Thursday, February 26, 2009

Personal Space

I am walking,
Listening,
Hearing,
Seeing.
I prefer isolation,
Yet I cannot stand desolation.
I enjoy,
Yet detest people,
Inhabiting my personal space.
Get out of my bubble!

Too close,
I can't breathe,
Breath. . . becoming. . . short.
Please,
I beg,
Be not the anaconda,
Nor the boa constrictor,
Set to bring my life to a close.
Get out of my bubble!

Be,
Instead the lifeboat, 
The preserver of my destiny of a longer life.
I enjoy you dearly,
But please,
Get out of my bubble!

By Katii

Not in Business Ed Either

Emily wasn't in business ed and Katii isn't either. Again i introduce myself as the person who doesn't feel like going on their own blog. I think Katii is probably cooking... Maybe not...

Oh well. Today is probably some random holiday, but i stopped keeping track. Oh well.

It is early release day!!!!!!!!!!! Woot woot! So exciting :) Oh, if you don't like smiley faces beware of the evil smiley face army. They are out to get you smiley haters. Anyway, everyone should get together to do something exciting. Have any ideas, post a comment. Please. Early early ear-LY! Early early ear-LY! Early release day!!!!!

M&ms are the best candy ever. If you don't like m&ms, you had better watch out for Kimi. The Asian Mafia is the main producer of m&ms. What company do you think makes them?! What?! No, it is undoubtedly the Asian Mafia's business. So long for now, I guess. I think the bell might ring soon...

Remember, m&ms and smiley faces are very good =]

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Comparisons

"Wow!  You sound smart!" says one.
"Oh, you must be smart!" says another.
"Oh, so you're a smart kid!" says a third.
If only they knew.
If only they knew ___*.
Would they truly believe that I am smart?
Or would they make comparisons?
Would they compare me to ___*?
I know ___* has a gift, 
A great one indeed.
___* can make even the smartest of people seem so uneducated.
___* can make them seem inferior.


"You're smart, but you're not as smart as ____*" says one.
". . . Yeah.  Now that ___* is smart!" says another.
"You'll never be as smart as ____*" says a third.
I will agree that ___* is intelligent, smart.
But I will never agree that ___* is smarter than me in every aspect.

I am compared to ___* in every subject,
Math,
Science,
Social Studies,
Reading,
Language Arts.
I will give only props to three,
Yet save two distinct for myself:
Social Studies,
Language Arts.

I am always compared to ___*. 
But have those comparing read my works?
Have they looked to see how much I really know about history?
No.
Quick to judge,
Quick to hurt.

"Stop comparing yourself to her.  ___*'s ___*" said one.

Not so much the comparisons do I mind,
But the uninhibited harshness.
When people make those comments,
Do they feel,
Do they know,
Do they hurt,
Like me?
Do they know how hard I try,
How hard I work,
Only to have my efforts shadowed by some ___*?

Do they know how it hurts to be compared in such a manner,
When the analogy involves your best friend,
Your ___*?
Do they know the pain,
The pain I endure,
To disguise my disappointment?
Do they cry my tears?
Are they me?
Do they live my life?
Do they know how it feels,
How much it hurts,
How caustic it is,
To never seem smart enough?
Like people always intend for you to never surpass in aptitude.

I cannot stand this much longer.
It is corrosive,
Acid burning the flesh of the heart.

Lowered self esteem.

Sadness.

Thanks a lot,
Comparisons



* Note: content has been omitted for some reason or another.




Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Current State of My Personal Being.

It has been a very long time since I have blogged(like four days!).  Oh, my insanity that is preventing me from indulging in such a frivolous yet vital(not really) task.  I must say, time is unforgettable yet so demanding and kept up with.  If that previous sentence confused you, well don't be frightened or let your self esteem decrease.  That made absolutely no sense to my self either--or did it?  OMG!  It makes perfect sense now!  EPIPHANY!  I understand.  I feel!  I understand!  I can relate!  Oh, I feel as light as a cloud yet heavy as an anvil.  "'ot sauce!  Got your 'ot sauce here!  Only 10 cents an ounce!"  Gotta go!

Thursday, February 19, 2009

The Dance

It was the beginning.
It was the end.
The liveliness of my soul,
The happiness of my heart,
It was no more than four minutes,
Yet it seemed to last forever.
Like all good things it had to end.
Never again was I to experience that euphoria.
Never again.
It was the end.
But I have never forgotten.


Wednesday, February 18, 2009

What To Do When Bored

Here's a simple solution!
Get out your camera!
It's random picure time!
Take pictures of random things.
Take pictures with random people.
If your camera records, then make a movie.
Take pictures like your life will never be fun again!

Then, two days later when you are seriously bored, take out your camera and go through your pics and vids, and reminisce on how much fun you had. This method helps me; because it works so well (and because I'm such a kind person) I'm sharing it with you!

Enjoy.

Oh, yeah, check out http://margaritakroger.blogspot.com/, http://izzyyeliancekroger.blogspot.com/, http://sympathyhurts.blogspot.com,and/ others that I am following! There are tons of hilarious stories to alleviate your boredom.

Cuz I luv ya,

Imagine!

Imagine that you are in a dark room.
Imagine that your stomach is having a heck of a time bouncing around in your body.
Imagine the impossible.
Are you still reading this?
Why?
Didn't I just tell you to imagine?
Stop being so ignorant!
I despise ignorance.
Imagine, you are let out of school, and decide to play a game.
What game will you play?
Will you play hide-and-go-seek?
Will you play round rover?
Will you play the quiet game?
Will you die?
Will you die?
Will you jump on the firmament?
Will you ride the rainbow to the magical land of Tartus?
Will you build a time machine to meet Constatine?
Will you have a magical conversation with Marie Antoinette?
Will you sleep?


This thing is so random!
What is wrong with my thoughts?
I'm bored, but I'm not.
I should compose a poem.
But I have to write it in a notebook first, then type it.
Or maybe conversely.