I once felt poetry was only for the weary
I felt I was never creative enough to come up with a strand of words that was ever so catchy and ever so sweet
I felt I could never stand in front of a crowd and express how I felt
But when I wrote this small string of words, I was not focusing on just how nicely they melted together or just how wrongly they developed
Instead I focused on letting my pen hit the page and realized a rhythm will follow
And bring the following words to the page
The thoughts come so fast in my head I simply cannot keep up
And with that I have to switch to my computer
But my fingers can only type so fast
Like my lungs can only breathe so many breaths
And I’m nervous I will selfishly waste them and my thoughts will not be wisely spent
So I fear that this string of words was not nearly as important as the next text I sent: the one that said I love you to that perfectly unselfish boy
And I fear that this string of words was not nearly as thoughtful as the letter that my aunt once wrote: where she said that she never once saw a person merely as strong as my grandfather who had fallen to cancer
And I fear that this string of words was not nearly as urgent as the quick, sharp scratches of the pen against a cheap piece of paper that the homeless man was drawing sketches of horses on to sell in hopes of making enough money to buy himself a hot meal instead of relying on strangers for help
And I fear that this string of words won’t be enough to show my gratitude to those all around me. To my family, to my friends and to my future. I hope I can make you proud.
Because I’m starting to worry that I will never work as hard as that homeless man once did, or I will never express my gratitude to family like my aunt once did and I will never know how true those feelings are reflected through that text that I sent.
And I hope I can make you all proud and I hope I can live up to society’s standards because what I once thought was right no longer applies and what I once believed in no longer stands planted firmly in place.
And I’ll end this here, simply as an, I don’t know factor. I don’t know where I’ll be in 10 years or if I’ll be with that first boy who I told that I’d loved or if I’ll ever cross paths with that man in South Kensington with the ragged gloves and endless courage or if I’ll ever be as remarkable as my aunt.
I find myself focusing in on people and on things that I may never reach. I find my mind wandering at night when it should be resting and should be rejuvenating. I find my feet fidgeting and my fists clenching, trying not to let my fears win. Trying not to let the dryness in my throat take away from how far my voice travels and how my voice can project.
I shouldn’t be worrying quite this late, I should be dreaming and following that winding path.
But dreams only last for a night. And a night is shorter than anything I want to experience.
It’s unfortunate in that light, the thought that it can come and go so quickly.
A yawn sets in and I’m letting the tired win.
But when I wake what will I remember and what will I see?
I can always dream of others around me- my aunt, my first love, my courageous friend. But when will I actually see them again and feel their touch and shadow their movements. When will it all end and when does it only just begin? I’m nineteen years old and it’s so frightening,
Ive lost track of my words and thoughts in my head
Simply because they scare me and I no longer want to dream of my future but simply cherish the moments I have now. We have so little time to enjoy life and enjoy those moments given to us to spend with others.
And with that I leave you to think about the depth of this world and the depth of gratitude I have for all of you whom I’ve just shared some of my most disruptive thoughts with, as choppy as they were. Organization is not necessarily a quality that I seem to possess.
I’m coming to terms with the fact that my body is never going to be that perfect beach body that is pictured in magazines and posted all over instagram. That’s just not how my body seems to work, and I’m starting to be okay with that. I’m starting to like my curves. I’m realizing that simply being “skinny” is not necessarily as important as it used to be. Curves are attractive and add to my individualism. I’ll keep pushing myself to maintain a healthy lifestyle, but no matter how much work I put in, my curves are not going to disappear. Since coming home from London in December, I’ve lost 8 pounds. While this may not seem like a lot, coming from a 5’2” girl, it is a noticeable amount. I’m nowhere near finished with my journey, yet I feel it’s important to celebrate the completion of a mini goal of mine… being under that 140 lb mark! My goal, no matter how long it takes me, is to be about 130 pounds and I’m already well on my way. Cheers to being comfortable in my own body again.
How I wish I were in your arms, tonight and every night that follows.
New cover posted @ http://m.soundcloud.com/lauren-bodin/radiowithout-you-lana-del-rey-cover. Thanks @dillonsalk for all the help!!
What do you consider as the top three most important features in a music venue?
What are some strengths and weaknesses of the local venues in your area?
What is your favorite venue and why?
The pressure is on. Now I need to start focusing and learning every aspect and detail there is to know. Making connections and staying hungry to learn.
My boyfriend looks like Brendon Urie from Panic At The Disco! and it’s the greatest thing ever
Say Something Cover by A Great Big World
My cover of Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey!