Hey, it’s okay to lie in bed all day.
Hey, it’s okay to drink wine by yourself.
Hey, it’s okay to sing in the shower.
Hey, it’s okay to single-handedly take down a whole pizza.
Hey, it’s okay to skip a workout…or two.
Hey, it’s okay to paint your own nails.
Hey, it’s okay to wear shoes that are “so last season.”
Hey, it’s okay to like Miley Cyrus.
Hey, it’s okay to “run” to the grocery store and stay for two hours.
Hey, it’s okay to be obsessed with TMZ and Parez Hilton.
Hey, it’s okay to wear the same shirt two days in a row. You’re seeing different people anyway…
Hey, it’s okay to pretend you know the words to “Sweet Caroline.”
Hey, it’s okay to cry at the Notebook after seeing it twenty times.
Hey, it’s okay to stop pretending they are your friends.
Hey, it’s okay to admit that you were completely wrong about someone.
Hey, it’s okay to get the “gotta have it” size at Cold Stone.
Hey, it’s okay to hate cats.
Hey, it’s okay to wear white after Labor Day.
Hey, it’s okay to think you’re funny, even if no one else does.
-Gianna Abruzzo
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Green Weekends
I wish for the weekends because it means they are good.
I wish they pick up every time I call.
I wish they wouldn't lie to me and say its not regular.
I wish they say it's good shit.
I wish it would make me feel amazing.
I wish it makes my soul free.
I wish to enjoy it in different ways...when given an opportunity.
I wish a pound to be waiting on my doorstep.
I wish I wasn't dependent on it.
I wish it didn't kill my brain cells.
I wish I made the right choice.
I wish the buzz it sends through my head would stop beating.
I wish everywhere I look I wouldn't see the color green.
I wish my mind would stop running not even an ice chamber can freeze it.
I wish the pigs weren't after me.
I wish I could have done my weekend over again.
I wish they pick up every time I call.
I wish they wouldn't lie to me and say its not regular.
I wish they say it's good shit.
I wish it would make me feel amazing.
I wish it makes my soul free.
I wish to enjoy it in different ways...when given an opportunity.
I wish a pound to be waiting on my doorstep.
I wish I wasn't dependent on it.
I wish it didn't kill my brain cells.
I wish I made the right choice.
I wish the buzz it sends through my head would stop beating.
I wish everywhere I look I wouldn't see the color green.
I wish my mind would stop running not even an ice chamber can freeze it.
I wish the pigs weren't after me.
I wish I could have done my weekend over again.
Love
I love swing sets.
I love riding bikes.
I love swimming in the
Ice cold lake.
I love making movies.
I love dancing.
I love karaoke parties.
I love eating ice cream.
I love how much I miss it all.
I love kindergarten.
I love carefree strolls
I love finding pennies on the street.
I love getting excited
About the little things.
I love throwing around the word love.
I love loving things
That others have forgotten.
The Impact
THE IMPACT
by Ray LiA choice of the moment.
A choice between the elevator or the stairs.
A choice between the clock or the time.
A choice of the safety, or the truth.
A choice between eloquence or honesty.
A choice between turning back, or speaking out.
A choice in the midst of a burning house.
A choice of being the hero versus a hero.
A choice between the courage of fear, or the courage to fear.
A choice in the thousand years of a second.
A choice of the will and the last lap.
A choice at the edge of a forgotten bridge,
where the road has cracked and the fog peeks a gaping ravine—
the other side still blurred.
A choice to jump.
Mhmmmmm
I enjoy cats.
I enjoy the smell and feel of fall.
I enjoy those nostalgic memories of childhood,
when I didn’t care about the difference between bliss and happiness.
I enjoy music.
I enjoy Harry Potter…and I know you do too.
I enjoy not knowing the meaning of life –
For if we did…what would life mean to us as the individual?
I enjoy the spot light.
I enjoy showing tolerance to others.
I enjoy a good debate and a good date for that matter
I enjoy love. For all that it’s worth –
I enjoy compassion. Not just toward me but for all.
I enjoy not just my civil rights but my rights as a human being,
bestowed on me at birth –
I enjoy fighting for the less fortunate, those struck down by this selfish conservative society where the human spirit means nothing anymore.
I enjoy my eyes open and I think you would too.
I enjoy the smell and feel of fall.
I enjoy those nostalgic memories of childhood,
when I didn’t care about the difference between bliss and happiness.
I enjoy music.
I enjoy Harry Potter…and I know you do too.
I enjoy not knowing the meaning of life –
For if we did…what would life mean to us as the individual?
I enjoy the spot light.
I enjoy showing tolerance to others.
I enjoy a good debate and a good date for that matter
I enjoy love. For all that it’s worth –
I enjoy compassion. Not just toward me but for all.
I enjoy not just my civil rights but my rights as a human being,
bestowed on me at birth –
I enjoy fighting for the less fortunate, those struck down by this selfish conservative society where the human spirit means nothing anymore.
I enjoy my eyes open and I think you would too.
Missing
I have an empty house.
I have pictures.
I have no one left.
