Once, in the midst of an autumn night,
I opened brand new eyes, and met a man,
Whom they called granpa, I think...
though I'm starting to forget.
When I grew a little taller, he told me
That for a very long time, he'd waited
to finally meet me.
He'd painted some pretty pictures,
and I tried to copy them, with a sticky child's hand,
and in the pictures we would make,
he'd tell me a story, about how all of them were real,
somewhere.
Stories of his youth, of cherry pies and apple dumplings,
of the war, his fear of sharks.
Impossible tales of a time with no Television,
when your imagination, was all you ever had
Or so I'm told.
It was a long time ago
and I really can't remember.
And when he got even older,
he talked a lot of home, and how he missed it.
He really missed it, he said.
He'd give anything.
And finally, when he left me, one summer at lunch time,
that's where he went, they told me.
He'd gone home, and that's all.
He's happy now
or so they tell me.
Because I really don't know.
Years before, on a sunny, summer morning,
Alice met a man, named Charles,
who'd been watching her, for a very long time.
She was smart, and he was strange,
Or so I'm told.
I can't remember.
He had a camera in one hand,
hers in the other.
She was very young, then,
and he rather old.
But he told her a story, that day,
that a thousand ages, now behold.
He told her that there was a place, out there,
one like you'd never imagine.
A place of wonder, of curious madness
And beneath the sun, that day so long ago,
Little Alice, she fell down a rabbit hole
and years later, when her time came,
again, that's where she went.
She's drinking tea, right now and forever,
With a rabbit and a hatter, or so I'm told.
Because honestly,
I can't be sure.
I don't remember.
A few years later, waiting on a park bench,
there sat a play-write, by the name of James,
pondering the pages of an empty tale he couldn't tell,
when he found a woman, and her son.
Her name was Wendy, or so I'm told,
Because, truly, I'm not sure that's really it,
and his was Peter, I suppose,
and they were very tired.
So James took them to a faraway place,
on the second star to the right,
and he called it Neverland
or so I'm told.
Because, I'm starting to forget these things.
And I hear that, when you stayed there,
all you had to do
was believe.
And anything could happen.
You wouldn't have to grow up,
so you'd never have to die.
You could stay young forever.
Or so I'm told.
I don't know.
But if this place exists,
then Peter, and Wendy and James,
They're there, right now, I bet.
Playing games with the fairies,
just like Alice, down in Wonderland,
just like my Grandpa, wherever home becomes
when finally, it's time to go back.
Wherever they went, I'm sure they're happy.
Atleast, that's what they say.
It's nicer there, there are streets of gold,
sometimes, they call it “they yellow brick road.”
and Dorothy...I think she walks that road every night, up there,
and the poppies can't make here go to sleep
because she's already in the nicest, sweetest dream.
Or so I tell myself
because, really, I'll never know
until, finally, it's my turn.
And someday then,
when life's book ends,
I'll get to really do all those things
That I've dreamt of, for all these years.
I'll play croquet with the Queen of Hearts,
I'll battle Captain Hook.
I'll walk a road of yellow brick,
with shoes that bring me home.
And I'll paint a picture, one more time,
with my grandpa, who'd been waiting for me
who'd been watching me, for all these years.
And I'll be home, this time.
Or so I pray.
I'll go to that place, that I've built in my heart,
where my dreams will all come true.
And that's all I know, really,
even when I'm too old to remember all the rest.
And so I hang on
to this cup of ageless tea.
And this journal
where every story ever told
once began, with nothing but a dream.
And that's what I tell them,
when they fear the dark ahead.
I tell them that, really,
at the end of the road to Oz,
When the sun goes down, in wonderland,
when the moon shines bright, in Neverland,
When your mother calls you home, to dinner....
This place, it's always open to you.
And, honestly, that's all we ever
need to know.
So don't forget that.
Please remember.
And don't lose your sense of home.
Imagine one, a place of make believe,
and someday, I think,
you'll really get to go there.
And you'll smile, and you'll fly,
and you'll remember everything.
Everything.
Every moment of your childhood, every breath of your youth,
and you'll taste it all, on your tongue, again.
Forget everything, for now,
because someday, it'll all come back to you.
And in the end,
that's all I ever
did remember.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Quote of the Week, June 9th
Hey guys!
I think I'll start posting these "Quotes of the Week" every now and then, for I'm helplessly obsessed with quotes. Enjoy!
"In the midst of Winter,
I finally learned,
That there lived within me
an Invincible Summer."
-Albert Camus
I think I'll start posting these "Quotes of the Week" every now and then, for I'm helplessly obsessed with quotes. Enjoy!
