Cloudy skies

“You know, sometimes I just wanna stay like this forever. Just here, laying with you.” I look over to Will, right next to me on our school’s soccer field.

“Yeah, I like how the stars shine through the clouds.”

There is a short moment of silence. Not an awkward one, just long enough for us to think about our thoughts one more time.

“It kind of… makes you appreciate the stars more, ya know? One moment they’re there, and seconds later it’s like they’ve never existed.”

credit: static.tumblr.com

“They’re always there, Will.” I say, turning my head towards him again, but he is just looking at the dark grey-blue spots covering the sky.

“I know,” he replies. “But it makes me sad when it’s winter and it rains all day, and we can’t see them,” he sighs. “But again, we wouldn’t appreciate them as much. I guess.” 

I try to think of a comparison. “It’s like… summer break. You always wait for it all year, you want it to last forever, but then the months pass, you don’t have anyone to hang out with, and you’re actually excited for school to start. I don’t know, that’s what it reminds me of.”

Will has turned around now. “I wouldn’t know, I don’t go to school, remember?”

“Oh, yeah…” I let my head fall back into the short grass. “Sometimes I forget that you’re just in my head.”

Will sits up, looking down at my half closed eyes. “I’m not. I’m right here. But I’m here just for you.” His voice is sharper than just a second ago. Did I make him mad?

“But Will, isn’t that the same thing?” He opens his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but he doesn’t. “At least that’s what Dr. Melder said.” I say, while pushing myself upright. He gets up and takes a step forward, throwing his head back with his hands covering his face.

“Are you serious? You still listen to him? Jenna, we’ve been over this like a hundred times by now! We don’t trust him, remember?” I stand up too. “But… why not?” I stutter.

“We just don’t.”

I stand still. “No, Will, you don’t.”

“Oh, come on, what’s the difference?”

“Aha, so you admit it, you are just a part of me.”

“I’ve never said I’m not a part of you, Jenna.”

I’m confused. “But you just said you’re not in my head.”

“Because I’m not!” Will screams.  

I’m getting kinda loud now. I always get loud when I’m frustrated. “Ugh! Will, you’re not real, you get it? You’re one of my fantasies. But that’s okay, I still love you.” I can see a tear rolling down his cheek in the dark.

“That’s all I am to you, huh? A fantasy, a thought?… Well… Is that all I am?!” He is screaming, but that’s okay, because no one can hear him anyways.

“Yes, okay? You’re a fantasy. That’s what you are, that’s what you’ve always been, that’s what you’re here for. You’re here because I made you up, because apparently I’m insane. Believe me, I’d rather have actual friends than some guy living in my head. But we can’t always get what we want. We never can.”

He’s actually crying now, but I don’t feel bad. I want him to leave, leave me forever. Not because I don’t love him, but because I don’t want to be this way anymore.

Without saying a word, he walks past me, hitting his shoulder agains mine when he passes, and starts to run. “Will! No, don’t!”

I know what he wants to do. I run after him. He’s heading towards the highway. I run as fast as I can, but my mind will always allow him to be faster.

There he is, standing in the middle of the highway. “Will, are you crazy?”

“Yes!” he screams. “And so are you!”

I can see his face in the light of the houses nearby. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, his nose, his chin, leaving lines of clean skin on his dirty face. I run towards him, ready to bring him back home, where it’s safe. But as I rush to hug him, I fall through him.

He really is just a fantasy.

I turn around and stare at him, horrified. He smiles. “You should’ve appreciated the stars more. One moment they’re there—seconds later it’s like they never existed.”

His body is shining brightly now, but it’s too late when I realize these are the headlights of a car coming straight at me.

And just like that, we were gone.

Spare Change

I collect memories in my head like a child picks up change off the pavement.

A visual: Boy walks home on the sidewalk, making sure to hop over every crack in the pavement. He spots a penny, examines it between two pinched fingers and deems the coin a lucky charm, then stuffs it into a pocket for safekeeping.

Photo Credit: FiveCentNickel.com

Change, what a funny thing it is.

I often find myself reminiscing on the past. In some ways I guess that could be a good thing, looking back on old memories. Mostly though it just makes me sad.

Photos, journals, memories, they all hit you with this bittersweet nostalgia. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time, just to relive a particular day.

Over the past few years I’ve made connections with different people, some of whom I’ve come to genuinely care about and love. Sometimes I look at some of them and wonder if in ten years I’ll still remember their face, name, or the reason why I was friends with them. It sucks, but the fact is that for a lot of them I probably won’t.

Maybe I’m afraid of change. The more I think about the past the more it makes me dread the future. I wish it wouldn’t go by so fast. I don’t want more of my friends to graduate. I don’t want to get older. But they will; I will.

I can’t control time, no one can. So I guess all I can do is take it in while I can. The good, the bad, and everything in between.

