MIDNIGHTS LATE REMINDERS

I wake up in a panic.
 

confused and my head hot.
 

I look at the clock hoping I can finally get out of bed and escape this awful
 
feeling.
 

to my dismay, I still have hours left in bed to dwell on my uncomfortable
 
and unforgiving thoughts.
 

I lie awake, exhausted, and my eyes heavy, but my thoughts racing.
 

the voices in my head seem to never stop screaming at me.
 

I think of how much change I want in my life.
 

I think of my regrets, and I can't help but feel the ache in the pit of my

stomach.

I can't help but think "what if I were different?"
 

realizing that this early in the morning, there isn't much I can change.
 

that what's done. is done.

 

that when I get out of bed in a few hours it'll all just be the same.

 

that I will continue to carry on with my life, the regrets still nagging me.

 

knowing I can't do much about them.

 

I hide behind my fear of the future.

 

I let my unsure thoughts steer me.

 

I act on impulse, only to worry about it when I get the time.

 

when I am alone, in the dark under my covers with the clock ticking, reminding

 

me that I don't actually know where I am going.

 

not knowing what I want.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i hope he knows

As I sat in the beat up, wheezing car with soft music that brought back painful memories, snow slowly falling around the car and my parents fast asleep inside, not knowing i'd be home past curfew. It hit me. His words spoke with just purpose. It had been a long time since we had actually laughed or even simply talked and not tried to hurt one another. But rather we were ready and ultimately wanted the best for each other. For the first time in a long time we cared about what each other had to say, what was going on in each others lives. It was late but i wanted to hold on to the moment, only the porch light was begging me to come in. As he smiled and kicked me out of the car he expressed how much he missed this. How much he missed an old friend.
The new hair, new clothes, new hobbies, the pierced nose, the strange new "friends", even the drugs meant nothing to one another as we sat there alone. Remembering what it all once was like. It was all forgiven and forgotten. No longer foreign. It was as if it had happened in a blink of an eye.
It gave me no time to think. No time to worry. No time to judge him.
I realized how much I truly care about him. And not in the once innocent 10th grader love way, but the serious, but distance friendship sort of way. I missed him. The him I thought I once knew.
I miss him.
Now he is just a sad face in a crowded hall way. He walks with such ease, but I now know how he really feels. Anxious and alone. He looks as though he can't wait to escape the dull world we're all so used to.
I miss him.
The light that once filled his eyes is gone. A fuzzy memory.
I hope he knows I miss him.

do they not know me?

i told my parents i was going to color my hair purple. 

they told me that dying it an unrealistic "in your face" hair color would lead to regrets.

tattoos. multiple piercings. sex. drugs. a lack of goals. no career. hell.

the only thing i regret is telling them. 

i have lived in the same house my whole life. 

i have never spent more than a week away from my family. 

and yet they still don't know me. 

they know i love sponge bob, pizza pringles, popcorn, the walking dead, candy, writing, and not doing my homework. 

but what they don't know is how much i love learning.

how much i want to accomplish in life.

that by coloring my hair purple does not mean i am going to throw my life away.

i'm angry at my parents. 

for a lot of things.

i'm angry at them for not being proud of me. 

i'm angry at them for not thinking i can handle what life throws at me.

i'm angry at them for "joking" i wont graduate.

i'm angry at them for not taking the time to get to know me.

i'm angry at them for not being parents this last year.

i'm angry at them for not being there for me when i needed them.

i know they love me. but they don't always show it.

they laugh when i try to tell them what i am interested in.

i stopped counting how many times they told me i needed to grow up or how often they belittled me. 

because it became too much.

they don't know how much i want their attention.

they don't know how much i want them to be proud of me.

they don't know how much i want them to love me.

they don't know how much i wish they could just accept me.

i feel alone. and not the good kind where you are left to think and fix your problems.

but the alone where you tie your problems to your heart. 

the alone that controls you. 

the alone that hurts. 

do they not see this?

do they not see how hurt i am?

do they just not care?

