Drafts of the Insomniac

I guess this is it. No more pen names. No more guessing and surprises. No more masks. This is the real me. If you really knew me, you would know that I love rap music. It's not just my favorite music. It's basically my life. When I'm driving, when I'm showering, when I'm laying in bed at nights and in the mornings when I'm too lazy to get up for school. Some say rap isn't music, but it freakin is. Just ask Nelson. If you really knew me, you would know I would do anything for anyone. Which is ironic because people say I'm nice but I don't believe them. If you really knew me, you would know that I feel so inadequate about so many different things about myself. My writing, hair, eyes, clothes, voice, glasses. Basically everything about myself. I have a job. I tutor kids. I started doing it because I am a high school student and I need money. But over the months I've tutored, the best reward is helping others unde

I remember saying hi to the new kid. I remember he told me he didn't want to be my friend. I remember jumping on the trampoline with him and her and her and him and her. I remember hiding from piano lessons. I remember falling asleep in my closet because I had to escape everything. I remember my Barney and Sully stuffed animals. I remember playing a really cool game at his house. I remember becoming addicted to that game. I remember the first time I thought I deserved it. I remember when no one stuck up for me. I pretended like it didn't happen. I remember being told I was weird because I hardly talked. I remember being told to type 801 on a phone because it was a new rule. I remember his phone number. I remember crying when I first saw my dad cry. I didn't know my grandpa passed away. I remember not being able to remember my times tables. I remember my teacher telling me it was easy and I felt stupid. I remember the song, but I don't

"A disproportionate rare print would be fantastically addicting and everyone would want one"   "Death is back."

I guess I am supposed to write about my heart. But I'm afraid of what my heart has to say. I'm fearful to write this post because I truly do mean the words I am typing on the screen. I do not know exactly what my heart wants to say. Not this week. Not any week. I feel like I do the exact same thing every week. But I don't know any other way. I sit at my computer and stare at the screen for a few hours because I want to make my writing good. I want people to comment and tell me its really good and I want Nelson to put it in the top five. I have been told a few times that my writing is good. And I do truly believe that there are some people who think my writing is good. But overall, I feel like it is my heart I try to impress most often. I write and write and write and I feel like the more I write, the more unimpressed I am with myself. I don't feel adequate enough for myself. And because of that, I don't feel adequate enough for the class or for Nelson or my pare

"There's a spirit in Montana and in your chest,  a note. That rings out like the bells of  cathedrals rung by the village scapegoat." "Montana" - Youth Lagoon With the class, I sat down at the pond. I closed my eyes and let my other senses do the seeing. I heard cars and ducks. Smelled the pond water. I felt the crisp air on my hands and on my face. The air tasted clean. Nature has a most beautiful spirit about it. It's so wonderful that St. Nick is jealous. Nature also has a dream. It's dream is to provide life and beauty and feelings and inspiration. I used to dream of becoming a hero. One that everyone would adore. I would be rich and people would want my autograph. Well, I don't know if my motives have changed or if I have changed. But I'm pretty sure it's for the better.  My dream has become a dream that will make me happy. It will come by making other people happy. My dream is to help others fulfill theirs. A dream for world

"Something touched me deep inside, the day the music died" ~Don McLean I remember the day the music died. It was a rainy day and my grandpa's casket was falling six feet deep into the ground. The ground that now held broken heart shards and tears. My dad told me that duct tape and a sharpie can fix just about anything. But a life is not one of those things. While the soldiers were in Germany worryied about making it to the end and living to see their families, people were drinking and partying. Wasting their lives away, not knowing that over 6 million innocent people are being martyred for believing in their God. The ignorance of the human race is astounding. I remember the day the music died. It was a rainy day. My mom said we were moving. I was going to have to leave my friend and my second grade crush. I remember the day the music died. It was a rainy day. My grandma's casket fell six feet deep. The ground held more tears and a comple

I'm afraid of this post. I'm afraid of every post. I'm scared people will look at my writing and say it sucks and laugh at it for the wrong reasons. I'm afraid to let my thoughts and feelings flow so freely. I'm afraid to speak in class because I never have the right ideas. I'm afraid to not speak up because answers are wrong and I fear being disliked more than being wrong. I fear I'm becoming a contradiction to myself. I fear losing myself. Mentally, not necessarily physically. I fear going left when I should have gone right. I fear going right when I should have gone left. But now I just have no idea where I'm headed. I'm scared of losing you, and her, and him, and them. I'm scared of losing me. I think I got lost and there are no road signs back home.  The sun may be shining, but it's too dark to put on sunglasses with my eyes.  Being swallowed by the dark emptiness I feel every night when I ca

I want a pug so badly!!!

