Summer shuffled along, exhausted
Taking quiet happiness in its pocket
Leaving in its widened and weathered path
A staggering stillness
Waiting to be tipped
Until its contents were strewn about
In a mess of chaos and emotions
Scattered, irreversible
Autumn crept in and took its residence
Displaying beauty in rich color
and sound and smell, like those of childhood
In attempts to hide the death
The intimate sadness of the past
Falling of the summer strongholds
The leaves, the grass, all give way to frost
And my innocence to confusion
Now, among trees the color of cinnamon
And the breath of morning fog
The sky churns, a sea of grey
Tempting, taunting my mind to implode
Causing my soul to stir
Deciding; affection, anger, persistence, in an instant
"Defy us," dared the blackening cloud; I accept
I cannot fold up, I refuse
Those tricky talks, our little smiles
Have been uprooted from the floor of my mind
We were friends in the maze of people
Fumbling with hands and feelings tied
As autumn clears the path for winter
The snows will set in, white and clean
Wipe this slate anew once more
With nothing more than a glance or a word
Monday, October 15, 2012
Friday, October 5, 2012
On a lighter note, Senior Photos
Let's just be self-obsessed, Molly, and post these again. Because that's completely necessary.
Unffff.
Sometimes, life makes absolutely no sense at all. This week was one of those times.
I just don't even know anymore.
I just don't even know anymore.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Excitement
Today's mundanity was saved by the news that I made the high school ensemble choir!
I've been nervous about this for almost two weeks, because the initial auditions were that long ago. There were calbacks a few days later, which were even more terrifying. I'm so thrilled; I tried out when I was a freshman and was terrible, and I've been too scared to try out again ever since. But since this year I'm trying to shake it up and go for the opportunities in my life, I decided to give it a try. I was told that I did pretty darn well this year, and the I guess the callback solidified that. It's an amazing feeling.
I feel so blessed. I know I am not nearly as good as most of the other singers in the group. But I am going to work so hard to impress them and be the best singer I can be.
I've been nervous about this for almost two weeks, because the initial auditions were that long ago. There were calbacks a few days later, which were even more terrifying. I'm so thrilled; I tried out when I was a freshman and was terrible, and I've been too scared to try out again ever since. But since this year I'm trying to shake it up and go for the opportunities in my life, I decided to give it a try. I was told that I did pretty darn well this year, and the I guess the callback solidified that. It's an amazing feeling.
I feel so blessed. I know I am not nearly as good as most of the other singers in the group. But I am going to work so hard to impress them and be the best singer I can be.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
College Essay Draft...
This is just a draft. Keep that in mind. I have major editing to do.
PAST AND FUTURE: A Conversation with Myself
Yesterday I sat impatiently on a park bench overlooking a small creek, checking the time on my phone after every few seconds. I was early – a rarity – and I was anxious. After another few time-checks, a rustling of leaves caused me to jerk my head to the left. Approaching was a young girl with messy brown hair, wearing a purple button-down and denim capris. She had grass stains on her knees and was missing a button on her shirt. She was looking at me, but she wasn’t totally focused on the surrounding environment, or me for that matter. A daydreamer.
When she finally focused herself on me, she gave me a grin and waved. She was missing a bottom tooth. The gap in her smile gave her a slight lisp when she addressed me, and proceeded lightly skip to her seat on the bench, next to me. We sat, immersed in small talk about school and other particulars, until our other company joined us.
“School is pretty fun!” she said. “I have a really nice teacher, but I don’t really like doing homework. My mom gets so mad at me, but I always complain about doing it.”
“That’s not a good way to look at homework; it will stick with you until you are my age. You have to learn to pace yourself, and complete things over time or at the right time,” I told her.
She explained the way that most of the girls in third grade really had best friends, except her, but that everyone was fairly friendly to each other. The boys were weird and annoying, though. I told her that boys don’t change; they will be the same in high school. She also quietly spoke a few words about how her dad was living in a small house, away from her family. She said that she doesn’t think he is going to be allowed to come home. Separation with parents is hard, I told her, but it does get better over time. She was quiet for a moment, and smiled. She told me that she was thinking that she was thinking about wanting to be a teacher when she was older, or a doctor; she explained how she had begun to love her science class and her English class.
