Ode to Molloy by Samuel Beckett

<dedicated to Molloy by Samuel Beckett - my english project>

I was told that you were challenging and that I wasn't ready,

but I didn't listen and when I was given an extension to change books

I stuck with you because the language was beautifully chaotic

and reminded me a little bit about myself.

I thought that maybe I would learn about myself

by reading this book that every teacher said I was too young for

and I wanted the challenge

that books stopped presenting to me when I turned 6

and read chapter books without pictures that were hundreds of pages long.

oh how wrong I was.

At first the going wasn't easy,

but not hard,

it was an experience and I loved the ways the words twisted around me

and made my mind swirl

unlike any other book that I have ever read.

And then deadlines began to draw near and I couldn't keep up

with the time that I had left,

I wanted to savor the words as I read them

and now I only have 4 days left and I'm not even half way through,

my mind can't keep up with the words that are being thrown at me

and I think that I might literally die

because of the effort that I am putting into this one book.

You have taught me so much,

more than any other book I have read,

but I really wish that I could go back and read a different book

because I have to admit that my teacher was right,

I'm not ready for this book,

at least under a deadline.

I know that I could read you if I had a year,

but a month wasn't nearly enough.

You have changed my way of thinking,

but I regret choosing to read you for this assignment.

The thoughts you present me make my mind swirl

and I don't know if I can function anymore.

I do have to say though;

if I do die reading you,

at least I tried and even a few pages were enough

to make me rethink everything I have ever thought.

Thanks for the learning and the torture,

you have taught me much,

but I wouldn't recommending reading you in only a month.

_______________________________________________

this is dedicated to Molloy a novel by the writer Samuel Beckett which I had to read for an english project. I regret that decision everyday :) but it was totally worth it in the end because it was a good book ♥

~AT

A Tale Of Self Discovery (Sad)

She hadn't written in months, too consumed by self discovery to take the time and release her emotions onto a blank page, or maybe four.  Too busy, she explained to the inner writer that was screaming to be released, too occupied with the world that she so much wanted to be admired by.

Once, long before, she didn't care about trivial things like make up and style, preferring to wear jeans and a baggy shirt instead of mini skirts and tight shirts that fell so low they didn't count as clothing, revealing too much of nothing. But now she wears the scanty clothing and just like she ditched her old clothes, she ditched her old friends too; trading them for girls who got drunk on weekends and had sex on weekdays.  What once sickened her now drew her into its clutches while her friends and family stood by, unaware and helpless.

She fell to society and hated every minute of it, wishing that she could just walk away, but never able to. 

She lost her virginity at 13; too young to understand, too young to comprehend, too young to be anything yet.  Years of scanty clothing and getting drunk on weekends changed her, made her unrecognizable from the 12-year-old nerd that she used to be.

And she became the girl who everyone worshipped to her face and called a slut behind her back.  The Queen of broken hearts and stolen innocence.  She became nothing but drugs, sex, and alcohol and nobody seemed to care.

I did.

I used to watch her in class while she passed notes and giggled under her breath, making jokes that only the victims like me could hear and the teacher couldn't.  I didn't care, I could see the broken girl inside and I wanted to fix her, mend her, bring back the girl that she once was, the girl that still was screaming inside to be let free. I was told that it was impossible, but I never gave up.

I tutored her in math and said "hello" in the halls and placed notes in her locker about her beauty and strength.  In the end she told me everything and I listened, determined to fix the broken girl that stood in front of me.

It was an obsession, a thought that consumed my mind every day and night until one day when I woke up to birds singing and a sun shining and a hole in my heart.

She had comitted suicide the night before.

I went to her funeral dressed all in black, but not shedding a single tear.  I stared at her smiling picture and wished that I could have fixed that broken girl who had only wanted to find herself. I paid my respects in silence and turned to leave, but someone stopped me.  I looked into the red, tear stained, and empty eyes of her mother who handed me an envelope addressed to me in her neat, curly handwriting that I had grown to love. 

I didn't read what she had written for weeks to come and when I finally opened that neatly addressed envelope I held the pages and pages of her last outpourings of her heart and read every word on every page until my eyes blurred with tears and I cried for the first time.  I unfolded the last page of her writing that held only a few lines and then I let myself sob and mourn the girl who I had tried so hard to fix. 

You tried to fix me when I was too broken,

the only one who ever tried,

and I thank you.

I still find myself, years later, opening that envelope and shuffling through the pages until that one, short poem and I read it over and over again, never failing to shed a few tears over my lost and broken friend. The girl who though she was nothing, but really was everything.

____________________________________________

sorry it's depressing and sorry that I haven't posted in FOREVER!!! i wasn't getting comments so i didn't take the time, but then i figured that no comments didn't matter to me, but writing did, so i'm BACK :)

~AT

It feels like I have been a part of this world for my whole life,

that I was born into these twisted words

and thoughtful imaginings,

thinking up the story of my life before it even began.