Let me start out by saying there isn't a formula or a secret recipe to get you through life.  If there was, I would still get the ingredients mixed up. But I don't have the right measurements for the job. And although something may be cooking in the kitchen, it isn't what I was hoping for. I think I may have added too much failure in the mixture and now the ceiling is painted black with smoke and the smell of fire is drowning out the smell of my fresh baked success. The smoke alarm is broken because I got tired of the beeping and smashed it with a baseball bat. I called the fire department but they were busy celebrating a birthday. I wasn't even invited to it. I quickly grab for a bottle of loneliness to quench the fire but the flames are blazing and one bottle won't do much besides irritate the flames. As I render my endeavors useless, I sink to the floor with my head in my hands, accepting full defeat. I can hear the fire crackling and the beams in my h

In no particular order or anything, here you go! (Drum roll please) Hancock Cornelia Boom ivory ellis Navy Skye Eleanor Douglas

I really enjoy this poem, so here you go: Jefferson Bethke- The Greatest Artist Of All Time A guy came up to me the other night, right, and he was like who is your favorite artist, and like most people do when they ask you that, he didn’t really want to listen to what my answer was. And he continued about a struggle to recognize who he said was the greatest of all time. He said, I mean is it Shakespeare, is it Frost, is it Picasso, Michelangelo, is it Rembrandt, Beethoven, Michael Jackson, Justin Bieber. Okay, he didn’t really say that, that part was me, I’m a fan, what can I say. Bieber fever. But he said, whoever is lyrically the strongest, and said, whoever has lived the longest and he went on, and on, and on about who he thought was the greatest, not realizing even his infrastructure to answer that question was misled and outdated. So finally, I kindly smiled and said, okay, sir you asked me who is The Greatest of All Time, now you tried to share yours, so let me share min

Trying to get the attention of that special someone??? Here are some lines that may help you with getting a date!!! So what was it like, falling out of heaven? You don't seem bruised at all. If you were a taser, the entire room would be stunned. Am I dying? You have to know. You're an angel, right? Do you have a bandaid? I scraped my knee when I fell for you. You must be tired because you've been running through my mind all day. Are they LDS because we live in Utah? We have that covered too!!!  I just got off my mission, and I’m looking for my next companion.    Is your name Virtue? Because you’ve been garnishing my thoughts unceasingly.  You seem familiar. Did we meet in the pre-existence?  Guy says: “You know, I’m constantly on a spiritual high.” Girl: “Oh yeah? Why?” Guy: “Because not even Moses got to see a vision every day—and I get to see you.”  Even with the Liahona, I get lost in your eyes.   Are you a Gadianton

My name is not Dorothy, but I am trying to find my way back to Kansas. You know, Kansas. The place where I feel best about myself? Maybe you don't know, but take it from someone who yearns for that place. I wanna go back to those days. If I could, I would take all my friends to see the good me. The me that still believed in invincibility. The me that didn't know that for some people, Santa was a creepy, forty year old that wore a wife beater and got stoned every other day. I want them to see the boy who didn't understand the concept of pain and sadness. The boy who cried because he saw his dad crying, but still didn't understand why. The boy who would laugh and smile all day for no reason other than why not. I want to show my family and my friends and my peers all that I once was. Show them what the real world can do to someone who has absolutely no problem with life. Let me have that frame of mind back. At least for a day. Let me believe in invin

Bloggers I want to be like: Dick Tidrow William Lee Barefield III  Sky Trillion Pleasefindmehere Insolence is Bliss Devastated Daisy Suzy Bishop Jackie O Cornelia Boom I decided to do this every 2 weeks. Maybe my own Top 5 or something.

