You

I’m generally a happy person, but we all have our baggage.

Photo Credit: etsystatic.com

No one is completely happy and the more you pretend to be, the more miserable you will become.

We all have ups and downs, rough patches and smooth ones.

Don’t feel like you need to cast out the bad, for it will never go away if you try and push it out.

Embrace hardships. Embrace your insecurities. Embrace what you’ve been through.

Accept the bad, because acceptance is how you overcome it.

Concentrate on the good. Embrace your successes. Embrace what you’re proud of. Embrace what makes you happy. Embrace who you are.

Focus on the good because thats how you create more.

Accept the bad and embrace the good for it makes who you are,

and you…

are beautiful.

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I picked a rose today

I picked a rose today.

It was beautiful and perfect, so I tore it off its stem.

I ended its life to improve mine.

I liked seeing it in my hands,

it’s symmetry and beautiful color.

I picked it; it was mine now.

I carried it around with me,

I started thinking.

What if I was this rose?

Minding my own business,

fulfilling the fate mother nature gave to me.

Happy, growing, thriving, sitting on my stem,

then along came a girl.

She broke my neck.

She tore me from my home.

What did I ever do to her?

I think the Earth got mad at me.

Its leaves started to wilt and turn brown at the edges.

The bugs living inside started to crawl on my hand,

almost like a plead for help.

“Why did you take our home, leave us destined to die?”

I think the Earth got mad at me,

I think I deserved it.

After carrying it around for a while, I set it on a tree and left it.

I picked a rose today,

it was beautiful and perfect, so I tore it off its stem.

I could have just left it,

let it be.

Let the bugs live in its center.

Let the Earth run its course: the rose would continue to grow,

it would later begin to wilt,

it would eventually die.

It was destined to die eventually, but not the way it did.

If I had left it, it would have died with the other roses.

It would have raised numerous families of bugs.

It would have fallen to the ground decomposed and continued the cycle it was destined to do.

Instead, I picked it.

It will now die on a tree

away from the other roses.

It will die far sooner than it should,

start to wither away from being separated from its stem.

And why does it come to this fate? Because I was selfish.

I could have left it,

enjoyed it’s beauty from afar.

But no,

I was selfish.

I wanted it for my own.

It could have been enjoyed by many more people,

but instead it lays withered and rotting on a tree, slowly dying.

I picked a rose today,

I ended a rose today.

 

Photo Credit: jacksonandperkins.com

 

Exhausted

Image Credit: Celestialhairgallery.com

For the girls: a few questions.

Isn’t it exhausting? Exhausting to have a standard already set for what makes a woman beautiful? Everywhere you look, you see a beautiful girl with beautiful hair, skin, and eyes, a beautiful smile and a beautiful body, a girl who looks nothing like you. She doesn’t seem to look like anyone you’ve ever met before, either, except for the hundreds of other girls you see on billboards or magazines. Those girls all look alike.

Isn’t it exhausting that from the time you are born, you are programmed to think that the basis of your worth comes from the extent of your beauty? Why is so much of your importance based on your physical appearance, when really it shouldn’t matter at all?

How long have you felt the pressures of upholding the image of a “woman”? Since as long as you’ve been able to communicate, you are told what you should and should not do or say, how to act, and even how to sit properly.

Isn’t it exhausting to feel like you’re never good enough? Isn’t it exhausting to be chastised for speaking your mind or disagreeing with someone, to feel guilty for eating a big meal? Doesn’t it frustrate you to think that you might not be paid the same amount as the man sitting in the desk next to you and who signed the same contract as you?

Do you get angry? When you have too much contact with the opposite sex- you’re flirtatious and need attention, but when you don’t engage with men- you’re a prude.

Isn’t it exhausting to always be comparing yourself to, competing with, and feeling threatened by other strong and capable women? Girls shouldn’t have to feel this way about each other; girls should want to support each other. Do you ever try so hard to make everyone else appreciate you that you forget to appreciate yourself?

Why is it okay for your brother to tell a sexual joke, but God forbid a sister should make one, for then it becomes “disappointing” and “irresponsible.” Why in third grade PE do the boys have to do twenty push-ups, but the girls can only do ten “girl” push-ups? Why do boys use the phrase “like a girl” as a way to insult one another, why should boys be warned not to “throw like a girl”?

Isn’t it exhausting to always be made so aware of how you look? To feel self conscious about even your chipped nail polish because a boy commented on it, to feel uncomfortable walking past groups of men on the street for fear of hearing how pretty you look in that little dress.

Why are skinny girls the only ones allowed to wear certain clothes, the only ones you see in advertisements? Does it make you sad to think about how strongly society correlates being thin to being beautiful?

And why is it- no matter what- everything always comes back to your physical appearance?

Being a girl myself, I think I can sum up the answer to these questions, on behalf of all girls: Yes. It does make us sad, and angry, and frustrated. It is exhausting – and we’re tired of it.

Nightmare

It’s a horse. Can you guess what colors plague their minds the most? It’s black. The dark color that overpowers all, that can swallow up anything lighter that dares to power through.

This horse is all black, smoking, shimmering, not hidden like Conscience but not sharp like Shadow. Her socks are grey, her hooves pulse, she plods along, following me, aiding me. Her name is Nightmare but she is Hope. She is Beauty. She is Power.

She, in her huge Gypsy form, is difficult to see. Hope shows up the least and they can see no Beauty in this world. This world is destroyed. Corrupted. Shattered. Gods know what plans the world has for lowly humans.

Nightmare lives on. She, in her huge Gypsy form, fights Shadow and Conscience and will never let Hope and Beauty die. Her Power is immense, never weakening, but one day she will die.

She feeds on Hope and Beauty, and they are on their way to extinction. The good powers of this world, the bright sunlight, the clear winds, are being swallowed by the seething black haze that eats all.

Nightmare has left me and begins to die.

Caterpillar & Butterfly

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A butterfly populates the world with color and shine.

These creatures show natural beauty to all of mankind.

They start life as caterpillar, they’re ugly in a way.

Fat little creatures that must keep predators at bay.

They eat leaves and shed skin, a never ending feast.

It is not a beautiful creature yet, it is just a beast.

The Caterpillar is done shedding its skin.

Its life as a beast is almost at an end.

It finds a nice sturdy tree to hang itself from.

It will emerge from its cocoon when its transformation is done.

Weeks pass.

The Caterpillar sleeps fast.

Slowly there is a movement in its temporary tomb.

It emerges from its prison like a baby from the womb.

Its wings are damp it cannot fly.

It must dry itself or it will die.

Finally the butterfly is ready, the world is now fair.

Killer of these magical creatures now must beware.
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Flower

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A flower cannot grow alone.

It must find soil to have a home.

It starts as a seed, it probably won’t survive.

The odds are great the seed will die.

It’s a small chance but the seed succeeds.

It must steal sunlight and water from the tenacious weed.

With hope and care the seed begins to sprout.

It must fend off the occasional drought.

After a while the seed is a fully-grown stem.

Mother Nature can no longer extinguish it on a whim.

The stem will contain an invigorating power.

On it will grow a beautiful flower.

The flower will soon shoot its seeds into the air.

Once again the tenacious weed must beware.