Happiness

It seems rather silly,

To find it so difficult to just smile.

One genuine smile, a laugh to come bursting from deep within.

Especially to those don't have to try very hard.

Even to me about seven years ago,

Or whenever someone reached out to me on the playground.

Looked past my dorky hair cuts, big calves, and gapped teeth.

My hyperactivity and big feet.

I could feel happiness easily.

When my dirtbag father came back into the picture.

When he would take me to Cedar Point or the Zoo.

Then I became old, and pessimistic.

Put too much of myself into others, and never took back.

Emotionally abused myself, became obsessed and then uncaring.

While on the outside, I paraded around the facade that I was perfect.

I fell in love with a friend, and learned the hard way that even if that love

Is reciprocated, it will not last everytime.

It will not always be "right."

I realized that I could not even be happy for my own sake, let alone his.

And since I was struggling to find beauty, simplicity, and bliss for two, I found nothing for either.

Then I went to the darker side of relationships.

And am still paying for it.

Emotionally, maybe even physically.

Enough of that.

Then I met the man who calls me his "dearly beloved"

Thus begins the latest chapter in this struggle for happiness.

I'm pretty sure this is the closest to "happy" I have felt in many years.

I'm also sure he must like me quite a lot.

I'm pretty sure I'm a little crazy.

He calls me beautiful, and not for the sake of "getting in my pants."

He smiles at me, and I smile.

And laughter.

Oh, the soft and booming chimes of laughter meet my ears and leave my lips.

I don't want this high to fall.

The laughter to die.

The promise of happiness to break.

Not too worried...?

Play in the Sky

Go play in the sky,
The crisp blue, adorned with the whisps of clouds.
Let's go for a swim in the sky.
We won't be too long,
Maybe.
Or maybe we'll take all day,
floating in that sky.
So many possibilities to explore and dream.
Hear the singing in the trees, quiet at first, and then it grows.
Don't you want to join it?
Go play in the sky.
The golden sun beckons us,
We won't be too long,
maybe.
We'll come right back to this Earth at the end of the day,
maybe.
Nevermind, let's just go play in the sky.
I promise to bring you back in time for dinner,
Mom won't be too upset,
and if we're a little late, then I'll explain we were just testing the water,
and boy, was it sweet as ever.
Let's go play tag with the birds.
Listen, they're calling out.
Who knows how long the sun will shine,
Is it just today, or tomorrow too?
That is exactly why we need to go now,
Go play in the sky.

Take a leap, take a chance, take another cliche or two.
As long as you'll say you will play in the sky just a little longer.
We've seen this sky before, swam in it's waters many times before.
Hours and hours, we've played in that blue.
Do you remember the time Mom scolded us for missing the first call to eat?
I told you I would cover for you, it was my fault after all,
Instead, you ran ahead, a little further still, saying,
"What's five more minutes? Who knows if the sun will be here in the morning..."
Oh her face was red, when I said,
"Sorry, we wanted to go play a little bit longer..."
No matter how mad she got, we knew it wouldn't matter, if the sun returned tomorrow,
We would back up there with it.

We spent so many long afternoons in that play ground.
The sky was our place. The hours stretched into days, and finally months.
Eventually we decided the sunsets were just as fun as the afternoon blue.
Once or twice, we took a trip around the moon and the stars.
Orion had company.

Finally the sky began to grow cold, and less and less would the birds sing in the blue.
The days grew shorter and shorter, and even the nights were too cold to invite us out.
You began to fall back to your fear of your mom. She scolded, you listened,
Suppertime was no longer the only time you left for.
No longer would you say,
"Five more minutes."

Eventually, I was the only one to go play in the sky,
Not even the birds would come out to play.
More clouds covered the sky, and soon the warm drops turned to ice.
Playing in the sky turned to,
Sitting and thinking in the sky.
Thoughts I always pushed away when you were near.
Now that you're far, these thoughts have become my only company,
And I am left alone to think them.

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I no longer play in the sky, only on the ground.
The rest of the world moves around, and sometimes I join the game.
I look to the sky from time to time and think of those days we played.

Once upon a time, I thought I saw you there,
beckoning another to go play with you.
Maybe it was a trick of my mind.
Maybe not.


To be honest, I hope it was, and that the sky is still only a place for you and me,
but if this is not the case, as well may be,
Then fine.
I'll retreat back into my memories.
And let you live your life as you will, sharing the sky with another.
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Time to go play in the sky.
Time for a swim in the sky.
Just me and the birds,
Feel the sun on my face, warm the air around.
I'll be back in time for dinner,
Maybe.
Though, don't be shocked if I ask for just five more minutes.
When I'm scolded, I'll simply say,
I wanted five more minutes in my sky,
Be happy I came back at all.

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Go play in the sky, before its too late.
The time you have is precious and short.
For who knows what tomorrow may bring.
The tides are coming in, and if you're not careful, they may sweep you away.
Maybe I'll follow the sun into another sky, leave all this behind.

The birds are calling again, they miss those days too,
So long ago.
Maybe it's time I make new memories.

Playing in another sky.

Manipulation

Life is full of contradiction.
It knows one thing,
But does another.
Life is a giant hypocrite.
It reflects the people who live it.
Do they even know truth?
These hypocrites.
Manipulators of truth.

We are the manipulators of truth.
We know all the words.
How to use them,
Change them for our purposes.
To save our hearts,
To fix another.
To get out of trouble.
Do we really think we own the truth?

