Drafts of the Insomniac

I can't even really believe I'm writing this. Not that blogging is bad at all. I just wouldn't have even thought I would have time to do anything besides school work. Maybe this is just a ghost post. One that no one will ever read because I'm pretty sure there is no one that checks my blog anymore to see if I post. I was horrible at posting in the class so why would I post after? I'm not sure. Maybe I just need to vent. Here goes nothing. To whomever may come across this post, First, I want to start by thanking you. I don't know if you came across this blog by accident or whether you came wanting me to give something to you to relate to. I'm not even really sure why I am here in the first place so maybe we came searching for the same thing. To feel. Two days ago. Monday. September 28, 2015. The day I said goodbye to my best friend in the world. Jacob Steven Finch. Elder Finch. It has been so hard for me to say goodbye to the only life I have e

I'm not sure whether or not I want to actually post this. I'm afraid that people will see me differently than they do now. I don't want that. Or maybe I do. I'm still just trying to figure out who I am as a person and people expect me to be applying for college and leave everything for 2 years and get good grades and keep a job and be kind to everyone and I just don't feel there is enough time for everything. I don't want this to sound like I'm revealing my pen name, but here goes nothing. My name is Tanner Johanson. I was almost named Dylan, but my parents decided to switch at the last second. I've always been quiet until you get to know me. I don't have very much self confidence, but I barely make it by with what I got. I feel more pressure than is needed. I don't like school, but I tell people to go there and learn as much as possible. I tutor, yet I don't do my own homework. My actions and words are pretty hypocritical and I hate that

There is a girl who sits in our creative writing class. She has green eyes and bruised knees . She understands what a broken heart is and how it can be fixed. She knows the meaning of being real. She really knows how to connect with others and she knows how to write her heart. She is a girl with an impressive mind and I think everyone should have a chance to talk with this girl. This girl is named Kailee. I've only talked with Kailee a few times, but she has always been very kind. Her blog is just as impressive as herself. In my opinion, her blog, Navy Skye , is one of the best blogs in the class. Her writing is real and she is 100% artist. Her blog is something that is very beautiful and anyone who says she isn't anything less than a great writer is just jealous. Some of my favorite quotes I liked from her blog: "A gap toothed, freckled nose, green eyed face with a voice so quiet she believed no one could hear her, but God did." "Beca

These are my Top 5 favorite songs with reasons why. Please don't judge me or anything when you read this. Don't Let Me Fall - B.o.B Song that made me fall in love with rap I know all the words I connect with the lyrics Colder Weather -  Zac Brown Band His voice makes me cry I get nostalgic The line "I could smell your perfume through these whispering pines" is one of the most beautiful lines I've ever heard. And I'm not sure why. Fallin' - Trip Lee Rap about God and how he will lift us up when we need him Got me into Christian Rap I get chills when I hear the last two verses Open Letter - KB Again, raps about God Tells a story Relatable lyrics Closer To Love - Mat Kearney Have you ever heard his voice?? The instruments used make it sound so great I am in love with love songs These are my top 5 at the moment, even though my top 5 always changes for everything.

First off, this post may or may not be an apology post. I'm not sure what it really is yet, but I guess we will find out as I write. I want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't go home and write a post on the day that Mr. Nelson got mad at us all for not posting. I'm sorry I've been a freakin tourist. I was a teacher-aide for Mr. Nelson last year and every single day, I would tell myself I would be a full on artist. I haven't been doing that. I'm sorry I haven't been posting on the blogs or commenting or participated much in class. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that one of my biggest fears is being the center of attention and I'm sorry I'm such a coward. This room might be a nest, but I don't even feel comfortable at home. I'm sorry, Mr. Nelson, that I have not always been fully invested in the class. I'm sorry to all the kids in the class that have been trying to get me to participate. Some days I would just rather br

Here we are again. New semester, new classes, new teachers. Same faces. And with only a semester of school left, this will be it. No more new classes. No posting schedules on Instagram or Facebook with the caption of "Any classes anyone???" This is it. For all the Dallin Ferrels, Jake Ervings, and Ben Clarks. It's time to fight on and reach our peak. Or so we have been told for the last three years of our lives. And for the first two years, I have just been getting by. I do not know what would have happened if I hadn't taken Mr. Nelson's class in 10th grade. That class was where I felt alive in one of the deadest places in all of Utah valley from 7:45 to 2:15 on Mondays to Fridays. If I hadn't taken that class, I probably wouldn't have been in Creative Writing and not have been in this class. If I were to map out my high school life for you all, you all would see things that may make some of you cry. But then again, maybe not. I was never a football or

For my book, I read 13 Reason Why. It was a good book, I really enjoyed it, and I did not see THAT coming. I don't really know what to write about because I feel like I would be giving it away. I guess I will give you a basic premise of the book. And when I say that, I really just mean that I will copy what the back of the book says. Clay Jensen doesn't want anything to do with the tapes Hannah Baker made. Hannah is dead. Her secrets should be buried with her.           Then Hannah's voice tells Clay that his name is on her tapes - and that he is, in some way, responsible for her death.           All through the night, Clay keeps listening. He follows Hannah's recorded words throughout his small town. . .           . . . and what he discovers changes his life forever. The reason I chose this book, is because Mr. Lassen from Timberline said it was a good book. So I finally had the chance to read it. I would recommend this book to all who read and all who don&#