Just then, our other company arrived, wearing khakis and a sweater. She had a pager attached to her hip. Her face was still fairly young, but the exhaustion was tangible in the soft grey circles under her eyes. She gave a hello and a smile to us, and sat on my other side, pulling her long brown hair into a ponytail. She explained how she had been up for hours, going over paperwork for her child patients. “I thought that after so many years of school, I’d get a break. Not the case,” she said with a laugh. “But it’s so rewarding, working with kids.” I asked about education, about what comes after high school. “Years of studying”, she replied. She explained that schooling had caused her to become more of a realist, but the good that she can do for children has made her a more positive person than she had been as a teenager, when cynicism overtook much of her personality.
We had to bid each other goodbye, as it was the evening when we finished talking. We hugged, and said farewell.
“See ya, Molly!”
“Bye, Molly.”
“Goodbye, Molly.”
PAST AND FUTURE: A Conversation with Myself
Yesterday I sat impatiently on a park bench overlooking a small creek, checking the time on my phone after every few seconds. I was early – a rarity – and I was anxious. After another few time-checks, a rustling of leaves caused me to jerk my head to the left. Approaching was a young girl with messy brown hair, wearing a purple button-down and denim capris. She had grass stains on her knees and was missing a button on her shirt. She was looking at me, but she wasn’t totally focused on the surrounding environment, or me for that matter. A daydreamer.
When she finally focused herself on me, she gave me a grin and waved. She was missing a bottom tooth. The gap in her smile gave her a slight lisp when she addressed me, and proceeded lightly skip to her seat on the bench, next to me. We sat, immersed in small talk about school and other particulars, until our other company joined us.
“School is pretty fun!” she said. “I have a really nice teacher, but I don’t really like doing homework. My mom gets so mad at me, but I always complain about doing it.”
“That’s not a good way to look at homework; it will stick with you until you are my age. You have to learn to pace yourself, and complete things over time or at the right time,” I told her.
She explained the way that most of the girls in third grade really had best friends, except her, but that everyone was fairly friendly to each other. The boys were weird and annoying, though. I told her that boys don’t change; they will be the same in high school. She also quietly spoke a few words about how her dad was living in a small house, away from her family. She said that she doesn’t think he is going to be allowed to come home. Separation with parents is hard, I told her, but it does get better over time. She was quiet for a moment, and smiled. She told me that she was thinking that she was thinking about wanting to be a teacher when she was older, or a doctor; she explained how she had begun to love her science class and her English class.
Just then, our other company arrived, wearing khakis and a sweater. She had a pager attached to her hip. Her face was still fairly young, but the exhaustion was tangible in the soft grey circles under her eyes. She gave a hello and a smile to us, and sat on my other side, pulling her long brown hair into a ponytail. She explained how she had been up for hours, going over paperwork for her child patients. “I thought that after so many years of school, I’d get a break. Not the case,” she said with a laugh. “But it’s so rewarding, working with kids.” I asked about education, about what comes after high school. “Years of studying”, she replied. She explained that schooling had caused her to become more of a realist, but the good that she can do for children has made her a more positive person than she had been as a teenager, when cynicism overtook much of her personality.
We had to bid each other goodbye, as it was the evening when we finished talking. We hugged, and said farewell.
“See ya, Molly!”
“Bye, Molly.”
“Goodbye, Molly.”
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
The Thoughts of a Rainy Day
The rain gets me thinking. The steady staccato against my windows sets my mind in overdrive, pondering at one-hundred-miles-per-hour, jutting around different ideas like a pinball machine. Why are my eyes green? Why are my toes so oddly shaped? Is there a reason for me to have freckles in places that are NOT my face? Why does someone you aren't supposed to like look so good when he smiles at you? Am I going to be good enough for college? Why do people you love have to hurt you? Can these jeans actually make me look a little thinner? Why is he ignoring me, did I do something wrong? Did I sing well enough to be in the ensemble? Will I be able to get a good grade in AP Bio? Am I seriously going to be forever alone? What exactly is the function of a rubber duck?
In retrospect, I probably should have been writing my college essay instead of this. Oops.
In retrospect, I probably should have been writing my college essay instead of this. Oops.
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