I have a garage full of basketballs that carry another’s prints.
I have abandoned Buzz Lightyear sheets.
I have empty tissue boxes.
I have a second mortgage.
I have a worn out Doctor Seuss.
I have a car full of clothes and electronics I can’t use.
I have a dented bumper.
I have boxes of comic books and action figures I am too old for.
I have fifteen years of dust layered on tickets to the zoo.
I have Disney classics on VHS.
I have a mitt that never caught a ball.
I have sports idols gazing at no one.
I have scribbled drawing of dragons and far away lands.
I have every other week.
I have nothing to keep me up at night.
I have an Xbox waiting.
I have a Pokèmon card in my wallet.
I have shoes I can’t fit a hand in.
I have memories.
I have five hours to let him know I remember.
I have chances I never took.
I have to let go.
I have pictures.
I have no one left.
I have a garage full of basketballs that carry another’s prints.
I have abandoned Buzz Lightyear sheets.
I have empty tissue boxes.
I have a second mortgage.
I have a worn out Doctor Seuss.
I have a car full of clothes and electronics I can’t use.
I have a dented bumper.
I have boxes of comic books and action figures I am too old for.
I have fifteen years of dust layered on tickets to the zoo.
I have Disney classics on VHS.
I have a mitt that never caught a ball.
I have sports idols gazing at no one.
I have scribbled drawing of dragons and far away lands.
I have every other week.
I have nothing to keep me up at night.
I have an Xbox waiting.
I have a Pokèmon card in my wallet.
I have shoes I can’t fit a hand in.
I have memories.
I have five hours to let him know I remember.
I have chances I never took.
I have to let go.
17 Years
It's taken me 17 years to learn that Pluto really isn't a planet.
It's taken me 17 years to get my license.
It's taken me 17 years to have my own precious dog named Tycho.
It's taken me 17 years to understand how to make hemp jewelry.
It's taken me 17 years to realize that swimming isn't a sport,
it's a cult.
It's taken me 17 years for my body to fully mature and grow.
It's taken me 17 years to go biking downtown with a friend
who could appreciate the journey, not the destination.
It's taken me 17 years and many friends to determine
that they can't be trusted.
It's taken me 17 years to finally be able to know how to
use and apply eyeliner.
It's taken me 17 years to discover all of the fun and rewarding
experiences I could have with just a smile targeted towards a complete stranger.
It's taken me 17 years to have something in common with you.
It's taken me 17 years of following you and your friends
around the house while trying to blend in with the group.
It's taken me 17 years to finally to hang out with you.
It's taken me 17 years to see that you're not so bad after all
and maybe I can trust you.
It's taken me 17 years to share something I love with you.
It's taken me 17 years to understand that I'm trying
too hard to be your friend.
It's taken me 17 years to figure out that we really don't have
anything in common, I just hoped that we did.
It's taken me 17 years to grasp the fact that as a woman of
22-years old, you're nowhere near as mature as a child in junior high.
It's taken me 17 years to conclude that you don't have
a lot of bad days, you're simply a bitch.
It's taken me 17 years to be told that you judge me
and make assumptions about me.
It's taken me 17 years of craving for your attention to be shown
that you're truely not a good example.
It's taken me 17 years of wanting to be your friend to be devastatingly
shown that you don't have what I'm desperately searching for.
It's taken me 17 years for reality to rub in my face that I've wasted
those years idolizing you to learn that you are truely pathetic.
It's taken me 17 years to get my license.
It's taken me 17 years to have my own precious dog named Tycho.
It's taken me 17 years to understand how to make hemp jewelry.
It's taken me 17 years to realize that swimming isn't a sport,
it's a cult.
It's taken me 17 years for my body to fully mature and grow.
It's taken me 17 years to go biking downtown with a friend
who could appreciate the journey, not the destination.
It's taken me 17 years and many friends to determine
that they can't be trusted.
It's taken me 17 years to finally be able to know how to
use and apply eyeliner.
It's taken me 17 years to discover all of the fun and rewarding
experiences I could have with just a smile targeted towards a complete stranger.
It's taken me 17 years to have something in common with you.
It's taken me 17 years of following you and your friends
around the house while trying to blend in with the group.
It's taken me 17 years to finally to hang out with you.
It's taken me 17 years to see that you're not so bad after all
and maybe I can trust you.
It's taken me 17 years to share something I love with you.
It's taken me 17 years to understand that I'm trying
too hard to be your friend.
It's taken me 17 years to figure out that we really don't have
anything in common, I just hoped that we did.
It's taken me 17 years to grasp the fact that as a woman of
22-years old, you're nowhere near as mature as a child in junior high.
It's taken me 17 years to conclude that you don't have
a lot of bad days, you're simply a bitch.
It's taken me 17 years to be told that you judge me
and make assumptions about me.
It's taken me 17 years of craving for your attention to be shown
that you're truely not a good example.
It's taken me 17 years of wanting to be your friend to be devastatingly
shown that you don't have what I'm desperately searching for.
It's taken me 17 years for reality to rub in my face that I've wasted
those years idolizing you to learn that you are truely pathetic.
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