If I Could

A couple summers ago there was a very random act of chance – of love, passion, disappointment and all that. But sometimes I’m very suppressed in my expression. If I could actually tell you what’s going on in my head I’d tell you that sometimes I wish you did love me enough to sacrifice your dreams of small-town Washington living for me and my big city ideas. Sometimes I do wish that you would propose to me right now so I’d say yes and live a simple life with you. But then I remember that I don’t want you sacrificing your dreams for anyone. And I remember that I don’t want a simple life. If I could actually tell you what’s going on in my head I’d tell you that I would never sacrifice anything but time and money for you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved someone – you know, romantically. And if I could I would change a lot of things about myself to make me better for you – you know, temporary changes. So when I leave off to college and you stay up here I can go back to being what is honestly me and forget all about you. But then I remember I don’t want to forget about you. I remember I want to remember your lessons and the joy you gave, forever. And I want you to remember it too. But we don’t need each other for that. If I could tell you what’s going on in my head I’d tell you we never needed each other. I’m pretty sure we’d come to the same conclusions and learn the same lessons had we not come together by some random act of chance – we just sped things along. We condensed a lot of emotions into just a year and a half and here I am, and here you are, and the grass is green and its summer again. If I could actually tell you what’s going on in my head I’d tell you a lot of things I’m a little too shy to say – and write. Until now.

You Know What I’m Sayin’?

My sternum hurts

from all the weight of distress and shame

and sadness.

My room’s clean,

but everything looks dirty behind salt water

and guilt.

Damn it all.

What an utterly terrible day it’s been.

This sucks.

Sucks like gashes

whose stitches take  five months to heal-

including summer.

Sucks like tests,

ones that matter for college and you still fail

despite studying.

Sucks like staring

at you in disappointment while your world shifts

and bends.

Sucks like that.

It sucks like having your sternum start to hurt

from emotions.

From fucking emotions.

Could be worse.

Yeah, an elephant could’ve trampled me on top of it all.

Still sucks.

Give me strength.

What an utterly terrible day it’s been.

You know?

I Am The Walrus

Goo goo g'joob. 


Confusion's got me again. I'm lost all over. I don't even have the sense of direction enough to formulate what it is that I'm confused about. It seems though that it concerns my morality- or my feelings- or my self esteem- or some other teen cliché. I'm supposed to be perfect; I got it made. But not so made as to not know what not made is. I've just made so many countless mistakes that it makes me wonder where they came from. Maybe I have a reservoir in the depths of my being, full of mistakes that I can make. A reservoir with a very leaky damn. However, it's a rather new project and the program and maintenance staff need more time to mature. And even when that happens, a few mistakes will make their way out every now and then, right? John Lennon only realized much after the song was released that the Walrus was the villain in the poem "The Walrus and the Carpenter" by Lewis Carol. He meant the relation in the song to be to the carpenter. Upon realizing this he commented, "Oh, shit, I picked the wrong guy," and laughed on. The title of a song that is incredibly famous worldwide is a mistake. So, what's there to be confused about? I'm lost, but with good faith in upper management, I'll find my way. Mistakes get out every now and then and progress can be expected. I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob.