Friday, November 28, 2008

Learning To Love Me

I've been working on a project for some time now.
A crisis of self arose, this fall. My mind and body were not connected for what seemed like weeks.
For whatever reason, I could find no common ground, and unhappiness settled in like never before.
But, I have good news.
Everything is coming together. I am finding out more about myself every day.
I am making myself come together; completion of goals is key to my success right now.
I cannot wait to show my mother successful grades.
I cannot wait to see my source-of-smile, during break.
I have found things to look forward to.
Reasons to press forward on this strenuous path.

Smile, Jane.
You're going to be just fine.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

A Letter To Jane

Dearest Self,
I'm terrified of whats to come, you know. The future really is the scariest place to go, in this life. But I have you.
You who knows me like no other ever can, or will.
We've been through some rough times, haven't we? It only feels lately like we're headed for even more. It feels okay though.
I wake up with your thoughts, your ideas in my head. You're smarter than they give you credit for, you know.
You're strong, and much too wise for your young age. Long years, these have been. It may even seem at times that your memory is failing; based on the hurt you can recall, and the happiness you cannot.
Have no fear. A bright horizon comes to those who work for it, love.
Love Always,

P.S. I'm proud of the four papers you did tonight, too! :)

Monday, November 10, 2008

Sometimes I write emails.
Sometimes, those emails fill everything in.

Hello, Johnny.
Just thinking of how long it's been since I got to give you the real details of my ever-changing life.
I just finished smoking a joint with our Jamaican next-door neighbor, and I figure that now is as good a time as any to fill you in.
I had mentioned that I moved our of my original apartment, I believe. Well, since my "best friend" and our ridiculously gay "land lord" would have me locked in my room alone, playing Cinderella after school and long shifts at work, I decided that I was better off risking the drug-dealing hippie kids I met at school. (That's an entirely different story, which I'm sure you'll eventually hear.)
I'm now in Westbrook, after a two-week stint in South Portland. Marvelous change, if you like crack-heads and sixteen years in your neighborhood. The roommates are much improved though, and are content with my status as a barely-employed loan kid.
School is a menace, Johnny. Not a day has gone by where I did NOT feel as though I wanted to burn the damn buildings down, simultaneously. However, some of my teachers are easily conned, which is a bonus. (I have my history teacher thinking that I'm a victim of life's misfortunes, when the truth is, I'm a victim of spontaneous laziness and pot-smoking. She is nice though; it's unfortunate to have to con her so.)
I suppose I should release you from this boring-as-fuck letter now.
Do take care, love.

PS, I am no expert,
But I would suggest you put the sarcasm above out of your mind.
this was just me, self-evaluating.