"In the midst of Winter,
I finally learned,
That there lived within me
an Invincible Summer."
-Albert Camus
An Ode to Middle School: It's Been Fun :)
Well, I'm officially a Freshie :) Middle school ended yesterday, and the night before, I wrote this. It's become a tradition, actually, to write something similar to this on the eve before the last day of school. On these nights, I'm emotional, sentimental, ecstatic, nervous...I feel everything possible to feel without exploding. Writing, like always, is the only thing that calms me down and brings me closer to the way I really feel.
So, here's my ode to middle school.
If you're in the same position as I am, I know you'll understand how I feel :)
-EES
June 7th, 2011, Grade 8
I remember when I was in elementary school; an awkward, always sticky brunette with a tendency to never shut up. I wore things that never matched, and my hair would undoubtedly be a mess all day, because really, who cared about what anyone looked like? There were more important things to worry about: who's crayon box had the built in sharpener, the latest installment in the haunting saga of Spongebob Square Pants, or what would be served for snack time that day, for instance.
I remember idly sitting on my friend Mattias's swing set one morning when we were about eight or nine, talking about high school.
“I can't wait 'till high school!” She said. “I mean, we'll all be so pretty, with boyfriends, and we'll wear skirts and stuff!”
“Skirts?” I ventured. “Why can't we wear skirts now? What's the difference?”
Matti just shook her head at my ignorance. “In elementary school, you get made fun of for dressing like that! In high school, it's how the 'populars' dress.”
~ ~
All through childhood, we dream of growing up. We dream of being a so called “teenager”, breaking the rules, having all the fun. We pictured a life of glamor and popularity, pedicures and perfect hair, pretty outfits and a seclusive circle of friends. We pictured dating as the modern equivalent of “Romeo and Juliet”, school as just another thing for our teenage selves to complain about.
I think that, as a kid, you take childhood for granted. Until it's almost over, we don't realize that these are the best years of our lives, that every second is a memory. That every step we take in our youth leads us closer to the future, and the miles we'll run to make our dreams come true. That this is the time of our lives where we don't relic in the things out of our reach, where we smile at every little mistake we make, because for few more years, they won't ever really matter. Just bumps in the road, quirks that will one day shape us into the people we've been waiting to become.
And until we get there...it's all just this crazy, surreal dream, before it turns into reality, and we realize that not much has changed, after all.
Nearing the end of sixth grade, my peers and I were bombarded with lectures and pamphlets galore about the “struggles of middle school” and “an easy transition.” Guidance counselors talked to us about high school drama and homework, relationships and managing our schedules. We were all scared out of our wits, thinking that whoever invented high school belonged in a respectably hostile prison, and wondering how the seniors made it look so easy.
On the first day of seventh grade, after a long summer of anxiety and dread, we all came to the stunning realization that at the end of elementary school, they prep you a bit too much. That really, nothing changes, after all.
On the bus that morning, my best friend, Lexie, hardly spoke, and neither did I. We were too nervous. We had no idea what was waiting for us behind those doors, no idea if we'd still be friends at the end of the day, for high school, or so they told us, was a place of drama above all else.
It's funny how the world changes when you go to middle school. You see that it's not all glamor and parties like the movies like to say it is. You see that girls still wear sweat pants and tee shirts, that skirts and makeup don't make you popular. You notice that you're still best friends with the idiots you've always hung around, because switching schools doesn't switch who you are.
It's just school, in the end.
But school's a lot more than books and numbers. Like childhood, it's the time in your life where you figure out who you are, what you want to be, who you'll become. It's the best time of our lives, so why bother worrying about the transition? Everyone grows up, eventually. It's life. It's terrible and it's beautiful, all at the same time.
Seventh grade went by in an absolute breeze. I was friends with the same group of morons, still obsessed with the same stupid things, still laughing at the same pointless jokes. The only difference is that we'd all gotten a little taller. That we'd caught a little taste of what reality might become one day, though we still refused to believe it'd be anything less than perfect. Our concerns were still minor: homework, lunch money, what was to be served for dinner tonight.
Now, nearing the end of eighth grade, it amazes me how scared I was at this time, two years ago. How high school was still something out of horror movies and soap operas. How I thought that everything would change, at the end of the summer. That we'd all grow up, and leave our old, awkward selves behind.
But that's not true. I know that now.
Tomorrow, middle school's done and over with, and still, nothing's changed. My hair's still messy, I still get peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I laugh too loud at things that really aren't even all that funny. I'm immature, I'm obnoxious, I dress like I just rolled out of bed some days. But that's alright, I guess. It's what makes me who I am.
