Journal by Journal

They kept her up at night She tried to find them but they stay out of sight Words and words they’d fly around Infinitely increasing the loudness in her head but no one else could hear a sound Trying to sleep, laying in her bed Useless they kept her from sleep They kept her from peace

My thoughts are scrambled The voices in my head are many They scream when I need peace There’s only one way to quiet them And that way is..

When you are lost in the unknown And you can’t be comforted, you are truly alone You will continue to fall into the terrible darkness And you will think you truly are heartless It must be good, it must be harmless But you have trouble holding on to the rope that they will hold you with You don’t want to be held you want to be free Being free will mean death, being free will be more alone then you have ever known You will continue to fall in the darkness but it won’t hurt, You will hit the bottom and before you can feel a thing you will be gone If you can hold on it won’t be easy, it will burn your hands and rocks will fall upon you You will suffer you will be in pain But you must make a choice Let go or Hold on

Life is born here Death is created here ticking is the clock to see which will outrun the other.

Your passion of teaching, cursed by a twinge of apathy It was used an abused, even by me. See when you started teaching at this school Your style was relaxed, maxed, acting all cool. Teaching was your business so why not ignore the rude? Even though, daily, it put you in a bad mood. You decided, you limited and set the bar where no kid should cross But you gave us an inch and we took a mile Because we we're kids, just here to laugh and smile. We took that limit, that bar you set And reached it as fast as we could. No fret. After that we knew your patience we could stretch You gave us a bone and you bet we can fetch It's a game for them and I And until you you cheat, away we'll fly. Victors of the class, the room is ours Until you put us back behind bars The apathy, do not let us abuse Because you've learned, to us it's just a muse.

start a new life, one without the distractions because level 54 is just like 53

“The Coconut Flower”      In the very firsthours of Thursday March 18th I met Christian and his accomplice. A white man with a beard who looked like the comical version of Satan himself. His acquaintance, a taller black man stood nearby. It is not their physical appearance that originally attracted me to them. It was what they were doing.      I watched them expertly fold, twist and weave coconut palm leaves together until a flower began to take shape which was perfectly silhouetted in my view from across the street. The man I would soon learn was named Christian walked up to a girl, waiting for a taxi, and handed her the very flower he had just created. With a blush she accepted it. I knew I had to talk to him.      Christian, a man who was obviously very laid back, along with his partner told me about how they travel between cities in Florida creating flowers, baskets, an grasshoppers out of palm leaves. They told me about “us”, their group of free-spirited lovers of life, sometimes living together and creating things together but most importantly living life to it’s fullest as one.      “Hey man, you with us?”  The black man said “Yea, I'm with ya” I replied, understanding the unsaid details of his question “Good man” he replied “that means you can ask us anything, anytime, you need something? We got you, you're one of us now”      I felt as if I was a part of something bigger, as if I had joined a society of people who had left this plane of existence and created a whole new existence. Who created their own world, their very own life and they lived life.