Stress

I really hate stress. It turns my normally tolerable self into an unbearable wilderbeast.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Raining, raining, raining. All day long. Yesterday, today and maybe even tomorrow.

I like rain. Really, I do.

 But this is getting to be a little bit much .

Daffodils

I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
 
- William Wordsworth
 
Out my window, I can see a charming little group of daffodils, tossing their heads in the breeze as though conversing amongst themselves. It reminded me of this poem, which is actually one of my favorites. Thought I'd share it with you today. After all, whats says June like daffodils?

The Dying Hole

Have you ever seen Madagascar Two?

If so, you probably remember "The Dying Hole." If not, you are totally lost and you think I'm strange. That's okay. I can deal with that.

Anyway, I find the Dying Hole to be an interesting phenomenon. In the astute words of a giraffe "We go over to the Dying Hole, and we die." So simple, eh?

But why do they all go to the Dying Hole any way? Societal standards? Tradition? Sanitation? All very lame reasons unlikely to appeal to a giraffe.

But I've figured it out. I understand the concept, I have discovered the deep psychological reasons behind this. Yeah, I'm a humble soul.

Peer pressure.

That's why the giraffes go to the Dying Hole.

That's actually why Melman goes to the Dying Hole too, further proving my nonexistent point.

So kids, what have we learned?

Don't give in to peer pressure.

Not Very Often

Sometimes I think of you

When old mental maps lead me back down roads paved by your hands

Or a subtle memory makes me think of the person you used to be

Sometimes I think of you

But not very often

Sometimes I dream of you

On long black nights when dreams play tricks on tired hearts

Making them believe that past is present, and that the present is the vision

Sometimes I dream of you

But not very often

Sometimes I miss you

Sometimes I wish you were here because you were the familiar

Back when a time when normal existed in routines that were well known

If not loved

Sometimes I miss you

But not very often

So Close, Yet So Far

Summer is so close.

The end of this school year is so close.

It will be the end of highschool for me.

There are a million things that will change, flex, grow, fade and maybe even shatter.

You know you're getting older when you start 'thinking' about things.

'Thinking' is hard on a lot of things. It tests and challanges what you think you know and believe and what you think you might want to know and believe and what you think you might someday know and believe.

Do forgive me if I fail to make sense, it happens with alarming regularity and I'm over it.

Short Story

So. I kind of sort of wrote a short story. Don't look so suprised, it was a school assignment, I had to. Here is a link for your reading pleasure... or if you need something to put you to sleep, that works too.

http://www.apricotpie.com/paperpoet/through-heart