Now you see me

I pictured this revealing as an ending. But actually introductions are always how stories begin. And it's been raining all day. Washing away all the lies and uncovering all the hiding spots. And I've been thinking how it's making things clear. 

We've learned we're all just the same. With broken hearts and big dreams. Wanting to be real and thinking step one was to hide. And we're all wrong.

Cause step one is bravery. 

It is okay that you're broken. and mad. and fell into love. and sad. and lonely. And hurt. And scared. And dreaming. 

Paris has been whispering it all along. And just because it's time to go and we got a new destination listed on our plane ticket doesn't mean we have to forget the voice,

This is for you... 

Have you found you? 

To Paris: 

Thanks for sparking in us the dream. For helping us find the courage to finally start the beginning of the story. 

It starts out with an introduction:

Ashley Martin 

Its been in my pocket

I remember the Christmas in July's we created.
Maybe we were a little selfish and just wanted gifts more often.maybe. No yeah that's why.
I also remember still being friends, which feels like a whole life ago.

I remember all of us being out too late every night that summer, the cops knew us as the "usuals"
I remember we'd talk about things that couldn't be made sense of, the questions that didn't have answers. And I bet you remember I always got mad those nights because I wanted the answers.

Like why you had to push her away. I hope you know you broke her heart.

I remember the sorrys I wished you'd say every time it got a little rainy (which was all too often) but I just ended up telling myself them.
I remember the promise you made about taking me on your roof to watch the sunset.
I remember knowing it wouldn't actually happen.

I remember when sluffing school got you the label of "rebel" and the moms talking, "don't be hanging with that girl, that kind of influence is not good for you."
I remember when we use to hand out valentine cards to eveyone in class, where now we're stuck waiting for a love that doesn't appear every 14th,
I remember thinking I still had time. And the regret that came shortly after.
I remember where you sat. Front row, 3 over.
I remember treat Friday. Terrible thursday 5th grade worksheets.

I remember when the 5$ we made from our lemonade stand made us feel so accomplished and rich. Although we'd split it, 2 dollars and 2 quarters still felt like you got the whole world in your pocket.

I remember your suburban how you parked on the side of the road in the canyon. You sang to me with your eyes looking down I knew cause mine were locked on you. You told me I had to pick 2 of 3 to tell you. So I picked 1 and made all 3 about you.

I remember thinking my act score didn't matter. Surprise to me: it does, here's to no scholarship. Congrats, let's celebrate.

I remember your face that day you saw everyone jump out and yell happy birthday. You had tears in your eyes and never did you cry.

I remember....
because how could I forget.
They've been in my pocket for 17 years.

b&w

I can remember still the exact room because I recognize my heart that's spilled out

all over the floor. 

I tried cleaning it up the last time I visited but I think it just made the stain bigger.

A little lost and broken. the best are.

I haven't seen it for a while now.

I haven't seen you for a while now.

I can't be too surprised it's fairly stubborn  when told what to do. And shoot, blame the head, send it on a train to nowhere. 17 years of being locked into a cage is a long time, it's bound to break out and leave one day. So here's my little flyer hung on every street corner and light post:

"lost heart" 

Please return if found.

P.s. Handle with care-extremely fragile. 

I would of given a reward, a million pieces glued into the best heart shape I could manage to make.

But no one wants a half working heart anyways. 

So here's to you heart,

Know I've been missing you. Sorry for all the times I didn't respond when you'd scream through my chest, I'm feeling the pain of ignoring you now. And late is better than never. 

Understand I've been curious these past 6, 379 days what it would be like if I lived with you making every decision. It's ok you've been selfish and wanted that. 

I'd let you be selfish. Because I love you.

All your broken pieces and all. 

I know you think you need everyone to love you but I need you to come back.  I'll make you realize one person is enough. The gift of life you gave to me, and I've never gotten a better gift. 

If you find him, 

Which I suppose already you've went and visited him...

It's ok I'm not mad, just ask for the rest of your pieces back. Don't be shy, you deserve them. 

I'll help you use up the rest of the glue. 

& sometimes nature stings

It wasn't predicted that it'd rain today.

But I grabbed my boots anyway, because when it comes to you there's always a slight chance.  
I painted my nails red that whole year because it reminded me of you. what you were.

Danger.

But you always looked nice.

I'm not pretending though that I don't know you're a tornado. You know exactly what your doing, spinning me in circles 

Round and

Round and

Round.

And I've seemed to have lost everything I thought I knew. And I didn't think letting you in gave you permission to move me.

You're the leaves in the fall. And those days are always cold. Different pieces of you getting blown away from me little by little everyday.

