Exception

 

Exception

Exception- a person or thing that is excluded from a general statement or does not follow a rule

            This word has been said to me so many times in my life because of someone who is well-known around me. It is not this person's fault of course, but because of their status, I feel that I am automatically classified with specific characteristics. An exception is someone who does not follow a rule. I am so afraid to not follow the rules because of the standards I am held up to. Sometimes, I realize that I need to remind myself about my worth, that I am more than this word. I am more than any word that seems to lower my self-value. You are more than a simple word that may be used to "label" you. Now read that last sentence again.

Much love- WWJD<3

My ring

For 13 years I admired this ring sitting pretty in my mom’s jewelry dish. I waited for the day that it would be mine. The ring is known for being old, gold, and blue. My mother was gifted this ring on her 16th birthday by her father, my grandpa. It was a common accessory when I would play dress up as a child, but never quite fit. Eventually, as my little hands grew, dressing up became every day and I never took it off. My mom noticed me wearing her ring when I was 14, two years before it was supposed to be mine. On my 16th Birthday, it officially became mine even though I hadn’t taken it off for over two years. The last time my grandpa came to visit I was told the story of this ring I love so much. If you know my grandpa, you would know he is a funny man. He decided to tell me he got this beautiful piece of jewelry out of a game at the mall and it came in a plastic ball. He claimed he had waited until the last minute to find her a present so he got it in a rush. In reality, he had taken time to carefully pick it out long before her birthday. Eventually, my ring will be given to my daughter. I wonder if she will find it before it is time, like me.

-Bug

Smell?

 Smell

Do I miss it?

Rain?

Yes it feigns.

Sweaty people or football boys?

Certainly not cowboys.

Perfume?

It does bloom.

Grass?

It surely has no class.

Lotion?

Most is the ocean.

Dinner or supper?

Don’t make me hunger.

Fresh cookies?

Most of all brookies.

Pigs or cows?

Wouldn’t squinch my eyebrows.

Softball glove?

It would have more love.

Danger! Danger!

Poison drink?

No one goes to the precinct.

Weed?

They can’t be a different breed.

No smoke?

I croak.

- Soul

Lost Smell, where did you go?

Lost Smell, where did you go?

Down comes the rain with its graceful fall,

The sound it brings is soothing to the mind after a hard day’s work.

The beautiful sight it brings and the thunder that follows,

But something is gone.

The mountains reach the clouds,

Waterfalls are calmly flowing around.

Birds are chirping in the morning haze,

But something is gone.

The night sky is filled with stars,

And the cool breeze shifts through the trees.

The night is calm and peaceful,

But something is gone.

The sun rises over the horizon bringing birds to wake me,

Morning dew sets sweetly on the freshly cut grass. 

The smells of last night’s rain have passed,

And the delightful scent of my mom’s chocolate chip cookies has wafted into my room.

It was just a dream, and what was once lost is now found.

The lost sense has returned.

- JesusLover1

Seeing Black

One day, I wake up, and my life is changed forever.

I grumble, and open my eyes, yet see nothing.

I reach frantically to see if I have a blanket over my face.

Or maybe it’s a bad dream.

No.

I begin to freak out, hoping this is something that’ll pass.

Yet it doesn’t.

My car sits useless, for even under the conditions I’ve driven effortlessly before, I can’t.

I can no longer ride bikes, motorcycles, drive a car, or skateboard.

For a second, I begin to relax.

No.

Everything I have ever known has come crashing down around me.

I can’t cook, all the bags feel the same.

Now I have to learn braille, and yet I thank God I still have my hearing.

I still feel, I still smell, I still walk.

So much to live for, and with.

Yet my largest part of my life has been stripped away.

I come to terms with the fact that I will no longer see my friends, family, pets.

I come to terms with the fact that there are no more mountain views.

I come to terms with the fact that there has been an end to my late night cruise.

I come to terms with the fact that I can never watch a movie, or anything again.

I come to terms with the fact that, that, I can’t do this anymore.

No.

At least I can no longer pass judgment, as no sight disallows me to do such.

I am free.

Am I free?

No. 

Time to me is a construct, as the days are to me as the nights.

At the very least, I can finally sleep well, for if I open my eyes I shall see nothing new.

Yet maybe that’s what still prevents me from sleeping.

For in my dreams I see, and when I wake up I see nothing.

“Life’s a dream” has become a reality to me.

I find solace in my sleep.

No.

I come to terms with the fact that my life has changed forever.

And I’m damn sure that I’m going to make the change for the better.

I pack away my sorrows, and begin anew.

- Schrodinger's Katze

Life

Life is the rushing winds of a tornado. 