My mother assures me that I kicked in the womb

like any normal baby,

but I wonder if I was really kicking

and not throwing notebooks of unfinished pieces

in complete fustration

at their failure to get across my feelings and emotions.

I wanted out of that balled up space,

into the open air of the world where I could breathe

and comtemplate my thoughts,

your thoughts,

the actions of that man who just knocked my mother over

in his desparation to get away from the store that he had just robbed a coat from,

for his little daughter.

I wonder if I know her,

have ever seen her before,

bumped into her in the never ending hallways of high school.

I remember kindergarten and preschool

where the teachers rules ment nothing,

nothing

to me and I broke them over and over and over,

all the while moving ahead of my friends and classmates,

I could read full sentances and chapters of old english

way before they could

and I was writing sonnets and love poems

before they could ever begin to fathom the depths of high school love.

I grew up before they could even form one cohesive thought.

I've been called "normal" by some,

but what is normal?

and do I really fit that category?

How many of you were righting on the inside of your mother's womb

and leaving messages for the little siblings you knew would follow after?

And while my peers spend their time trying to understand each other,

I am trying to understand the world.

I mean seriously?

why are teachers paid so little and treated like nobodies?
because people must notice that the sombodies would be "nobodies" too

if it wasn't for them.

and what about this racial prejudice and hate of anyone whose different?

don't tell me that it doesn't exist anymore,

look around you.

Terrorist jokes?

Gay intolerence?

Political assassination?
people have views and they show it,

but is the way they do it really necessary?

and then people call me insane because I question society.

Well I have a word for you,

you nonrespectful, hating, prejudiced, animals

acceptance.

And I don't understand why or how or when,

all I know is that all this time I have been putting these thoughts on paper

and fighting for what I believe in.

I think my mother was wrong,

I never kicked in her womb

because I was too busy writing and chucking unfinished notebooks

in pure fustration.

______________________________

yep a new poem, at last!!! :)

i just wrote this on a whim, no thought or anything behind it really

hope you liked it :)

~AT

To The Writers (Keep On Writing My Friends)

"I love it when I can watch my writing flow across the page

like a never ending waterfall

creating colorful rainbows of imagination

& pure blissful images of beautiful skies and fields at dusk

on a late summer's night."

i.

Writing is about so much more than what people believe it to be,

it is imagination and cutting all the way to your very core,

spilling out your deepest secrets and darkest desires

in a way that is so uncomprehensable to anyone

but those who share a place in this world where reality doesn't exist

and everything is beautiful,

you only have to find it and then write like a demon-possessed lunatic

(except it is good possession and lunacy,

because writers are anything but sane and that is a good thing,

sanity is so boring)

ii.

Believe and Imagine and write it all down

because your thoughts are valuable and your opinions are priceless.

iii.

Let those coffee stained notebooks be your life

because there is nothing better than to bringing a character into existance

who is your best friend and witnessing them defeat all odds

because writing the story is just as much fun as reading it,

you just have to pick up a pen and let it flow

(you never know what might emerge)

iv.

Writing can teach you things about yourself and life

that nothing else could teach you because the answers you seek

are always inside and by releasing it onto the paper you are letting yourself free

and paving the way for others behind you to reach into themselves,

the discovery is the best part.

v.

And there is nothing like sitting back after you've written a particularly excellent piece

and feeling the pride spread through your whole body,

leaving a pleasent feeling of purpose and happiness,

nothing can make a person happier than seeing their work on paper

that the whole world can read to better understand their thoughts and dreams and desires

because writing opens a window to your soul.

So my friends I urge you to keep writing and never stop

because I can garuntee that you won't regret it,

writing is a part of everyone,

you only have to take the leap

and pour yourself onto paper,

a true masterpiece will form before your very eyes.

________________________

i wrote this piece to inspire people to write, i hope it works :) (there wasn't really any more of a story behind it than that)

~AT

Inexperienced Lover

so i know that i never say anything before the poem that i'm posting, but i feel like i owe you guys the reason for why i haven't been posting that often so you don't think that i'm abandoning you.  

school- midterms are coming up and so are sign ups for next year classes, i am also starting to get college stuff and am trying to keep my grades up for a potential scholarship

life- just recently Kace asked me out and so i have been dating him for about a week now, he is amazing and awesomely cool AND i am in the process of getting the book i wrote published as well as writing another book (not related to the one i just wrote, totally different plot)

sports- i was placed on varsity for the nordic ski team at school and so i have been training hard to stay on varsity (i have a race tomorrow) 

sooo i have been VERY busy, as you can tell and i haven't had much time to even write, which was killing me, and i apologize profusely. please forgive me!!!