Don't deny it. I can feel you leaving.

And I'm running outside in panicks screaming your name. trying to collect all of your pieces, gathering them all in a pile.
Cause when you come back I want to be the one you can count on to help you find yourself.

I bet you forgot I told you I was here though. 

Who can blame you, its not like I was ever on your list to kiss.

And

I,

you,

and

we,

all know nothing except that is ever on your mind, is it.

Ya see baby, now you've got me gettin' cold.

Cause we're talking about your heart.

And I bet my last breath, the doctors are looking everywhere for you. You've got so many hearts that you've stolen. I know from experience, not one gave them to you with permission. And maybe someone forgot to mention to you,

I needed that heartbeat to have that breath. 

But you stole that away too.

So I'm left here swallowing the tears that I keep telling everyone is rain drops. Laying in all the pieces of you.

and I've been wondering if I still want to remember what your smile looks like.

I've come to the conclusion you've left

 these pieces behind for me to remember you by.

and I hope you don't expect a thank you.

Cause it's colder than I imagined just laying here.

I thought maybe the sunsets would bring me the warmth. We use to just watch them, cherishing every full minute.

Because we understood how quickly they got bright and how shortly they stayed around to be seen and enjoyed.

And I never thought I'd be relating this to you.

 but yet again

Watching the sunset is like watching our ending.

You always said,

the many different bright colors fading out sealed the deal of "happily ever after" within a day. 

But at the end of it, all I feel is cold, dark and sad. 

And maybe this is all the imagery of what coming to a real ending feels and looks like. 
And all I can say is...

I can't wait for the night to stop raining.

for the sunrise to come.

it was cold & the feeling was numb.

death...well its a lot of things.
Its grief, pain, and sorrow.
its the

"I was suppose to see them tomorrow"

and the

"I'll never forget, because I will always love them."

Its the broken hearts, the 1 missed call on the answering machine and the flowers left on the porch.

 

 

 

We say hate and death are the opposite of love and life.

but oh how they remind eachother of eachother.

They're so much alike, just as love cannot be explained or written or told or expressed
neither can death.
Death is personal. Death is not the end of living. or the end of loving.
despite what this horrible sickening world tells you.

These things live within you, these people are loved by you.

Don't let this world make you cold.

 If there is something I know both you and I can conquer, it is the inability to see the numb.

Surely you have a fire inside of you for the purpose of warming others.

Although it is cold, don't let death make your fire go out.

 

 

I'm scared of the possibilites and of the unknown

Fear controls me.
Making me who I am
And who I'm not.
But I can't hate that even though I don't like writing it, because its one of the elements that has made up the parts of me that I am.

I'm afraid of being alone. Of losing my best friend.
I'm afraid of having kids. Also not having kids.
I'm afraid of someone saying "I love you, I'm just not
in love with you anymore."

I'm afraid of small talk because I'd rather just skip to the part where you tell me your life is not easy and neither is mine and sure the weather is important sort of but your feelings are of more worth to me. I'm afraid of them not liking me, because I'm too hard on myself to be great 25/8 and I don't want to disappoint you. Because I'm also afraid of what that face looks like. I'm afraid of confrontation and fighting. I don't want to lose you.

I'm afraid of making decisions and change. Because with both of those things I have only a 50% chance of something good going right. and all my life they've taught me 50/100 was failing.

It sounds silly and so many can't understand. But...
I'm afraid of not making enough memories. Of not "living life" enough or fully because they just keep telling me life goes by so fast, and one day you'll wake up and you've lived your whole life. And that scares me, I don't want to look back and realize I lived the same year 75 times.

And contrary to what I previously just said, in that life, I'm afraid of the start of things and I'm afraid of the end of things.
(I know please don't laugh, I'm very much indeed a difficult case)
Afraid of graduating because that's the end of something. And afraid of college/life after high school because that's the start of something.

BECAUSE: hellos take courage and so do goodbyes.

And honey please do not tell me fear is just a feeling and I can get over it. Indeed I should accept the fact that there is both beautiful and terrible things in this world. 
but I'm fearful of the light and the dark. Because I cant get myself to trust the unknown.

So maybe I'm lacking everything in bravery. But I checked my report card and in the subject of "FEAR"
I have an A.








I hope to have an A in bravery too...

someday.

Here's to hoping

And I want you to care.
Want you to notice.
Scream cry yell punch. Anything.
I want you to feel something, DO soommeethhinng (you've been so numb) and this is how I'm feeling and I've been thinking for Christmas I want a punching bag cause I got a lot of emotions. Of pain and dissapointment and sadness and I'm not sure how to express that without silently letting it erupt within me.