-Dorothy Breeze

i don't know what love is.

maybe i am just being dramatic.

but when will i ever catch a break?

i am positive i have never been in love.

i can only imagine what it is like.

i am young and naive.

i once thought i had fallen in love. 

but like a lot of things... it...whatever it was ended and life went on.

those who have been in love say it is like falling. 

that life could never be the same. 

like honey.

like sweet music.

sharp sticks an painful bruises. 

like your favorite things. all in one.

often times hurtful but beautiful. 

i don't know what love is. 

i can only imagine. 

when i think of falling in love all i think of is literally falling. 

off a cliff.

out of a plane.

off a bike. 

out of a roller coaster. 

tripping. 

sometimes off a chair too. 

whatever it is. it hurts. 

my knees get scrapped.

my head pounds.

and my stomach feels twisted.

i don't even know if i want to fall in love. 

i was only 16 years old. my first year of high school was starting in less than a month. 

we had hung out nearly everyday of that summer. 

those short summer months flew by for us, but to our friends it had felt like years. 

they were ready for whatever this was to be over. 

it was almost ten pm. the air was warm and the grass was cool. 

we walked slow, taking in every moment we had to ourselves. 

as we walked through the school yard gate i felt the butterflies and the tingling in my stomach.

our hands were held tight and our minds were left to wonder.

as we stood close to the gate and each other, my heart pounded so hard i worried he'd feel it. 

our shaky arms held one another close.

i pursed my lips hard on his neck and took in a deep breath.

i had promise my mom i wouldn't kiss someone until i was a senior. 

at the time it didn't seem so impossible. 

before i knew it our lips were locked.

we were actually kissing.

as quickly as we had come together we pulled apart to question if it had been real. 

only to push our lips against each others for a few short seconds. 

we slowly walked out hand in hand.

that night was the first of many.

two years filled with questioning and meeting up in the same school yard.

was this love?

i don't think so. 

although it felt nice. 

someone holding you close.

surrendering their thoughts and feelings to you. 

i don't think it was love.

although i loved it.

i don't think it was love.

i fell hard. both my heart and sole ached. 

my knees were scrapped and my head hurt.

my stomach was twisted.

i was sad and confused.

i was upset and full of regret. 

did i love him or was it all fake?

does falling in love mean the same to two people "in love"? 

i don't think so. 

i don't think love is what we always hope it to be.

 -Dorothy Breeze 

 

 

sunday nights are for procrastinators and for figuring out passions.

six months ago I was asked a question that at the time I wasn't all that confident in answering. you could definitely say it was something I hadn't given much thought to either. by the end of the conversation I was left feeling as though the person I once thought I was, I no longer wanted to be.

"WHAT ARE YOUR PASSIONS?"

you may be thinking, "that was the question that left you wondering who you were as a person??" yeah, it was. okay. when I was asked I sat silent in the company of a car filled with warm almost forgotten summer air and the fuzz of an old song playing on a winding canyon road. I had never considered my passions until this moment. but then I realized with judgmental eyes starring back at me, something as simple as a passion makes up a huge part of who you are as person. it can create a first impression, it can be a connecting bond between you and an unexpected person. without our passions we're merely just carbon copies of the kid that came before us.

that was six months ago. where am I know? same place I was then. is this bog post going to turn into something amazing, am I going to grace your simple lives with my absolutely wonderful passions??
nope. because your guesses are as good as mine.
I've spent these past six months trying to find me. trying to find what I am most passionate about. only to realize about 5 lines ago I am just as stuck as I was when the question was first asked.

I know I love writing, I know I love long drives that magically fix all my problems(for that one moment), I know I love the canyon, I know I love making new friends, I know I love blasting music while I lay on my bed, I know I love making collages, I know I love sparkles and I know I love pizza pringles, I know I love the way it looks out side during a rain storm, I know I love the feeling of holding hands for the first time, I know I love taking care of old people, I know I love my family, I know I love road trips, I know I love sushi, I know I love making lists(you've probably caught on to that by now). 

but what I don't know is if any of those can be actual passions. are those allowed to be my passions? are they worth even being called passions?

your guess is as good as mine.