Is truth for one to own?
Keep it from another.
Is it right, is it fair?
What is truth anymore?
If we change it and hide it.
Shell it out slowly,
Does that make it ours?
How can we know that it if right and fair?

Fairness is subjective.
And changes from case to case.
What is just for me,
Is it just for you.
Are just and fair the same?
Does this make me a manipulator of words.
Of truth?

Or simply human.
Trying to live my life as everyone else.
Is my truth the same as yours?
Do I hide behind half-truths and lies?
Or lay it all out there?


We are the manipulators of words and truth.

His name is George

So, the other day I flew to the moon, and saw something no one would ever have expected. Instead of rocks and sand and that ratty old flag, there was treasure too amazing to behold.
It's a conspiracy the guys from NASA keep spewing at us.
There are colors everyhere, and the music is so fine. If only I could find its source.
But for the time I was there, it didn't matter.
I was happy to simply be there.
And there is a man on the moon.
He's pretty cool. We fished for stars in the sky.
Had some pretty kick-ass cheese too. He had the most rad stories about Orion and his dogs.
I only wish I could have brought a friend or two to share in the majesty.
I was kind of sad when I had to leave.


Think you'd want to join next time?

Oh well, back to my dreams.

Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow

She escapes to her own reality
Greens reds purples cerulean
Everywhere she turns there's color
Bursting
Free
She loves this place
Her garden
Oasis
To spend hours tending to it
To escape the reality of grey

Outside it there is no rain
Only clouds
Menacing clouds
Threatening to flood the world
Wash out the lives
Instead of complying however
They just hang there
Teasing them
The people below dread the rain
The storm those clouds promise
But do not deliver

It is the fear of the danger
Not the danger itself
Gods are taunting the dwellers below them
Will they be struck by lightning and hail this day
Or next
Or never

Is it worse that it may never rain at all
Outside her garden
These poor creatures may never see the colors
Die without knowing the joy the blossoms can bring
The joy rain brings
Instead they dread the pain the storm may bring
So the gods take delight in their fear
And only threaten

PDBAZ

We are a generation of followers.

So many before us had been thinkers.

Real thinkers of their days.

Without the internet to answer their questions.

Mathematicians, writers, scientists, poets, painters, philosophers.

Unfortunately, the human race has been so full of thinkers

before our time,

That we youth do not really need to be thinkers.

Or at least that has been what we were taught.

Have a question,

Look it up on Google®, Yahoo®, Wiki ®...

You do not even have to sit and come up with possible solutions.

Graphing calculators are an honors student's best friend.

Even universities seem to discourage independent thought.

Large lecture halls specifically designed for long winded monologues.

Students copy only what the professor has to say.

You'd be lucky to have discussion at all.

Arguments and counter arguments must all be supported by another's idea.

Do not tell me you actually came up with that on your own.

There is no original thought anymore.

Yes, knowledge is free for everyone, or it should be,

but this knowledge is no longer worked for.

I am just a copy.

The clothes I wear.

The thoughts I think.

The silly bandz® on my wrist.

The Bat Signal® on my shirt.

The polish on my hands and feet.

The "style" of my hair.

The phone buzzing on my lap.

The ska blaring from my mac's speakers.

My joys, my angsts.

The Mt. Dew® on its way down my throat.

My beliefs were ultimately thought of by countless others.

I just kind of picked through them.

I am no leader of some revolution.

I am no independent thinker.

I am just a carbon copy of my Generation Y.

I go to university for a degree that will allow me to teach children.

Teach them to be just like their fellow students.

With the hope that they might break the mould.

I would like to think my stepdad is spending thousands of dollars

So that I may learn to teach children to be different.

Full of knowledge and wisdom beyond their years.

Here's hoping...

It certainly did not work in my case.

I am apathetic.

I do not watch the news unless my parents do.

I do not have a job.

I do not really know how to take care of myself when sick...

except to sleep.

I do not read the dictionary for fun.

Or willingly play Scrabble®.

I gave up on my saxophone after senior year at WGHS.

I never paint anymore.

I run from math.

Political discussion bore me.

I only enjoy philosophical discussions when half asleep.

I have a 3.5 GPA

But I do not feel any smarter.

More knowledgeable.

I can just barely name all of the states, most of their capitals,

and if lucky, their placement on a map.

I am utterly ordinary.

A copy of my generation.

And a poor one at that.

Sorry.

PDBAZ.

I'll try...

But, well...let's see how that works out.

Jellies Just Sort of GO

I like how you jellyfish just go.

Bloop bloop bloop.

No minds of your own.

You simply exist.

Food comes to you.

Transportation is free.

You have managed to survive all these years.

Can you imagine that?

Spending your time floating around.

The current takes you where ever it wants.

Food just comes to you.

Gets stuck in your tenticles.

No effort on your part.

You just exist.

While all the rest of the ocean dies,

You live on.

You exist.

Floating in the currents.

Being swept away.

But you know no different.

This never affects you.

Hell, if your lucky,

You can live for eternity,

So long as the elements don't get you first.

There's the catch, eh?

To have the power to exist forever,

Without protection at each begining

Of the cycle.

Oh, did you not know?

The only way for you to live forever

Is for you to turn back time,

Become a polyp

Over and over and over.

Eventually disease may claim you,

If the predators don't first.

But, what does it matter,

You simply exist.

No worries.

No cares.

Food comes to you.

Natural elements take you where

You need to be.

As if you needed to be anywhere.

Remember, you just exist.

You just sort of

Go.

I like that about you.

You just go.

Existing.

My roommate also says you guys taste pretty good.

Go figure.