I remember when my belief in love was completely shattered. My "girlfriend" was my best friend was my biggest support. My parents "loved" me and would do anything for me because they enjoyed being around me. I was told lies of "I love you" and they meant a lot to me, but they ended up meaning as much as salad means to Stanley from The Office. I was lied to about love. How could they harm someone so much? I'm pretty sure that could have been tried for cruel and unusual punishment. My girlfriend was too much for me to handle and even though I was the one to break it off, I'm pretty sure she wasn't too upset about it. I went through a depressing stage in my life and my parents decided to do something about it. Something I never thought they would have done. They sent me to a behavior hospital.  I guess I may be leaving a minor detail out, but that can come out later. I could tell you, but you would probably forget. My parents had decide

I know I'm human because when my mom was making me feel like nothing tonight, I felt something. I was able to feel the loneliness and sadness that I have come to live with so often. I felt my heart bleeding out all the dreams and hopes I've wanted. I asked myself if nothing could be felt. I decided to get back to me after my mom was done getting mad. I came back to myself with an answer. It was yes. What I told me next was something that I would have never expected me to speak of. I told me of a sad story. I told me of a boy who was chasing his dreams on his bicycle and when he was in arms reach, he fell off and broke his leg and arm. He was unable to chase his dreams after that. I asked him what his dream was that he was chasing. He told me it was happiness and although we was temporarily injured, he would catch it one day. I told him that his pursuit of happiness was foolish and that no one can ever be truly happy. He looked me square in the eye and said that only t

It's never too early for Christmas, so... -1 supersonic water slide -1 actual, real pool with sharks, to match the new water slide -1 TV taller than me (or even better, a TV taller than you, mom) -2 trees that grow cinnamon rolls -One lump sum fair market value payment for my manual labor around the house since birth (with interest) -1 dragon the breathes fire -1 dragon that breathes that fire extinguisher stuff -3 meteors taller than me -The smell of Wednesday -1 panacea for an affliction of a cumbersome ideal -My handwriting as a computer font -1 new towel (the non-evil kind) -Hope -New Family -Happiness -Love

This is for the dreamers. For those who love and love, but don't receive any back. This is for the weary. The miles they've ran chasing it like a butterfly. This is for the brokenhearted and downtrodden. This is for the pessimists. This is for the jealous. This is for the nervous. This is for the ones who have never experienced it. Go for i t. You'll never know what'll happen if you don't try.

Growing up scares me. I'm afraid of every aspect of it. I don't think I could handle the stress of bills and taxes and having a job and raising kids and remembering everything that needs to get done and keeping up with football and basketball. More than that, I'll miss being a kid. I'll miss worrying about when the cartoons are on and I'll miss the peace of mind that I received when my Dad told me they didn't start for another 10 minutes. I'll miss watching Disney movies with my family on Sunday nights as I stuff myself with no bake cookies. The cookies never had peanut butter in them. That meant the world to me because I couldn't get down anything that even smelled of peanut butter. What I'm doing now and where I will be in 10 years will all depend on how I think. But go 5 years into the past, and it was all based on passion. If I heard the ice cream man, I wouldn't think, "If I buy ice cream now, I don't think I&

My dad once said I wasn't good enough to make the Lone Peak football team or the Lone Peak basketball team. So I gave up my dreams. My ex once said I would never find someone as good as her. So I gave up my confidence. My classmate once said I wouldn’t amount. So I gave up my hope. All these people told me the same things but with different words. They [the words] cut into my skin and invaded my body. The words have sunk deep into my skull and overtaken my brain. The feeling of no dreams, hope, or confidence creates an abyss in my mind and that chasm grows and has become the size of the grand canyon. I got bad anxiety as I tried to tightrope walk across it to get to the other side where my peace of mind resided. I finally chickened out after 27 long seconds and slowly crawled back to the other side. I was David trying to take down a better David. One with giant friends named Goliath. That's when I decided to try to build a bridge over the pit. M

I'm just an insane human trying to find my Paris. The place I can just call paradise. I tried going to New York , but it's too dirty and noisy. I tried going to To k y o , but I couldn't find any inspiration. I tried going to London , but there were too many tourists. I ended up on a train to Berlin , but I realized I won't be there for a while because there is a stop in Paris . I decided that I should get off and look around Paris. There was a kind man named Harold Miner that I ran into and he wanted to show me around. The scenery was beautiful, the coffee shops were warm and inviting, and I felt different than I had ever felt in my life. So I decided to stay. I used the rest of my money and found a nice little apartment to stay in. I became friends with the coffee shop owner and he would supply me with food and drink until I was able to get going with my money. I want to stay in this place. I want to stay somewhere that I can live and write and be my