A small girl named Claire from Rhode Island is about to discover that.

The wind whips past her, howling and screaming. 

It shoves her face first into the ground, only to pick her back up again. 

“Oh Lissy,” I will yell, “When will you ever learn?”

Claire stands in the middle of life watching everything swirl up and around her. 

Her whole life up in the air.

She will fly around with it though, spectating her life from a different angle.

Watching the pink elephants and blue dogs of her life fly around in a circle of unpredictability. 

But is life really a tornado or is it a gentle stream of choice

A stream that tastes of freedom and smells of possibilities.

Maybe it’s not…

“My butt doesn’t like exercise”

Maybe it's fast-flowing water with no choice in which way it must go.

Continuing in a straight forced line forged by those before her.

But maybe it is just a calm, steady wind guiding her in the right direction.

If she has fallen down, then her only option is to fly.

One day I will trip over the sky and fall to the heavens

Because Bro when you're at the bottom up is the only way to go.

When life feels quiet then maybe there's a need for change. 

یہ صرف شروعات ہے۔   -------- This is just the start

The winds rush past carrying all the memories of the past and the plans for the future. 

One spinning confusing circle of the story of our lives.

-  :)

The Lost Smell

 Oh the flowers, 

The smell of flowers.

Just gone like that. 

What about the food?

Oh the food. 

Just gone like that. 

Oh the candles,

The calming smell of candles. 

Just gone like that. 

The fresh smell of rain? 

Oh the rain, 

Just gone like that. 

Oh the lotions. 

The soothing smell of lotion,

Just gone like that. 

Everything that you have ever loved,

Just gone like that.

~P.A.M.~

A Cursed Castle

 A Cursed Castle

The ground is the blanket holding in the heat of the underworld.

The castle sits atop the souls of darkness.

Queen Victoria dances in England. 

The smell of roses filled the garden. 

The red beauties caught the eye of all.  

The sounds of the garden sent a relaxing wave through the guests.  

Buddy exclaimed. This party is so litty!

You could see the music dance among the ton.

The golden square of blossoms was the spinner of yarns at the ball.

The garden smelled not of roses but of fire and gunpowder.

The rose can not be tasted or the simple bystander shall become enemy.  

The deceiving monsters pierced the skin of their foes.  

The smoke caused the air to clear in order for the stars to be seen.

What if he's wanted in Wyoming and will never come home?!

The Ball Gowers checked their iPhones for the news and updates.

Get to the Living room to turn on the television.

The barbaric butterflies had staged the attack.

Buddy had to start the evacuation.

Pictures jumped off the walls to warn the guests. 

Opustite toto miesto, kým môžete, Leave this place while you can.

The end will come after 40 nights.

The music danced alone through the halls.

~Cass

Waiting

 We are a little over a month into school and I've been patiently waiting for Christmas break, but unfortunately, it's taking forever. I'm so tired of school and need time to speed up. How long do I plan to complain about this? probably for the next 3 months.

-Shlime

Foosball

 In two days we play our 4th game against DC West. So far we are 3-0, and I am a firm believer in "no guarantees", so we have to earn every yard and score in this game. My recognition is finally paying off. I have spent almost a year now with extra time in the weight room. I would wake up before school during basketball season to lift, then quit golf to hit the weight room in the spring. I had this drive because for years I have lacked the strength and athletic ability to compete at a varsity level. Now with hard work, dedication, and a crap ton of creatine, protein, and muscle building, I am able to roll whoever is lined up against me. I can say with confidence that I have worked harder this year than 90% of the people I go up against. All of this is for one final and ultimate goal, to play a chip game at the UNL Memorial Stadium. #Bodybags

-Homer

Playing in the Dirt

Playing in the Dirt

Like a child’s toy in the hands of a rambunctious toddler, my body winds and unwinds.  

One right after the other. Swing after swing, chasing greatness.  

A soft breeze blows on the back of my neck. 

One foot in front of the other, I trot along in search of a white globe covered in dimples.

I spot it sitting in the remnants of an old dirt patch that had once prospered with little green strings growing up from its roots.  

As I looked at the other brown patches surrounding it, I couldn’t help but wonder…

Wonder about the stories those patches could tell. 

Was it a beautiful, flush nine iron to the green resulting in birdie?  

Were the individuals having the time of their lives, laughing and living life to the fullest in the most glorious setting on earth?  

Or perhaps it was a chunky piece of pie that only flung three feet.  

Only the clump of green strings that was once there, thriving on the surface, can answer.  

And so, I chug along, writing my own piece of history in the dirt that I leave behind. 

Swing after swing, divot after divot, leaving my mark for those who follow behind to see.