Because I Feel Like It

I write words. I don't know how many or what point they will be forced into proving, but I write them down anyway. Sometimes they go on my laptop, sometimes on a full sheet of loose-leaf, but most often they happen to appear on little scraps of ripped paper. I have quite the collection of those all over my bedroom. Song titles and their designated band or artist, poems, mere reminders, or perhaps even lyrics I've written for a song I plan to compose. I don't know. They're just there.

Letters turn into words. Words turn into sentences. Sentences turn into paragraphs. Sometimes it goes on like this for quite a while. For me, writing helps me overcome whatever emotional pain I'll be experiencing at the time. That being said, I write a lot.

It's sort of become a kind if uncontrollable impulse. Once a pen is grasped within my ugly little hands, you never know what words will flow through me and onto the paper. You can probably imagine how awkward it is for my math teacher to be sitting at home, watching Scooby-Doo or whatever it is teachers like to watch and marking my homework only to come across a little depressing poem sloppily hand-written at the bottom of the sheet and having to deal with the look she gives me as she hands it back the next day. Said expression is not exactly one would want from the person determining whether you'll make it to the next grade or not.

An abundance of all my mindless creations never even get to reach anyone else's eyes. The main reason for this is mainly because the majority of what I write is too personal and private to share. So they sit, saved on my computer, thrown in a drawer, or stuffed in my backpack, hidden from the rest of the world. Their mere existence is unannounced to every passer by. Only my mind contains the knowledge needed to find them in their little hiding spots.

Sometimes I get the urge to write and it simply cannot be ignored. And sometimes I want to go to Starbucks, curl up with a cup of hot-chocolate and write the day away. But I can't because Starbucks is too expensive and they'd probably kick me out after lurking there for more than half the afternoon.

I don't imagine myself to be the best writer in the universe, but it makes me happy so why not?

I Am A Mess

You self-conscious fool,

Look at what you've done;

Without someone to love,

You loose all the fun.

Give up, go home,

And never return;

Your mind is a witch,

So I'll watch you burn.

No Better Thing Or Word Than Spelunking

Today I was watching a television show on caves and spelunking. If it were my decision, caves would be considered a wonder of the world — even the tiny ones. Truly gorgeous. Whilst viewing this show, it made me think of all the caves I've been to during my short, worthless life. To be honest, I've only been in two, but that's not the point. The point is how amazing they truly are.

A few years back, my family and I took a vacation to the wonderful province of British Columbia (we go there a lot). During that trip we visited a mountain that happened to have a cave spelunking tour and being the completely extreme, adventurous family we are, we decided on the easiest beginner route. The only part of the trip that was difficult in any sense was the virtually vertical hike up the mountain to where the caves were actually located. Utterly strenuous. After about an hour and a half of the trek, we eventually did reach the top and readied ourselves for the descent into the damp darkness.

I must say, from the few lights that were conveniently located on the tops of our helmets, I have never seen anything so amazing. Underground, you see things and shapes made by nothing but water and the minerals it contains. I find it hard to believe that it takes years for them to form such creations and that something as simple as a human touch could bring it crashing down, leaving nothing but regret with the person whom caused such damage. Luckily, nothing of that matter happened when we were down there.

The single detail that I remember the most is when our guide led us to the bottom of the small cave and told us to turn off our helmet lights and witness complete darkness. She asked us in her striking Australian accent to wave our hand in front of our faces. Being the egotistical group we were, almost every person out of the twenty or so that came along for the trip scoffed in her face and directly stated that they could see their hands perfectly clear. The guide seemed to be expecting this, however, because she merely laughed and told us to grab a partner and hold up a certain number of fingers in front of their faces and then see if it wasn't so dark. The scorn within the group soon turned to shock as we realized that we couldn't see anything at all and listened attentively as our Australian guide explained that our brains know what they're supposed to see when we wave our own hands in front of our faces, and fool us into believing that we have vision.

Image credit: http://www.hotnaturally.com/img/img_man-in-caves.jpg

That cave was probably more riveting since it was less influenced by man than the second one I visited. Still in B.C., my family then travelled to Ainsworth Hot Springs Resort. Here, the luxuriously warm water runs in a loop that goes into one cave and out another. I love visiting hot springs as it is, but the caves seemed to give the whole atmosphere that extra something. It gave me that same sensation that makes me want to curl up in a warm blanket next to a window spattered with rain drops and read a good book whilst listening to some sort of ambient music. Wonderful. Despite the crowds, it was a pleasant experience and I would love to relive every minute of it.

I have many absurd dreams and one of them is to discover and explore a cave that has never been found before by anyone. How exciting that would be. When I'm in a cave it feels as if I've entered a whole new world full of unique findings and endless adventures. I plan to go back to the mountain that contained the first cave I'd ever entered and take a more challenging route that will hopefully go deeper and darker than I've ever gone in one. One day…

I Barely Noticed

Only three more years. Three more years of being whatever I am now. A kid? A teen? A hopeless romantic? A loser? I don't know. All that I know for sure is that I'm suddenly so desperately afraid of loosing it.

This feeling all started last wednesday, as that day signalled the first day of high school. Yes, high school. Those memorable three years that everyone from fresh graduates to parents to seniors still recall and reflect upon whether it be good or bad. Call me crazy, but as soon as my feet crossed the threshold of the school, it felt as if my whole childhood flashed through my mind.

I saw my first trip to DisneyLand, the view I had from the naughty chair in kindergarten after I put Playdough in my friend's hair (and how she still gave me hugs after that), when it was still socially acceptable to use the facilities with the door wide open, the day in grade five when I lost the elephant charm on one of my necklaces, how I had the first and only fight to this day with my friend when we were in junior high, that stupid fight between my group of friends over a picture frame, the first day I laid my eyes on his beautiful face in grade seven, and how he still managed to break my heart in grade nine even though he wasn't even mine.

And then I was back beside my friend, laughing to hide the pain. The pain of the realization that I'm growing up. Obviously, I've always been aware that I'm getting older and it's not like I expected to stay nine years old forever, it's just that it all happened so fast. So remarkably fast. One minute I'm having the time of my life playing with Barbies with my brother, and the next I'm trying to block "his" face from reappearing in my mind as I'm trying to figure out trigonometry for the hundredth time. The contrast is obvious and so entirely sad.

I could go on forever about the changes, the memories, the pain of growing up, but why write seventeen novels when I can state everything I need to say in one sentence: I don't want to grow up.