And I'm proud to say that, now, at the end of middle school, high school racing fast around the corner...I'm not scared. No matter where high school takes me, I'll always be me, at the end of the day. I'll have my books and my keyboard to come home to every night, idiotic friends who love me no matter what I do or say to fall back on when life gets in the way.
I may not be that cheerleader with the perfect smile and boyfriend that television forced me to believe I'd become, but I'm happy, and I'm living the most incredible childhood, that I know I will always look back on it as being the best time of my life.
This year was no different from Kindergarten, I see now. My peers are still immature, and always will be. My friends and I still make up pointless songs at lunch, and sing them in study hall. We still don't really worry about the way we look, or the things we say. Because, after all, what does it matter?
This is the best time of our lives, and I'm thrilled to be riding the roller coaster. I'm only half way up the first hill, right now, but at the start of the school year in the fall, I know I'm going to love every second of the free fall, knowing that so many more twists and turns are ahead of me, but not caring about how long it takes me to get there. The ride is the only part that matters, so I'm not scared of the destination. Not at all. When I get there, I'll know myself, inside and out. I'll be all grown up, a lopsided vision of the dreams I had in Kindergarten.
The rest of my life will greet me at the bottom, and I'll embrace it with open arms.
I won't be scared. Because in high school, I will have found myself, and in the end, that's all that ever mattered.
I hope that, when I get there, nothing will have changed. Just like nothing changed from elementary to high school, just like nothing changed when, finally, we all had to grow up a little bit.
It's been an incredible ride, and when it comes time to get off, I'll know that all my dreams have finally come true.
It was fun.
Thanks for the memories.
I'll see you at the class reunion, in twenty years, when again we'll see that time will always be on our sides. That we're always gonna be those awkward kids with high hopes, big dreams, and sticky fingers.
Middle school was full of memories, and high school will be just the same.
In just three months...I'll be old enough to have an ABC Family drama written about my life. I'll be called a “teenager.”
Funny, how it's not as exciting as it sounds, anymore. Just part of life. Just reality.
But reality's a magical thing. Don't ever forget that. Use these years to find yourself, and aim for the highest of stars.
I'll meet you there, one day, when I'm finally all grown up.
We'll say things like “remember in high school when...” and it'll seem like a lifetime ago. A beautiful, quirky, pimply, embarrassing, sickly sweet time of our lives where everything fell into place. The best years of our lives.
So now...
Thank you, middle school.
It's been an amazing few years, spent with you.
I'll never forget them.
So, here's my ode to middle school.
If you're in the same position as I am, I know you'll understand how I feel :)
-EES
June 7th, 2011, Grade 8
I remember when I was in elementary school; an awkward, always sticky brunette with a tendency to never shut up. I wore things that never matched, and my hair would undoubtedly be a mess all day, because really, who cared about what anyone looked like? There were more important things to worry about: who's crayon box had the built in sharpener, the latest installment in the haunting saga of Spongebob Square Pants, or what would be served for snack time that day, for instance.
I remember idly sitting on my friend Mattias's swing set one morning when we were about eight or nine, talking about high school.
“I can't wait 'till high school!” She said. “I mean, we'll all be so pretty, with boyfriends, and we'll wear skirts and stuff!”
“Skirts?” I ventured. “Why can't we wear skirts now? What's the difference?”
Matti just shook her head at my ignorance. “In elementary school, you get made fun of for dressing like that! In high school, it's how the 'populars' dress.”
~ ~
All through childhood, we dream of growing up. We dream of being a so called “teenager”, breaking the rules, having all the fun. We pictured a life of glamor and popularity, pedicures and perfect hair, pretty outfits and a seclusive circle of friends. We pictured dating as the modern equivalent of “Romeo and Juliet”, school as just another thing for our teenage selves to complain about.
I think that, as a kid, you take childhood for granted. Until it's almost over, we don't realize that these are the best years of our lives, that every second is a memory. That every step we take in our youth leads us closer to the future, and the miles we'll run to make our dreams come true. That this is the time of our lives where we don't relic in the things out of our reach, where we smile at every little mistake we make, because for few more years, they won't ever really matter. Just bumps in the road, quirks that will one day shape us into the people we've been waiting to become.
And until we get there...it's all just this crazy, surreal dream, before it turns into reality, and we realize that not much has changed, after all.
Nearing the end of sixth grade, my peers and I were bombarded with lectures and pamphlets galore about the “struggles of middle school” and “an easy transition.” Guidance counselors talked to us about high school drama and homework, relationships and managing our schedules. We were all scared out of our wits, thinking that whoever invented high school belonged in a respectably hostile prison, and wondering how the seniors made it look so easy.
On the first day of seventh grade, after a long summer of anxiety and dread, we all came to the stunning realization that at the end of elementary school, they prep you a bit too much. That really, nothing changes, after all.
On the bus that morning, my best friend, Lexie, hardly spoke, and neither did I. We were too nervous. We had no idea what was waiting for us behind those doors, no idea if we'd still be friends at the end of the day, for high school, or so they told us, was a place of drama above all else.
It's funny how the world changes when you go to middle school. You see that it's not all glamor and parties like the movies like to say it is. You see that girls still wear sweat pants and tee shirts, that skirts and makeup don't make you popular. You notice that you're still best friends with the idiots you've always hung around, because switching schools doesn't switch who you are.
It's just school, in the end.
But school's a lot more than books and numbers. Like childhood, it's the time in your life where you figure out who you are, what you want to be, who you'll become. It's the best time of our lives, so why bother worrying about the transition? Everyone grows up, eventually. It's life. It's terrible and it's beautiful, all at the same time.
Seventh grade went by in an absolute breeze. I was friends with the same group of morons, still obsessed with the same stupid things, still laughing at the same pointless jokes. The only difference is that we'd all gotten a little taller. That we'd caught a little taste of what reality might become one day, though we still refused to believe it'd be anything less than perfect. Our concerns were still minor: homework, lunch money, what was to be served for dinner tonight.
Now, nearing the end of eighth grade, it amazes me how scared I was at this time, two years ago. How high school was still something out of horror movies and soap operas. How I thought that everything would change, at the end of the summer. That we'd all grow up, and leave our old, awkward selves behind.
But that's not true. I know that now.
Tomorrow, middle school's done and over with, and still, nothing's changed. My hair's still messy, I still get peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I laugh too loud at things that really aren't even all that funny. I'm immature, I'm obnoxious, I dress like I just rolled out of bed some days. But that's alright, I guess. It's what makes me who I am.
And I'm proud to say that, now, at the end of middle school, high school racing fast around the corner...I'm not scared. No matter where high school takes me, I'll always be me, at the end of the day. I'll have my books and my keyboard to come home to every night, idiotic friends who love me no matter what I do or say to fall back on when life gets in the way.
I may not be that cheerleader with the perfect smile and boyfriend that television forced me to believe I'd become, but I'm happy, and I'm living the most incredible childhood, that I know I will always look back on it as being the best time of my life.
This year was no different from Kindergarten, I see now. My peers are still immature, and always will be. My friends and I still make up pointless songs at lunch, and sing them in study hall. We still don't really worry about the way we look, or the things we say. Because, after all, what does it matter?
This is the best time of our lives, and I'm thrilled to be riding the roller coaster. I'm only half way up the first hill, right now, but at the start of the school year in the fall, I know I'm going to love every second of the free fall, knowing that so many more twists and turns are ahead of me, but not caring about how long it takes me to get there. The ride is the only part that matters, so I'm not scared of the destination. Not at all. When I get there, I'll know myself, inside and out. I'll be all grown up, a lopsided vision of the dreams I had in Kindergarten.
The rest of my life will greet me at the bottom, and I'll embrace it with open arms.
I won't be scared. Because in high school, I will have found myself, and in the end, that's all that ever mattered.
I hope that, when I get there, nothing will have changed. Just like nothing changed from elementary to high school, just like nothing changed when, finally, we all had to grow up a little bit.
It's been an incredible ride, and when it comes time to get off, I'll know that all my dreams have finally come true.
It was fun.
Thanks for the memories.
I'll see you at the class reunion, in twenty years, when again we'll see that time will always be on our sides. That we're always gonna be those awkward kids with high hopes, big dreams, and sticky fingers.
Middle school was full of memories, and high school will be just the same.
In just three months...I'll be old enough to have an ABC Family drama written about my life. I'll be called a “teenager.”
Funny, how it's not as exciting as it sounds, anymore. Just part of life. Just reality.
But reality's a magical thing. Don't ever forget that. Use these years to find yourself, and aim for the highest of stars.
I'll meet you there, one day, when I'm finally all grown up.
We'll say things like “remember in high school when...” and it'll seem like a lifetime ago. A beautiful, quirky, pimply, embarrassing, sickly sweet time of our lives where everything fell into place. The best years of our lives.
So now...
Thank you, middle school.
It's been an amazing few years, spent with you.
I'll never forget them.
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