Exist

I am the audience, a spectator to my own tragic ending. What at first seemed like the perfect path, has proven itself a wrong turn… but these roads… They shaped me into something better than safety could ever dream of being. I’ll force a smile to hide the real one that I can’t explain.

Through a dusty stained window, I watched their perfect lives play out like a movie scene. Their hardships so small… their endings so happy. While I was slowly slipping away, life gave me water to breathe. It was a time when I trusted god more than I trusted myself, but he quickly turned his back on me, leaving me to die amongst his followers. What did we do with all that faith but seek out the truth? …A truth that made us walk away. Well I’ve grown to hate, loved but locked up in chains. Is this what was meant for me? Was this the beautiful image you had where I live day to day like I’m dying, and part of a non-existent breed? This life wasn’t for me, and I never asked you for anything.

chrissykites:

Turns out, good dudes who respect women do exist.  If you know anyone who fits this description, give him a hug and/or a beer before he comes to resent being a good dude and turns into a self-loathing monster.  Thank you.

You’re that girl that goes to a party, gets too drunk, and flirts/hangs all over every guy there. Then the next day you wake up, and complain on your twitter that you kept getting hit on the night before.

“This is on a bus back from camp. I’m thirteen and so are you. Before I left for camp I imagined it would be me and three or four other dudes I hadn’t met yet, running around all summer, getting into trouble. It turned out it would be me and just one girl. That’s you. And we’re still at camp as long as we’re on the bus and not at the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us. We’re still wearing our orange camp t-shirts. We still smell like pineneedles. I like you and you like me and I more-than-like you, but I don’t know if you do or don’t more-than-like me. You’ve never said, so I haven’t been saying anything all summer, content to enjoy the small miracle of a girl choosing to talk to me and choosing to do so again the next day and so on. A girl who’s smart and funny and who, if I say something dumb for a laugh, is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh, but who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way I could never be. A girl who reads books that no one’s assigned to her, whose curly brown hair has a line running through it from where she put a tie to hold it up while it was still wet.

Back in the real world we don’t go to the same school, and unless one of our families moves to a dramatically different neighborhood, we won’t go to the same high school. So, this is kind of it for us. Unless I say something. And it might especially be it for us if I actually do say something. The sun’s gone down and the bus is quiet. A lot of kids are asleep. We’re talking in whispers about a tree we saw at a rest stop that looks like a kid we know. And then I’m like, “Can I tell you something?” And all of a sudden I’m telling you. And I keep telling you and it all comes out of me and it keeps coming and your face is there and gone and there and gone as we pass underneath the orange lamps that line the sides of the highway. And there’s no expression on it. And I think just after a point I’m just talking to lengthen the time where we live in a world where you haven’t said “yes” or “no” yet. And regrettably I end up using the word “destiny.” I don’t remember in what context. Doesn’t really matter. Before long I’m out of stuff to say and you smile and say, “okay.” I don’t know exactly what you mean by it, but it seems vaguely positive and I would leave in order not to spoil the moment, but there’s nowhere to go because we’re are on a bus. So I pretend like I’m asleep and before long, I really am.

I wake up, the bus isn’t moving anymore. The domed lights that line the center aisle are all on. I turn and you’re not there. Then again a lot of kids aren’t in their seats anymore. We’re parked at the pick-up point, which is in the parking lot of a Methodist church. The bus is half empty. You might be in your dad’s car by now, your bags and things piled high in the trunk. The girls in the back of the bus are shrieking and laughing and taking their sweet time disembarking as I swing my legs out into the aisle to get up off the bus, just as one of them reaches my row. It used to be our row, on our way off. It’s Michelle, a girl who got suspended from third grade for a week after throwing rocks at my head. Adolescence is doing her a ton of favors body-wise. She stops and looks down at me. And her head is blasted from behind by the dome light, so I can’t really see her face, but I can see her smile. And she says one word: “destiny.” Then her and the girls clogging the aisles behind her all laugh and then she turns and leads them off the bus. I didn’t know you were friends with them.

I find my dad in the parking lot. He drives me back to our house and camp is over. So is summer, even though there’s two weeks until school starts. This isn’t a story about how girls are evil or how love is bad, this is a story about how I learned something and I’m not saying this thing is true or not, I’m just saying it’s what I learned. I told you something. It was just for you and you told everybody. So I learned cut out the middle man, make it all for everybody, always. Everybody can’t turn around and tell everybody, everybody already knows, I told them. But this means there isn’t a place in my life for you or someone like you. Is it sad? Sure. But it’s a sadness I chose. I wish I could say this was a story about how I got on the bus a boy and got off a man more cynical, hardened, and mature and shit. But that’s not true. The truth is I got on the bus a boy. And I never got off the bus. I still haven’t.”

