<New Moon: I watch the moon as I drive through the stret. Like an unblinking eye, there’s so much wonder to be found. Yet so eerily creepy. I couldn’t help but watch as it tranced me. Through the wispy clouds I think, “Wonder who else is looking up?”>

<Storm: Warm, gray, I held you tight. I remember the bow you had. I remember the nights of thunderstorms and pouring rain. I miss you Storm, my little teddy bear, I miss you as I sleep at night without a hint to where you are now.>

got it. there aren’t going to be capital letters while i eat so just saying. mustard and catsup. catsup i wonder why it’s called that. I took a personality test a while ago. it seems- oh, found out why some ketchup is called catsup: cuz catsup is spicier. Learned something new today.

Now, um, you know I dont think a lot of people will read this but oh well, I like writing. ^^ As you can see the capital letters, I’m done eating. Yay.

This may be wird but I don’t know how you will react. Okay, now I have a theory. I have a theory to why people cry in class. You’ve at least had one or maybe heard of somebody crying in class. Well, when you were younger, you or somebody else tried to hide them crying -if they didn’t well, I’ll get to that- it’s because they were embarrassed or think it’s bad to cry, because at some point of your childhood before school, you were told to stop crying forcefully by somebody older or admired. Dose that make sense?  When I felt like crying in class -I had recently gone through a short depression, which was broken when I talked to a very close friend- I kept thinking about the times I cried in class, ow I would lie about the reason I was crying. I thought, “Why are you going to cry? You trying to get attention, you’re just being greedy, cry only when you mean it.” I was beginning to get mad at myself. Why was  I going to cry? I didn’t. I thought, people will think that you’re just trying to get attention, and then I thought, or they would be scared. When ever consoling somebody you sometimes leave them alone because you feel helpless to help, you care but you can’t get through to them. I think, that half is also pride to not cry or lie about crying.

Now, when you feel like somebody’s tears aren’t real, think about it. Not the what they did, the why. Why would they do that? Make a scene? Make a sobby story? Why is the question. Sometimes, it’s just to get closer to somebody, or get forgiveness. But mostly, I think it’s attention, when somebody feels so isolated that they must humiliate themselves to have people around them. Just another theory.

*Maybe I’ll title these Blogs with the poem title.

<Caramel Apple: Caramel sticks to my mouth, I like it off. So sweet. I love the apple’s taste. Sweeter. My mouth gets sticky, uncomfortable, but still in a way very nice. Sweet juices of the Candy apple. Now we’re leaving, I wish I had gotten another candy apple. Maybe next time, you can finally see those Candy Apples.>

Wow, it’s weird. My English teachers are awesome -both of them came from my elementary- and I think my current one is more normal than any of the teachers I have had. Huh. 

…okay, so i’m going to try and do this: write some poetry at the end of each blog. Just because I want to. ^^ and because I have no life, haha. 

<^> From these promises you made, I see you in a light. You’re very kind. You’re very fun. You’re very exciting. You care. You know me so well. You have everything I want. You’re the best. As I sit here on the front porch waiting with my suitcase, I think, my face toward the empty street, ”You must have forgot.”