My Little Jar of Dirt

Two Weeks, you said?

I’m just angry. You say you don’t see it from my point of view, but you get angry when those from Church offer me a ride. This situation is really no different except roles have changed.

Fine. 2 Weeks, you said it.

It’s a hard time right now. Faith is all I have. Faith in the fact that everything will be alright. My heart breaks a little because you’re the only man in my life that means more than anything in the world to me. I’d gladly put my life on the line for you. Love you, Dad.

It always happens this way.

  I don’t know what it is I’m trying to say. I’ve been having the biggest writers block. Only because there is so much I’d like to say but I haven’t the faintest idea where ever I should start. I should probably organize my thoughts then come back to the place where I can write them.

  What good is it to be able to write, but whenever I seem to put my thoughts out on paper, it’s just a bunch of scattered thoughts with commas and apostrophes..

If I do how you do.

  Will I then be accepted? If I act how you act, walk how you walk, talk like you talk. Will I then be normal? Whenever someone tends to describe myself or my personality, normal isn’t part of that description. We are all quirky in our own ways. I believe that, the people who are part of the “in-crowd,” we think they’re normal.
 We tend to forget that people are human. No one is above anyone else when it comes down to that.

  I tried to act how you act, walk how you walk, talk like you talk. But that ended up getting me no where. I need to start walking, talking, and acting like myself. I am me, in Him.

Know me.

 If you know me personally, you know my laugh is outrageous. My laugh is one of those things that you come across in life, whether you take it or leave it, it’s not going anywhere. It’s a part of me. Everyone always mentions how weird my laugh is. I don’t think twice about it, I just keep on laughing.
  If you know me personally, you know that I’m the loudest one in the classroom. I’m the person who’s always making the most noise. The person who’s always talking the loudest. I’m the gossip, if you want to call me that. I’m the person that people look at and wonder why I’m being so loud. I sometimes ask myself that question as well. I just keep talking, haha.
  If you know me personally, you know I am all of these things.

  But if you knew me on another level. You’d know how hurt I once was. You’d know that I was stuck with so much love to give and no one on the other end to receive it. You’d know that I spent many nights sleepless, crying, not going to school the following day. Yes, you’d know that.
  You’d know I fight for what’s right in my eyes. You’d know I’d give up sleep for someone who needs someone to be there, to listen to them. You’d know that I am capable of putting myself in your shoes. Knowing that the only thing you’d ever want for someone is that they listen to you.

  If you knew me like that..

I Had a Dream About You

 You called me. You sang me a song. We talked. It was something I couldn’t believe, even in my dream. I was quiet. I was speechless and remembering it now,
I still am. I’m not sure what to say or how to react to this. Which is funny because I know I won’t react.
  I’ll just take this as a part of my memory and move along. What else can I do?

Regretful

  4 years of school gone by, I didn’t do a thing. I didn’t participate in sports, I didn’t try out for plays, I didn’t join a team, I didn’t do anything. I have no one to blame but myself. Ever since we moved, my motivation for doing things that required me to stay after school, depleted.
 Why, you might ask me.. Simple. My parents. My lifestyle didn’t allow me to do certain things. My lifestyle never allowed me to do such things. I remember the first time I ever asked my parents to do something that required me to stay after school.
 

 It was the 6th grade and I was a part of our school’s chorus. We were suppose to meet behind of Smokey Bone’s in Waterford, it was our Christmas Concert. We had to be there. We rehearsed and rehearsed. I told my dad about it, he simply just said, “Who’s going to take you? I’m not.” That killed every motivation I ever had about doing anything that involved me trying to stay after school.
 It set in my mind, that no matter what I wanted to do, I’d have to try and get myself home. Ah, public transportation, you say? Even though I am of legal age, that doesn’t stop my parents from pulling the reigns. They don’t want me to go places by myself. Much less, use public transportation alone.

  It’s my Senior year of High School. I look through the yearbook and I see the things people have done. I envy. Just recently we had a musical take place at our school. I wish I had tried.

  School’s over and I just regret not having tried to do anything at all. I wish I had met more people and made more friends, rather than just kept to myself.
 C’est la vie, non?

It really messes with someone.

  Emotionally and mentally. It really messes with people. Betrayal. I’ve been put into that situation many, many times. I really look like I have no flaws, like everything’s fine whenever I’m with my friends. If you ask me who I’m close with though.. I stay quiet and I can’t answer. No one really knows me or my life, and somehow, it’s better off that way.
  I am there for my friends. I am there to listen to them because I know what it’s like to feel like you have no one there to listen to you. I will sacrifice what I think is a little, so that a friend of mine may feel better. I’ll stay by your side if you need me to. Then, you’ll take your leave, like they all do. But that’s okay.
 
  It’s better off if people don’t know what has happened in my past. It’s better off if they don’t know how many times I was bullied for the way I looked or dressed. It’s better off if people don’t know how many times I was betrayed by the same person who I called my best friend. It’s better off if people don’t know these things because they can’t sympathize with me. Very few people have to ever go through what I did.
  I went through GM&GI, MS&PS, and the last one finally ended it for me. These were the people that I trusted and counted on to be there. These people ended up trampling over me, some literally. They took my kindness for granted. They asked for things from me and I always gave…

  I know what it’s like to be in the position of your best friend taking you for granted. Your best friend threatening to hurt you if you don’t act a certain way. The position of your best friend not acting like your best friend at all. That’s why I am here for those who are ever in that position.

  It really messes with someone when the person you thought you could count on gives you the cold shoulder.

Hate to say it, but I miss you too.

  Although I shouldn’t. I probably shouldn’t. But, I do. I sometimes get mad at myself because I always think I could never face you. The silly thoughts of mine get out of hand.

Sometimes, you cross my mind. I cry a little bit. Then I realize it’s no more. People call me a romantic, those that know me at least. They also think that I am an overthinker.
When it comes to matters of the heart, it shouldn’t be a decision you rush into. It shouldn’t be a game. At least that’s how I see it.

My heart will never be cold and won’t turn someone in need away. However, when it comes to matters of the heart I believe slow and steady wins the race..

I am my Mother’s daughter?

  My parents, when it comes to praise and worship, they are the ones in the back. They are, the ones who invoke, silently and wait for someone else. That’s how I see it. That’s not how I want to be. I am my Mother’s daughter, but am I suppose to praise like my mother?
  I see someone else, and they are just like their mother in praise and in worship. I want to be the one who freely worships and freely praises. Maybe not the loudest, maybe not the nicest sounding, but that’s what I want to do. I want to do it freely. Comfortably. But, I feel like I can’t do that with my parents lurking around.
  “You’re doing it so well!” I feel like they’d say. “We’re so proud of you!” I don’t want to hear that. I don’t want to hear how well I’m doing to praise or worship. I don’t want to hear how bad I’m doing or how awkward I look. I just want to praise and worship without commentary from the peanut gallery. But why do I feel like that’s what I’m going to get?
  My parents are not like me. I am my Mother’s daughter, but I don’t have to praise like her. Do I? I don’t have to be lax, do I? I don’t want to be. I want to be loud, I want to be free, I want to be open, about that when I do it. I don’t want to hold back. I shouldn’t care if people are watching. I shouldn’t care about what they say. That’s the only thing that’s holding me back.

  I am my Mother’s daughter, but I don’t have to praise like my Mother. I have to praise like me and stop caring about what others think or have to say. That is what I need to do.