From Dust to Dust

I imagine it to be quiet there, and peaceful.

Kind of like the end of a long day with friends, working in the coal mines as the darkness suffocates your lungs as much as the dust around you. But all you find are diamonds.

There are colors we've never seen, and scents we've never smelled; some foreign mixture of dreams and the violet hue in your grandmother's blueberry pie. The golden crust crumbles like the stars in the sky, appearing as clearly in the day as they do in the night, backed in a canopy of blueish purple. The water would always be glass - a million similar crystals bound in the earth that sustains life and beauty. Grass would grow everywhere, and no one would fear walking barefoot, for the carpeted ground would feel as though you were walking on the clouds in the sky. The sun would constantly be shining, but not in an overbearing way, rather the perfect temperature for each individual person.

There would be peace everywhere. No fighting, no lying, no famine, and no ingratitude. No secrets, only mysteries yet to be revealed.

The green eyes would be truthful. The long hair would flow as sand between fingers - elusive, yet ever present. The brown shoulders would sustain any amount of weight charged to them. The scarlet ears would hear all, from the wings of the hawks, to the gills of the fish; from the breeze in the air to the rhythm of a cricket.

I long to be there.

But I must wait until my day is done, and I have polished and presented the diamonds I have found.

Turtles Are Immune to Water Balloons

Hello everybody, and welcome back to my blog. As a few of you may know, not too long ago I got my wisdom teeth out, and it was quite the experience. It was pretty miserable not being able to eat, like, anything for about a week... but you know, life goes on. Anyway, shortly after arriving home from the surgery, my mom gave me her laptop so that I could write. I had asked her before the operation if she would do that, mostly because I just wanted to see what would come out if I tried to sit down and type while I was high. This is what came of it.

DISCLAIMER

What you are about to read has not been altered in any way since the first drafting of this Word document.
Thank you.

My mouth is really dry and it tastest like throw up because I think I threw up in the car. Something was really funny in the office, but I was in a really nice soft chair with a soft blanket. My mom told me to stop laughing but I don’t know why I was laughing or why she even told me ot stop laughing. Wow! it’s 11:00 already. It started at 800 and I was really nervous because I really don’t like needles. But the doctor said that there would be no needles and there would just be a tube that went into my vein. I didn’t laugh at him, but I should have because how could you get the tube into my vein without a needle?? It doesn’t make any sense, doc. It really hurt when he put it into my arm and I was hoping I would be out in a snap. But I didn’t hear any snaps and it kept hurting and then they put an oxygen mask on my nose like I was going to die and I didn’t want to die. But I didn’t obviously because I am writing this. Then after like a minute I couldn’t feel my arm and then it was cold and then I was in a big soft chair with a really warm blanket. It was so nice. But my arm still hurt and I thought the doctor was still trying to find my vein. But when I took the blanket off there was something taped to my arm. Thanks a lot doc, now I will have to pull the tape off of my arm hair too, just like everybody at school thinks is funny to put tape on my arm. It’s not funny it hurts. But it’s okay.

Hahahahahahaha guess what I am on laundry this week but I just found a great excuse to get out of it. MOM I CAN’T FEEL MY CHIN. Some turtles are floating through my mind or something because Taylor Swift is telling them that she can’t ever ever ever put them back toghter. Poor turtles. I wonder if turtles know how to throw water balloons. If I ever had a water baaloon fight with a turtle I don’t know who would win because I think turtles are supposed to get wet or else they die. So I would have to get it wet a lot. But it has a shell so it would just splash on its shell. Oh well maybe I won’t have a water fight with a turtle I don’t want to be an animal hater.

My mouth is so dry it feels like somebody put a bllowdryer in my mouth and it turnd on and made it like a desert. Oh my mom is so great she just gave me some water and that felt really good. Except I don’t know if I am going to throw up again. I hate throwing up it’s so gross. I feel completely normal I don’t know why some people get all crazy and stuff after their wisdom teeth. I just feel super dizzy like I am going to fall over even though I am sitting down. Do you know how hard it is to walk? I never realized how hard it is to walk when you’re dizzy and have gauss in your mouth. Ew I hate gauss. Who even thought of that idea? It’s like, “Come here little boy let me put this super dry piece of cloth in your mouth and watch you try and talk. Hahaha! see? You can’t do it, you silly little boy.”