-Dorothy Breeze   

i miss being a kid.

I miss the days of wanting to stay up all night with the big kids because the dark was scary and who

 

 knew if I would see the big kids in the morning.

 

I miss the days of being able to sing off key and still be found cute.

 

I miss the days of not having to wear a bra or undershirt.

 

I miss the days when it was acceptable to not brush your hair.

 

I miss the days when boys had cooties and when I didn't want to catch them.

 

I miss the days of that's so raven and boy meets world.

 

I miss playing those Barbie dress up games online.

 

I miss when girls didn't hate each other.

 

I miss when hurt feelings could be fixed with a hug and a "I'm sorry" 

 

I miss the days when I wasn't constantly on my phone.

 

I miss the days of not having to worry about my weight.

 

I miss the days when I didn't have to wear make up.

 

I miss being able to do summer saults.

 

I miss when summers meant a vacation.

 

 I miss not having to save up money.

 

I miss Saturday morning cartoons.

 

I miss when Santa was real.

I miss when not knowing everything was okay. 

 

I miss short days and long nights.

 

I miss when speaking real words was overrated.

I miss small crushes.

I miss the lack of responsibility.

I miss being the baby of the family.

I miss when holidays were actually fun.

I miss when everyone was home.

I miss the easy homework of elementary school.
 

 I miss when kisses and I love yous were saved for those who really cared.

I miss pajama sets.

 

I miss my incense.

 

I miss my crayons. 

AM I HUMAN

 

I know i'm human because of the real things of life.

 

the beautiful things and the not so beautiful things.

 

I can breath and I can stop. (that one was a little dramatic)

 

I feel pain and sadness. but it doesn't stop me from feeling love and loving.

 

because I know this isn't it.

 

the pizza pringles. and all the other stuff my mom says I should stop eating.

 

i'm original.my mom tells me this too.

 

but i'm not perfect and I don't know if i'll ever be.

 

Being human is confusing. but I think i'd like it more than being a robot or a cat or a tree.

 

being a human you can eat food, sleep, learn, change your hair color, you can get a job and

 

meet beautiful people. you can drive cars and climb mountains. you can laugh and cry.

 

as often as I say I hate humans. i'm lying. humans can be annoying. but humans can be

 

great. 

 

I know i'm human not because i'm one of the greats, not because I have it all figured out or

 

anything. but because of the obvious things, because I have been told my whole life.

 

and I've grown to accept it.

being alone is OK.

i think like many, i struggle with the fear of being alone. not because i think i need companionship, but rather it truly does scare me. the fear of my demons sneaking up on me, coming along to remind me of my past.

i like to think i'd actually enjoy the silence and being able to think for myself.

i wouldn't have the thoughts and opinions of outside spectators clouding my judgments...

except i worry i'll be forgotten before i'll ever be remembered.

or maybe i'll grow to love being alone and for some weird reason that scares me.

i once heard the canyon was a nice place to go and be alone.

I've obviously gone on drives alone, you're not a teenager if you haven't. but those don't compare.

this time was different. i wasn't sad, confused or angry. i drove up the canyon because for the first time in a really long time i realized how great i have it. i realized the beauty in so much of my simple, but perfectly okay life.

BEING ALONE ISN'T SO BAD.

there is plenty in my head to ponder, to question and to find answers to. so much i can truly appreciate here in the comfort of my silent car, but crowded thoughts.

being alone gives you time to pray.

to figure out why you don't care anymore.

or to figure out why you worry so much.

to think about the real things of life.

to think about all the stuff you love.

give you time to work out the important stuff.

to explore.discover.or create.

so yeah it's not too bad.

and i'm okay with being forgotten.

as long as i find the real me along the way.

-Dorothy Breeze