But each day I wait cause everyday is a second chance and a new day (so we say) so I wait for a sound. Even if it's not what I've been wanting to hear. But nothing seems to show...
Because feelings are the gum under the desk. Annoying, disgusting, and in the wrong places.
And I want to say I hate you while saying I love you. I'm so emotionally exhausted.
Because do you even see my effort?
Let me give

Give


Give



Give.
Draining all of myself.
For you and having to fill myself up again. and again. and again. because you haven't been there. It's creating holes in my bucket to the point where I can't fill myself up all the way now without most of it draining out. And its getting so heavy and I need you to care. To tape the holes shut and make me fill full again. Help lift it up. Help lift me up.


Oh but it's getting so exhausting.






Hoping.

traffic in the sky

and they should really invest in getting street lights

and stop signs

cause it's getting awfully busy up with the clouds.

 

 

I'm looking up,  pulling myself up there,

we all are.

our hearts, eyes, and minds

you'll find them there here.

 

 

That's why its so busy.

 

 

He says I'm wasting my time,

"Stop daydreaming."

 and

 "Get your head outta the sky."

 

 

But he's a hypocrite. He's up here too.

Everyone is.

 

We all think "this place is our own."

Yet we're all really sharing it and that's how we're all able to connect down below.

 

But it's difficult to do so.

 

Sharing my place...filled with the heart, eyes, and mind of my ever being.

 

 

There's traffic in the sky and it's clouding up my vision.

 

but we're all just gonna have to make room,

 cause I like it up here best.

 

 

here layed a self made kid

 

indeed she is perfect. jussttt a little bit out of her mind.
you missed it.
lets list it.
- .....
nah nah nah lets just stop there.
                       
cause you care about being different....

 

       And im trying to be different.

<be different>

>eb tnereffid<

 

 

 

But I'm not a poet nor writer. no matter how badly my heart longs for the words as well as my hands waiting for that moment to burst with the energy of magically writing something

great. I haven't found that label that everyone's got. 

kreate-eve

am i unable?

probably.

 

let me inspire you, would you? I'd like to.

Here's the lesson taught to the kid.

just because your mom told you were great doesn't mean that you really are. silly boy.

Let me tell you who does. Your peers and your fears.

Because of course they're the ones who want the success for you, sees that potential that's inside of you. not mom.

 I want to be gold but they're telling me I'm bronze. And when did colors depict value. And all this because I wanted to be all the colors you could name or see and more so. I decided right then,

I'd be a self made kid.

 

Good vibes

List of my favorites:

Sunday canyon drives 
Leaves changing in the fall
Ice cream cones on the beach 
New pair of shoes 
Singing in the car with the windows down
Summer nights at a carnival 
Hot chocolate cuddled up by a fire
Your favorite movie with a good cuddler
Small loving notes & gifts left on doorsteps 
A good book in a hammock 
Running in a rain storm
Late night deep talks 
Homemade grilled cheese with tomato soup
Sun beating down on your skin 
Picking flowers 
Combat boots with your coziest sweater 
Being called "pretty girl"
Kisses from the cousins 
Piggyback rides 
Camp fires
Rooftop late night talks
Sneaking out

 

 

Brick

Brick. Alright. Where's the inspiration. Obviously I've put this off to the last day, no no no. Not for what you think though. I'm not a procrastinator?? (I am sarcastic though) I just really wanted to wait and save up all my inspiration and write soemthing really good. Something people would read and be like wow. And this was just suppose to be about a brick ????

But yeah...still got nothing.

I mean what is there even to say about a brick? It does like one thing but I guess if you get all weirdly creative you can come up with more things that it does. But to most people bricks: they're useless except for one thing. Building houses. 

Maybe though soemthing you haven't thought about is how this relates to you. Most people... they think the same about themselves. That they're useless. "What can I do that's even important and people actually care about." I just do what I'm build to do. But that's nothing extraordinary is it?

I mean sure a brick is just a brick. It's true. It's nothing really too special or different or outstanding. 

But look at what it can create. Focus on what it becomes. 

Maybe we can relate to this and do the same. 

Or maybe we don't and we just get to cross off our to do list:

"write a blogpost about a brick." 

1,000,000

A million things I gotta do. 

lists 
lists 
lists. 
A million chances.

take

take 

take.

A million places I want to go. 

see

see

see.

A million people.

meet 

meet 

meet.

A million breaths. 

inhale 

exhale

inhale. 

And people wonder why I stress so much.