(the poem is something i wrote about Kace and i - there will be a lot of sappy love poems in the coming weeks, i promise, but i will still spice it up with other types of my poems and maybe some excerpts from my book/the book i am writing now)

These feelings are so strange and foreign;

pounding hearts,

beating in unison

as you hold me to you and whisper in my ear

and I wonder if you can feeling my heart pound

ten times faster with longing for this moment

that will last forever.

 

I've never felt this way before,

I am so small and inexpierienced compared to you,

with 2 years more experience than me

and you still take it slowly for me ,

I can tell that you love me just as much as I love you

and I can feel how our hands fit together perfectly,

like puzzle pieces,

reunited at last.

 

All I can think about is you when your not there

and all I can think about is you when you are,

you are perfect

and understand my fear of taking it one step farther,

I'm terrified of kissing you,

but I want it so bad

and I long to get rid of this irrational fear

because I know you won't judge me

and that you will still love me just as much as now.

 

You have changed me so much;

making me fear these foreign emotions

because I never knew someone who mattered that much

and you convinced me to go to the dance in the end of January,

I can't wait to go now

and have my princess moment that I have longed for,

you don't realize how much I hate dances,

but I love you and will go,

if only for you.

 

I want our first kiss to be at the dance,

it seems just fitting for us because you waited for me

for months

until my parents met you and got to know you,

finally giving their approval

and then you asked me out and I said yes,

I stuttered and you didn't care.

 

I can't believe how much I still need to learn

and you are the perfect teacher,

before you I was afraid to try things that couldn't be described in words

and you have opened my eyes to a whole new world

that I never could see before,

I want this to last forever and ever

because you are amazing and I love you more than any other.

 

You let me be me and you still are yourself

and I appreciate that so much more than you will ever know

because you don't rush me and that means the world to me.

 

♥ ♥ ♥

 

~AT

There and Back Again

wow it seems like forever since i last posted something even remotely writing like so here is a piece that i think you might enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seems like it has been forever since my fingers

flew across the keyboard letters,

bringing a true master piece into existance.

It's been so very long since I let my thoughts play out

onto a new page and then share it to the world,

it has been so long.

 

I have written so many words in the month of December

and it seems as though I may never write again,

but you can never,

EVER,

lose something that is such a great part of you

that it is what gets you through boring days and tough times.

 

It has been so long since I embraced the words,

struggling to get out,

burning to get out,

as I have once said in a poem that I wrote

what seems like ages ago.

 

In only a month I am different now,

changed,

a writer who has accomplished NaNoWriMo her first time

and a bisexual teen who has come out to her friends.

In only a month I have changed from a shy girl

who hid my feelings for fear that I would be trampled

and broken all over again,

to a girl who isn't afraid to be herself

and will gladly say what's on her mind.

 

I can change so much in such a short time,

but it seems as though it is not appropriately measured

because I measure my progress

through the change in the flow and the words

of my writing.

 

It has been so long since I poured my heart onto a page

for a total stranger to read,

but there is a comfort in it.

______________________________________

so there is a writing piece (finally)! :) 

how were your Christmases this year? mine was pretty great because it was also marking 3 weeks since i last cut myself :) i got some cool stuff and i got to see myself in published form!!

it was pretty exciting and right now i am reading it (it is my nano novel from this year) it isn't sold to the public, its just a proof copy and i have the only copy that will ever be made and sold sorry! maybe next year i will open it up to the general public. i also got this really cool caligraphy set from my almost boyfriend (if he doesn't ask me out in the next month i am going to go out with Lindsay - yes a girl, i am bisexual)

much love all!

~AT

Identical Twins - Oh So Different

I have two eyes,

two bright blue-grey eyes that show me everything I want to see,

and everything I don't.

 

These eyes give me grounds for opinions and imaginings

they give me a drive for artistic talent

and written words,

they are my foundation and I see through them in ways

that nobody else could.

 

I have two eyes,

both the same color and both the same size and shape,

they are identical twins,

but they see oh so differently.

 

Through one I see myself as

African American and Irish and Scottish and Native American and English,

I see myself as all of the races and ethnicities in this

oh so wide world

and through my other eye I see myself as

white and read headed and skinny and pretty,

everything that society and the world has taught me to see.

 

Together my eyes produce an image of me

that no one else could replicate,

I am the whole world mixed into one person

over decades of love and marriage and babies

and racial prejudice.

 

My relatives saw through their eyes the world

but the world didn't see them,

they weren't equals because they were different

in skin color and origins and riches and power,

but I see them all reflected in me,

their stories and history brought down through the ages

to this moment and this person,

and I can see it all with my two eyes,

identical twins,

but oh so different interpretations of the world around them.

________________________________________________

 

this just kinda came to me suddenly and i just had to write it down.

hope you liked it :)