I’m so sad I can’t eat any food. I’m so hungry this is worse than fast Sunday because on fast Sunday you don’t have gauss in your mouth and I still can’t feel my chin. This is so weird because when I touch it it feels like it’s not even mine. It’s just a funny feeling bunch of nothing where my chin is. I tried to lick my chin but I can’t touch my tongue to my chin. My brother Jaden used to have a really short tongue and it made me laugh because he couldn’t stick it out very far hahahahahaha. But then they clipped something in his mouth and now he can bring it out of his mouth. Tongues are so weird. What even are tongues made out of? I’m pretty sure it’s not skin. Tongues are kind of gross too because it’s just like a little pink flappy thing inside your mouth and it does whatever it wants and it gets in the way of your teeth when you’re trying to eat like it’s saying, “Hey teeth, I’m flapping here, do you mind? It hurt when you bit me.” And then I get mad because even though it was my own fault for biting my tongue, it felt like it was ITS fault for being in the way. GO BACK TO WHERE YOU BELONG TONGUE.

It’s a pretty day today. Theres a blue sky and it’s pretty warm for January, even though it’s warmer in Mexico. I’m looking at two candles right now and I don’t even know why we have those tow candles in our house. They’re never lit. They just stay there all day being unlit.

I’m really tired. I woke up this morning worrying about being poked with a needle because I hate needles. But it turns out the doctor said there wasn’t even a needle to put me to sleep, Just a tube. It didn’t make sense to me but he had a lot of plaques in his office with certificates and stuff so I think he knows what he is doing. My lip feels huge. My mom says I’m not swelling but I feel like my lip is a balloon. Please don’t pop it I need my lips for when I can eat food again. I’M SO HUNGRY I JUST WANT FOOD THAT I CAN EAT. But I’m afraid that I will throw it back up. THat’s dumb I’m not even sick and I’m throwing up. It’s okay guys, I’m not contagious you can still touch me.

My hair is so long and it’s starting to do its own thing now. Ms. Nelsen says I can’t cut it but I think I am going to cut it because it gets so messy. I don’t want to grow a beard either. I only like them when they are on other people. But it’s too scratchy.

Oh my gosh my lip is so huge I just know it. I bet my mom is lying to me. Actually I don’t think that because my mom is too good to lie. I have such a good mom I love her. Everthing I see is two things. I can’t read my writing because there are two words where there should be just one word but it’s still the same word. This is really uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. Minus the gauss and the gross taste in my mouth I think is throw up, I feel great. My mom put a spiderman blanket on me and I’m resting on a lot of pillows. I look like a nun because I have an ice pack on my head but it keeps sliding off because of my hair. I’m really tired. But I can’t sleep yet because my friends said they would come visit me during lunch! So I have to stay awake for them because I love seeing my friends. I don’t care if they laugh at me because that’s what friends are supposed to do. I also really like Jaden. He has become a really good friend to me lately and I like him. We used to fight when we were like ten, but now we don’t and we just tease each other and laugh. I like it when we get competitive with each other because I usually win :) Unless it’s something that he is really good at like Chinese, but we’ve never had a Chinese competition because I don’t even speak Chinese.

Anyway I think I am done writing. My mouth is really dry and I want some water. At least I didn’t have to go to school today! Yay! Okay bye.

It's 1:13 AM

It's 1:13 AM, and what am I doing? Blogging. Duh.

What is my life...

There is a castle set on a hill, I'm sure. One with tall spires and oak lining, protecting the inhabitants inside. The flags wave triumphantly. The bells toll gloriously. The sun shines through the open windows of her room and the slight breeze catches the drapes and they float around like ghosts. The glint of her closed eyes makes it seem like she is dreaming, being funneled through endless space in a whirlpool of her memories. Her crystal lips smile like the ice sculpture in the courtyard, surrounded by dozens of flocking doves. Her emerald hair billows down over her small shoulders and some say that if you get close enough to touch it, it shimmers like a glass lake in mid-summer.

This is the Princess of the Castle.

She dreams of swimming and dancing with the nymphs and elves, and to go on victorious quests where she could conquer her fears, and light the waxy candles in the hallway at night to keep her on the right track. She dreams of voicing her thoughts to the wind, but doesn't recall the last time she allowed herself a voice. To speak, to listen. The frailties of the world are captured in the castle, and she sits upon the bed of her parents, to speak, and to listen. The king is bold, daring, and a brilliant musician. The queen, she came from the icy kingdoms of the north, being shaped by the chilling cold, and softened by the cracking ice. Their back stories are told in many variations of lore around the castle, but the White Princess is the only one who knows of them intimately.

It's 1:27 AM and she is still up. I'm still up, too. She is only awake in her mind, though, dipping her toes in her deepening nostalgia, whereas I feel and drift my way across the keyboard writing absurdities and legends. It's not that I can't sleep, I don't want to sleep. I want to talk and write and listen and ponder. I want to stare at the Princess of the Castle from the sun's eyes, and listen to her crystallized breathing from the moon's ears.

It's 1:32 AM and the snow outside is billowing. It wants to take me to the unknown, where lilacs smell the same as dandelions, and where the "seven ate nine" joke is still funny. It's a cruel world sometimes, but the leathery ears of the bear sitting next to me can help as my screaming pillow when the night draws to an end. The noise from this entry is creaking through the floorboards and seeping through the walls, spreading through the house, begging to be heard. But I can't let it be heard, or my untapped imagination will leave again. It's been too long since I've been here. Too long since I've smelled the fluorescent white of a blank blog page, and now here I am. At 1:43 AM. With nothing left to give, and yet wanting the rest to be heard. The moon must be waning, but on Mars, I'm sure the time difference accounts for lost sleep.

Hey, Princess, if you can still hear me, I'm here. Rooted into this tree I call my home, with all of the comforts of a gumming old man. If you can still hear me, I'm listening for the steady river stream wanting to flow from your lips and through the ears of this bear sitting next to me. I can see you through the window of your castle. Like your carved bedposts, I am waiting to decay, but not able to change unless you carve me a mouth and put your heart up next to my forehead. If it beats loud enough, perhaps the raindrops in your eyes will wipe themselves clear and you can drink to your good health and the long summer days you no doubt will have.

It's 1:56 AM, and what am I doing?

Dreaming, of course.

Walk

He walks, eyes on the ground, earphones in, listening to his favorite band. Unaware of the world and the people passing around, his feet keep moving. The mellow music keeps playing.

Brown are his eyes
Black, his hair
White are his socks
But Transparent his stare

Hazel his heart

Saturn his soul

Oily his thoughts

And murky his goal

Dark is the ground

But Green is his stride

Turquoise the air

And Golden his Guide

And he Walks.

A Paper Airplane

Maybe she could make a paper airplane, and soar through my dreams. Would she see everything I've ever seen? Would she feel the shades I've felt? Maybe if she made her paper airplane, she'd wear it on her sleeve, and take me for a gentle ride every now and then. We'd glide among the delicate slow flakes and origami paper hearts. Maybe if she made her paper airplane, she'd have her doubts on flying. But I would show her differently, because to see the shadows you have to be by the light. Maybe if she made her paper airplane, she'd leave me far behind. She would sail the world in her sea of air, and eventually wave goodbye. Maybe it'd be better that way. Or maybe I'm too lost. Maybe if she made her paper airplane she would set out to find me through the whirlwind of confusion, and the cyclone of self-doubt. Why a paper airplane? Why not one of stone? Because maybe she prefers it that way, soft and adventurous. Not tethered to the fabric ground where hundreds of planes have been lying, abandoned for years. Never flying. Never tasting the freedom that the paper airplane gives. They become glued to the surface by reality. They face alone the creatures of burden and puppets of sorrow. Maybe that's where I am now. Grounded. Imprisoned in my paper airplane. Will I be found by the ones up above? Will she make her paper airplane to rescue mine? It's not for me to say.