-Donald Glover (Childish Gambino)

“Like the sunrise, some things just have to happen and all you can do is watch.”

I used to see a hero in a little boy that existed amongst the living, but his efforts were for the dead. By their request, he went to the village poisoned the antidote and fed it to them. The villagers held the boy high and worshiped him like a king that was chosen by the gods, but the king’s mental image of himself was disfigured beyond control. He began to do terrible things to himself, and everyone he loved.

If I lose this battle… you get the bones.

Today at work this little boy kept jumping out from behind things, and yelling at me. When I asked him what he was doing he explained that he was trying to scare me. I looked back at him and jokingly said “You can’t scare me, I’m tough as nails.” The little boy paused for a moment, then he looked up at me and responded “Yeah… Well I’m tough as hammers!”

…Today I was pwned by a 7 year old.

I hope you find what you’re looking for, because darling I’m not your type. There’s nothing I can do to make this worth your time. My perfect fairy tale has turned into dust, in the palm of my heart, just like everything does.

When people look at me they see an aura of confidence that I don’t possess. My outgoing attitude throws them off, and paints a different picture than my own. To tell you the truth, I’m scared. I’m scared that I’ll never figure out what to do with my life. I’m scared that I’ll never create something special. I’m scared of dying without any purpose, or meaning. I’m scared, because I’m ordinary.

Google+ amounts to nothing more than another unnecessary social network that no one in the world needs. However, if Google can convince people they do, in fact, need to have a Google+ account to function in society then they will profit greatly. That’s all this really is. Google saw an opportunity to grab a share of a largely profitable market, and went for it. It’s like if you were drawing a giant picture on a sheet of paper the size of a house. You’re just about finished with it, and all that’s left to do is color in the sky. As you’re working on it, I happen to walk by. I don’t really care for the shade of blue you used for the sky, so I offer you a different blue crayon. You like the blue crayon I offered you, but to use it you have to start your entire picture over that you spent a ridiculous amount of time on. You have to do this, because the two shades of blue don’t match up. You say “Thanks, but no thanks” and return the crayon to me. Now a Google representative walks by, and offers you another blue crayon. Although the packaging for this crayon is different than your own, it’s actually the same shade of blue you were already using. It fits into your picture perfectly, and you can alternate between the two crayons as much as you like without ruining the picture. This is exactly what Google did. They bring absolutely nothing new to the table. They are simply repackaging ideas from other social networking sites, and releasing them with a new name. Everyone keeps telling me how unique and innovative the Google+ circle feature is. For those of you not familiar with it, the circle feature allows you to place people in a specific group of your choosing. It gives you basic groups (Friends, Family, acquaintances, etc) to start off with, but you can add new circles as you please. You can add a single person to multiple circles, and follow them through any circle you add them to. It’s not like a friend request though. There is no wait for approval, and the person you added does not have to add you to any of their circles. Now can some explain to me how this is innovative? This is exactly what Twitter groups are. You can make as many Twitter groups as you want, add whoever you want to them, follow them through that group specifically, and there is no wait for approval. No one has to add you back to their groups if they don’t want to. It’s the same exact thing. All the other Google+ features are just photo uploading, video uploading, status updates, and a plethora of other things Facebook already does. Google must have realized they couldn’t beat out Facebook, so they included a feature to connect accounts from different social networks. Unfortunately, connecting them amounts to nothing more than porting over status updates from social network to social network. There is no Facebook album integration of any sort, so if you plan to have pictures on Google+ I hope you’re ready to start uploading albums to both websites. I don’t have the patience for it, and neither should you. Even if the account connection provided something other than status updates; why would you want to do this? It’s like taping a crappy television set with a damaged picture tube to the side of a nice flat screen HD TV, and watching the same channel on them both simultaneously. It does nothing to add to the better experience of watching television in high definition, as Google+ does nothing to add to the ultimately better social networking experience that is Facebook.

I hate when people my age look down on teenagers that say they’re in love. People seem to think that age is a right of passage to be taken seriously. Love is not something you learn over time. Love is a crazy irrational feeling that takes over your entire body. It’s that moment in your life when another person’s happiness matters more than your entire existence. Who is anyone to claim mastery of it?

If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then my love for you is infinite.