Monday, May 2, 2016

Dessert

Maybe my soul’s all right
But my body’s all wrong
Maybe I'm in love 
But I don't really know what love is 
Too many times I've said maybe 
Too many times I've said sorry 

Getting a thread through the needle is the easy part
I don't know how to avoid getting my finger pricked 
I've never fallen into a deep sleep, 
But I wish I would 
I'm too tired
It's hard to love life and the people in it when I don't love myself, 
But I don't hate myself. 
My life isn't horrible but I wish 
I didn't live in the clouds 
And I could taste the fruits of prosperity 
I'm Hannah banana and I bruise inside and out 

I'm familiar with the texture and sound of I'm sorry and I'm used to it, 
And maybe 
Sometimes things make sense, but this poem doesn't. 
Oh well maybe that's how it's suppose to be 
Supposedly things happen for a reason
Maybe God didn’t like the look of my face when he saw it
Sometimes a big dog looks right into it. 

Rn


RN y
rn...my blog post is late...as usual 
I'm thinking about how last night I cried because
I may be graduating but I'm not even finished with education 
i get a 3 month break from essays and homework and studying 
then I'm back to school for FOUR YEARS 
And I still need to take the civics test 
rn it's 8:45 and I forgot to write this poem
rn I'm watching food network, I love watching cupcake wars but....
I mean what happens to the 1,000 losing cupcakes on cupcake wars 
WHERE DO THEY GO 
ARE THEY JUST THROWN AWAY?!
Rn I'm in attendance school, I'm suppose to be doing anything but sleeping
I could be writing but I'm passing notes
rn my sister is mad at me because
I talk about my hatred of uncrustables at least once a day
and
yesterday she tried to tell me about her day but I was singing backstreet boys
and
I smashed chips in her bed
and 
She doesn't want me to leave for college, 
She cries if anyone mentions it
Rn it's 9:00 and I'm procrastinating writing this poem
Rn it's 10:30 and I'm wondering if sol is bothered by my late blog post,
I'm sorry sol
I'm sorry Nelson
I'm sorry everyone 
It's 10:33 (am) and I'm in zoology and I sort of feel inspired so I'm writing 
I had to stop writing because I had to collect leaves
And I think I want to start collecting butterflies 
Maybe 
Rn I'm saying that I'm trying but I think I'm just saying that so 
My parents 
My friends
My teachers
won't pester me about my lack of motivation 
Rn I'm taking homeopathic anxiety medicine that look like moth balls 
I hate the smell of moth balls 
I used to care about a lot of things 
IM SICK OF BEING THE ONE WHO CARES TOO MUCH
because I'm just taken advantage of and taken for granted 
I don't know how to make this transition sentence but 
Nelson tweeted about finishing strong, but I don't think I can even finish this poem, 
Finish this poem
Finish this poem 
Finish this poem
Finish 
Finish 
Fin

This is the throw up story, i think we all have one

so, i told my ghost story in class. its time to tell the throw up story.

does anyone remember the restaurant The Mayan? 
(it's a shame it got closed down, it was a real great place) 

anyways when i was i child i was very lonely. i was an only child for 6 years and had lots of trouble making friends because i was horribly shy and let's be honest i was quite weird. the friends i did have were my cousins (it's really sad to look back at home videos of my birthday parties because it was just me and my 5 cousins that were close to my age and my dog). i did have one friend, Samantha, she lived next door to my grandma.

since i was a sad little lonely child my parents spent a lot of time with me and took me to do fun things very often. one of my favorite places to go was The Mayan. 

for those of you who don't know what The Mayan is...well its like rain forest cafe but a million times better, at least from the perspective of a child. The Mayan had a huge stage so to speak, it was like a cliff structure that was made to look like a huge waterfall and ever hour there would be show where animatronic birds and other rain forest creatures would talk and then there would be cliff divers. it was so fantastic, the whole place made it really feel like a rain forest and my description of this does not do this place justice.

let me be clear, some of the details are hazy, but i'll do my best to tell this story.

so i started to spend more time with Samantha and one day i invited her to come to the rain forest cafe with me and my parents. we get there and my parents swing a front row seat so we can see the show really well. for whatever reason at some point my parents left us alone at the table and being immature kids we are like ok lets play truth or dare. she ends up daring me to lick this Tabasco bottle and of course I did. At that moment my parents walked up the table and I immediately threw up.
It was like a waterfall of throw up, I can not describe how much I threw up. These college girls I assume walked over and were like "omg is she ok, drinking milk will totally help."

I drink the milk
 I throw up even more and the girl is like "ohhh I forgot milk is what helps get you sleepy"
I was so embarrassed and nobody talked on the way home and we dropped Samantha off and she didn't talk for a week. After my parent dropped her off and called my grandma to laugh about the situation.

:/

This is my live blog post, it's the end of the year i don't have much to say.

Thursday, March 17, 2016

different

 disparatedissimilardistantdistinctdistinctivedistinguishablediverse,nonidenticalotherunalikeunlike


M.A.S.H

i wish i knew what the future held.
i used to think playing mash would tell me.
things just aren't that simple anymore.

Love

i think i'm in love,
but like actually in love.
because i don't just feel love,
i see love in his eyes
i hear love in his heartbeat
i taste love on his lips
it's an unfamiliar feeling, an odd tenderness
comparable to the feeling of short lived  breathlessness when you stick your head out the window of a moving car
but its a feeling that lasts much longer than a matter of seconds.
i don't remember ever having asthma.
a boy has never made me want to hold my breath.
i think i have asthma.



Re-Introduction

THIS IS YET ANOTHER LATE BLOG POST, I AM NOT ALL LATE BLOG POSTS, I'M SORRY, TRUST ME I'LL BE BETTER, I'M VIOLET LUSTER.



(eventually i won't need to say sorry anymore)

Paris Syndrome From The Eyes Of The Introvert

I have always been an introvert,
It is in my nature to observe and hold my breath.
To me Paris is not for the deeply introverted.
I've observed the poets who stand out and they are extroverts,
explains why I always seem to go unnoticed, it's not too bad.
I notice that sometimes the extroverted dress up as introverts, but don't end up being
Background sound,
White noise,
Static,
Like me.
The introverted have so many ideas and thoughts that flow out in whispers
And the extroverted will listen and yell louder than I ever could.
Maybe I'm underestimated myself or just in pit of negativity.
Sorry.