Maybe she could make a golden chariot, and ride alongside the sun. She would brighten dreary days and lift heavy hearts. Maybe if she made a golden chariot she could let the silky sand run through her pearl fingers as she coasted along the deepening shoreline. I would watch as she rode. I would wave. Maybe if she made a golden chariot she would find happiness - a compass through the journeys she'd have. And the sounds she'd see. Maybe if she made her golden chariot she would invite me. To ride with the sun might be a grand vision, or a hope better left unsaid.

Maybe she could make a rocket ship of brass. It would clink and clank like most brass things do, but it would work just fine. Maybe if she made her rocket ship of brass she could tell me of the moon, and what was on its dark side. Would she explore the craters and the creatures inside? Would the imagination of her yarn fingers make its way to pierce the core and free the treasures inside? Maybe she would make a rocket ship of brass simply to impress, what with its gears and cogs and knobs and gizmos, all whirling simultaneously in a glorious synchronized waltz. Maybe she would whisper in my ear as she flew past, in her rocket ship of brass. What would she say? Do I dare ask? Maybe she wouldn't whisper after all, if she made her rocket ship of brass.

But maybe she would make a paper airplane, and gently soar through my dreams.

I'd let her.

Little Wonders

Let it go.

Let it roll right off your shoulder; don't you know the hardest part is over?

Let it in; let your clarity define you. In the end we will only just remember how it feels.

Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain.

Let it slide. Let your troubles fall behind you. Let it shine until you feel it all around you.
 

And I don't mind if it's me you need to turn to. We'll get by. It's the heart that really matters in the end.

Our lives are made in these small hours; these little wonders. These twists and turns of fate, time falls away, but these small hours. These small hours still remain.

All of my regret will wash away somehow, but I cannot forget the way I feel right now in these small hours.

These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. These twists and turns of fate, time falls away but these small hours; these small hours still remain.

Still remain.

These little wonders. These twists and turns of fate. Time falls away but these small hours, these little wonders, 

Still remain.

My Personal Credo

For an English assignment, our class was to write a personal credo - basically a short list of your beliefs about life (no, not a testimony). I had some fun writing mine, and so I thought I'd share it on the inter-webs. ENJOY FELLAS.

Everything I Need To Know

    Everything I need to know I learned from a galaxy far, far away, in a time long ago. Surprisingly, the wars and contentions that happened among the alien planets have applicable life lessons to life on Earth! Ha! How about that. Take one of the characters from these Star Wars - Anakin Skywalker! He was born into slavery, and he was destined to be a slave for the rest of his life. However, by sheer dumb luck, Anakin was freed. Though he enjoyed a life of freedom and awesome fight scenes, his mother stayed a slave and eventually died. But you know, that’s life. Here’s a list of more things I learned from Star Wars.

• Not everyone has the force.
• As long as the most important guys have sweet fight scenes, it doesn’t matter how many stormtroopers die in the background.
• Explosions on vital spaceships are inevitable.
• Fights with your father are also inevitable.
• Never underestimate the power of the dark side - they have the cooler version of the force.
• Red is the color of the dark side.
• The old wise guys always dies.
• Good will always win in the end, somehow.
• You must either do something, or not do something. There is no middle action.

    Well, that about sums up all of life’s little lessons in a few short sentences. A brief look at this list may make you laugh, but upon further looking, this list is very relateable to life. That’s just the magic of Star Wars. George Lucas was visionary; being able to see into another solar system through the past must have been very hard! But I’m just glad he shared their story with us. Tolkien is another example of a visionary man, but this credo is focused on Lucas’ revelation writings. And remember, when given the option to rescue a princess, always jump on it. It could end up being your sister, and you will have a very happy family reunion.