A memory: Last night I was eating dinner with four friends. I hold an imaginary camera out in front of my face and pose, making fun of the boy sitting at the end of the table. “Hey,” he says, “you have to squint your eyes more if you want it to be accurate.” A hand smacks down on top of the table, legs kick out in front of chairs, a forefinger pushed against pursed lips reprimands us for the eruption of shrieks and giggles. We laugh so hard that our stomachs ache and tears spill out of our eyes.

I hope that I’ll remember that moment, even though it’s sort of insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But, hey, it’s the little things that count, right?

In that moment I realized that I have some wonderful, genuine people in my life, and I’m so lucky to be able to call them my best friends.

A piece of advice (for myself and whoever might be reading this): Keep picking up all the pennies you find, even if they don’t seem lucky. Everyone can use a little spare change.

Last. Blog. Ever.

Tonight, I am writing my last blog for the Ojai Valley School Journalism class.

I have has such an incredible experience here at OVS, and a part of that was being involved in this class.

Being given the opportunity to express my opinion on whatever I feel like has been amazing. Blogging has been an amazing outlet for me and writing articles has allowed me to strengthen my writing skills in a fun manner.

I would like to thank Mr. Alvarez for his incredible support for the past two years, academically and personally. He is truly one of my favorite humans in the entire world, and he is someone I would do nearly anything for.

This time is bittersweet. Leaving high school, and the journalism program, will be upsetting; but I am growing up and moving on, and that is a beautiful thing in itself.

I cannot wait to share my experiences in college with my family, friends, and former teachers. I wish everyone at OVS the best, even Harley.

I will be forever thankful for my time here at OVS.

*@KENNYROO NO PICTURE

That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore

I’m not going to apologize for my humor anymore.

 My whole life I’ve had a very dry and edgy sense of humor, and with it I have attracted many close friends and also a couple enemies.  I was the most sarcastic kid on the playground, often getting in little fights with the kids around me because of this.

Back in my salad days, as Shakespeare would call them, I didn’t understand why people would get so worked up about my jokes.  As I got older, I realized my sense of humor was more mature than the people around me. 

When they were still on bathroom jokes, I had moved on to bigger things.  I would impersonate celebrities and my teachers, I would make jokes about current events, it was smart humor but my classmates never got it. 

I was no class clown though.  I was fairly quiet in class, always paying attention and raising my hand.  At lunch though, I was on fire.  I would come up with little sketches that I would then act out to my unwilling group of friends.  I remember I had one about Panda Express that was a big hit.  I don’t remember what is was about at all but it was quoted for weeks.

When I got to middle school, things changed.  Maybe it was my sudden realization that I could be judged for being “out there.”  My proudest moment in middle school was in the 7th grade.  The 7th grade was a god awful year for me and honestly drowning is probably better than 7th grade but it did have one shining moment.

 For the first year in my middle school’s history they would be having a play. Not a musical, but a play. 

I was so pumped it was unbelievable.  When I would talk about the play people probably wondered who the hell gave this 13 year old girl so much sugar, but it wasn’t sugar I was high off of, it was the theatre. Cheesy as that sounds, it rang very true for 13 year old, slightly chubby me. 

When I first auditioned I was scared out of my mind.  I found out there was only 10 parts in the show we were doing and only 3 of those parts were for girls.  I did my best in the audition, which wasn’t surprising because I always do my best in the things I really care about.

A week later, when the cast list came out, I screamed.  I screamed out of joy because I got in.  I Lily, the awkward, sometimes accidentally insulting, braces wearing girl got into a real play.  Of course the play was awful, as you would expect it to be since the cast was completely made out of middle school outsiders, but I thought it was amazing.  I thought I was amazing. 

Every single show, when I heard laughs from the audience because of something I said, it filled me with so much joy.   At the cast party, the director gave out little speeches to all of the young actors.  When it came to my turn to be praised, the director simply told me how funny I could be.  It made a huge impact on me.

Never had I actually been told I was funny. I just told jokes and would occasionally get laughs. 

In high school I was on the improv team and would get up on stage every week.  I began to write little comedy scenes for myself and keep them in a file on my computer.  

Comedy is something really important to me, and I’ve started using it as a cover for the real things I’m feeling.  I am not defined as a person by the jokes I tell so stop judging me for my humor. 

Credit to NBC

A Pleasant Surprise

Friendships are a funny thing. They are something that needs work and energy spent on them but can also be something that just spring up and develop all on their own.

I am a senior in high school, getting ready to leave my hometown and small high school to venture out into the world and find my path.

At my school it is rare to not really know every person in your grade, considering the small size. However, there was one person that I for some reason, until this year didn’t really ever speak to.

The funny thing is, is that I’d known this person for the past 3 years of my life. But it wasn’t until this very last year we have together that we finally became close.

Photo Credit: http://cdn.teenink.com

I had an unexpected friendship spring up all on its own. A friendship that I never expected. A friendship that will last me a life time.

New Girl

Teenagers are the worst. As a teenager I can confirm this.

We are the worst.

