Friendships - written 5/21/2000

It's kind of strange how you spend every day with the same people and it seems like the laughter will never end. Then all of a sudden, it is the end. You realize the people you tried to stay so close with were the ones you miss the least. It's those whose friendships grew unexpectedly that you miss the most when they are gone. Maybe this is our way to learn that we don't have to go so fast, and try so hard. All we have to do is relax and take things as they come. The relationships and friendships that sneak up on us are going to last longer than those which only stay alive with great effort. And it seems that out of the saddest days, and the end of great friendships, new friendships and stronger friendships are born. And once again, it's with someone you least expected. People say not to read into things and don't analyze everything but that's how we grow and learn.

"Things Change" written 11/9/1999

Why do people say "things change?" Things don't change, people don't change. Nothing changes. The sun rises and sets but it's still the sun. Sunrise still means a new day. Sunset still causes uneasy feelings in the fainthearted. People's attitudes, looks, and overall appearances may change but deep down, they are the same person they've always been. Someone may become thin or fat, rich or poor, unpopular or popular, but they still bleed if you stab them and they still hurt when you turn your back on them. Why don't people understand this? Nobody likes being mad, upset, or hurt, yet most don't think twice about hurting someone else. And like the sun rising over the ocean at the dawn of a new day, emotions can make some one's day brighter than ever. But every once in a while, a cloud covers the sun like self built facades cover a person's real emotions. But, if a person, just one person takes the time to push away that cloud, beneath it lies another bright day and sometimes a new beginning. So why do we all take the time to help someone else have a bright day. Perhaps it is because our emotions are so convoluted that people are afraid to indulge themselves in such an arduous situation.

"Mom" ... written in 1997

In a flash you were gone mom, before I could say goodbye.
Though when I start to miss you, I look up to the sky.
I know that's where you'll be, when you're looking down on me.
You'll then be able to see, I'm being the best I can be.
Though you're not here to guide me, I think I'm doing alright.
I'm getting by in life mom, with all my strength and might.
I gave a speech in school, and the teacher said "real good."
It brought tears to every one's eyes, but I knew it would.
I easily won the contest, so I stood and bowed.
I wish you could have seen it mom, you would have been so proud.
As I'm getting older, I'm beginning to understand.
You'll be there when I need you, you'll be my helping hand.
I will never forget you; you are always in my heart.
So I promise you mom, we'll never ever part.
Don't worry about me; I'm telling you I'll be fine.
That day will come soon, when you put your hand in mind.
When my life has ended, we will be together.
But until that day comes, it will seem like forever.
Please do me one favor mom, help me through the years.
My life is still to come, full of happiness and tears.
I cannot express how much I miss you, and I know you know I love you.
Until we meet in heaven mom, I know you love me too. 

Undated entry - early 2004...

Why does this pen move without my command? The ink continues to form letters and words despite my attempts to stop it. I'm tired, exhausted from asking the why's; that is all this pen does. It taunts me during my weakest moments. Daring me to further my confusions by asking questions for which there are no answers. The only answers have gone to the grave and aren't coming back. Do I subconsciously wish my words would raise from this page and make their way to the unknown? Into the heavens where an answer may be born. I don't think so, but I don't really know much of anything these days. Only what I'm told to do by holding this pen in such rhythmic fashion. It is my release. My deepest, darkest fears come to life in a way to assure those weaker hearts out there. But it's true, sometimes my pen moves without a conscious effort. Enthralled by the yellows and golds filling the evening sky and the music pulsating my ears. I have to stop and look at what words I have formed and look for some meaning within them. Maybe something great will one day drop from my mind into this ink. I could then say my purpose here has been fulfilled.

All I want to do in this twisted world is remind people it really isn't endless. How did I become what I have become? I've tried to follow the path of honesty and integrity only to be thrown off course time and time again by fallen trees and piled rocks. And time after time I've hurdled those fallen trees and climbed those rock piles until my fingers have bled. Always thinking something greater awaits me beyond the present inconvenience only to find there's nothing there. Greatness has overlooked my soul and moved onto someone less deserving.

This feeling in my chest becomes more apparent. The voice in the back of my mind becomes clearer. Holding back what needs to be said becomes harder and harder. But the knowledge that those words will ultimately be misunderstood is more overwhelming than knowing the silence may be fatal. What do I do? Do I remain silent and watch who I respect be torn down violently from the very pedestal they've placed themselves upon? Or do I risk everything in a fruitless attempt to save them from themselves? It's one of those things that cannot be answered and the risk can only produce a product of emotion. I've seen the powerful and I've seen the weak; neither has anything over the other. Each has their own that needs to be protected. 

But how do I get others to see this. To see what I in my young life have already experienced. I'm young and not like my young friends. Inside I feel old, older than I should ever feel. How with time and experience can I ever feel older than this. It can't be possible. I don't know how to make it stop. The words fly through my head like the matter that hurls through space with no exact direction, location, or plan. Just there, bumping and crashing into nothingness. I will never be understood. I am a fish swimming upstream in a river all my own. The current forever fighting against me. Like the world forever fighting against itself.  It's a carousel going round and round. No beginning, no end. The seats rise and fall almost poetically to the rhythm of the world. Only one thing can permanently stop the motion, lack of power. The power stops and the momentum slows for once the world defies the laws of physics. The very balance of the universe is thrown off beyond repair. Before we know it the sun and moon collide. The planets bounce ferociously off the magnetic fields of others. The end result is utter chaos.