Quick to judge and slow actually get to know. 

I was the new kid this year, filled with blind hope and joy.  It’s weird coming into a new school as a junior.

Everyone is already old friends and you just come in disturbing the peace. I knew going to such a small school certain instances would present themselves, and I was okay with that.  I was so happy to be going to this brand new school all the other things didn’t really matter.

 When I arrived I was cautious but excited,and I thought everyone was so nice.  Then the first day of school came, followed by the first month and then now.  

Things are weird, things have always been weird for me.  Just like everyone else in the world, I want to be liked.  It’s not a crazy thing to want, everyone yearns for it. 

I don’t want attention, good or bad, I just want people to care. 

Impulses take over my life, I say things I don’t mean and I regret them immediately.   This only leads me to further isolation.  I can’t help but feel like I don’t belong.

 My old group of friends really understood my witty humor that would get dark at times.  Suddenly I tell a joke and I’m the worst person in the world.

 I will adapt though, I have confidence in that, I’ve always been good at that.  This place is my home for the time being and I just have to get use to that.  It was my decision to come here and honestly, I really like it.

But being the new kid just really blows.

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Credit to Tumblr

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Talking to you

I want to talk to you at three in the morning, when I’m laying in bed, with waves of emotion rushing over me. I want to talk to you when I wake up from a bad dream – drowning in my thoughts, suffocated by my imagination.

When I can barely talk, overrun by emotion – I want you to be there, welcoming my grievances. Listening to my rants, my aches and pains, and my worries.

When all I see is blackness, and all I feel is pressure, I want to talk to you. My support – a shoulder to cry on, someone to vent to – you are who I turn to.

I have a lot of thoughts. Good and bad, light and heavy, they consume me. And when I wake up in the middle of the night and every inch of me is devoured by these emotions, it is you who I want beside me.

Photo Credit: thumbs.dreamstime.com

Outcast

Outcast – a person who has been rejected by society or a social group.

This may be the common definition and concept of what an outcast is,  however,  I don’t agree with it. I believe that there are many different forms of an outcast. I believe in some cases an outcast can be considered a drifter.

Photo Credit: https://drscdn.500px.org

A drifter is someone who isn’t necessarily an outcast, separated or rejected by society but someone who is distant. Doing their own thing, while being associated with the “in” crowd but is always just on the outside. It’s like being in a group of people but always having a thin piece of glass separating the individual from the group of people.

 

I wonder how the people in the “in” crowd feel?

Do they too consider themselves as popular or with the “in” crowd, or do they think of themselves as drifters?

One-Piece.

One Piece (ワンピース) is a Japanese shōnen manga series written and illustrated by Eiichiro Oda. The first volume was released on December 24, 1997, and the 69th volume released in March 2013.

One Piece follows the adventures of Monkey D. Luffy, a young man whose body gains the properties of rubber after unintentionally eating a Devil Fruit, and his diverse crew of pirates, named the Straw Hat Pirates. Luffy explores the ocean in search of the world’s ultimate treasure known as One Piece in order to become the next Pirate King.

Additionally, Toei has developed eleven animated feature films, an OVA, and five television specials. Several companies have developed various types of merchandising such as a trading card game, and a large number of video games.

In 2008, One Piece became the highest-circulating manga series. And until now, it is still one of the most popular animes throughout the whole world.

I started watching One-Piece three years ago. First i was only captured by the colorful style of the drawing of the characters and the scenes of the ocean. However, as more i watched, I found out a more profound meaning of this anime, which is friendship and ambition.

For several times I was touched deeply by the friendship between Luffy’s team. They laugh and fight together for their goal and they would do everything for each other, even losing their lives. The passion and love among them gives them courage and helps them to achieve their dreams.

The story is still going on but I think I already know the ending that they will stand by each other forever.

Missing Piece

Ever feel like you’ve lost something that you simply can’t ever replace or recover?

Not something really, someone. Losing someone that close that knew so much and wanted a better human being instead of a monster.

One who rather be feared and respected than loved. What kind of animal is this? This maniac never evolved fully. A heart and soul were left undeveloped from the vessel that wreaks havoc on all those who care. Pushing away, more interested in achieving his desired power than achieving relationships with those that wanted to be there.

Denial was never the answer for him. Hiding in the shadows, he tried to hide himself from everyone because he couldn’t stand causing the hurt anymore. The pain he forced upon himself and the world around him was unorthodox. Everything and everyone that he thought he loved was all a lie. He wasn’t capable of love or allowing people to love him. He wanted to learn, but didn’t know how. His power was declining.

Is there more than just raw power? Is there emotion in this cold life he lives? Is there any way to achieve happiness?

What an outrageous concept. He so greatly craves love. But he can’t feel it. He had it.

But she was always his missing piece. She never saw what he did. She was incredible to him and he loved her. But when the missing piece fell to the floor, she dragged his heart with her, never allowing love again.

As much as he wants to hate her, he can’t. He still loves his missing piece.

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