Dear Friend,

I am sorry I made you angry with the words I said.
Only meant to help, they ended up hurting instead.

You didn't quite take it, how I hoped you would.
And I guess I didn't handle it quite the way I should.

Your words were very harsh, the blow was deep and mean
And the impact of the words hurt more than could be seen.

I wanted to forgive you, but the words rang in my ears,
It was a hit too close to home, on one of my biggest fears.

I have always tried to help you because you're my closest friend
Yet my advice was met with malice and so now my help will end.

I will still be there to listen and hear of your daily pains,
but I will not offer any advice. No more, and never again.

I hope this doesn't seem too harsh or like I do not care.
Our friendship will go better if my feelings I do not share.

So my thoughts I will keep to myself, we're better off that way,
I guess I should start this promise now, that's all I have to say.

I Choose

I choose to be me.
I choose to be happy, I choose to be sad.
I choose to forgive, I choose to forget.
I choose to remember, I choose to hold on.
I choose to have the last word, I choose to drop the issue.
I choose to turn the other cheek, I choose to throw the first punch.
I choose to be the dancer, I choose to be the singer.
I choose to be the center of attention,
I choose to stand in the shadows.
I choose to have an opinion, I choose to not care.
I choose to forget the fact that I choose.

So many times I think we forget that we are the deciders of our own actions. We may be influenced by so many things, yet those things do not make our decisions for us. Yes, they may affect it in a way, but no decision in out of our control. Outcomes of those decision and choices can't be determined by us. So I guess this is my new mid-year goal.

I choose to be happy; I choose to try; I choose to live

Proud to be

I woke up to words I didn't understand.
"The World Trade Center has been hit by terrorists." What? Who are terrorists, and what is the World Trade Center? My mind was spinning. My mother left my room to allow me to continue sleeping. I already didn't feel well and this new information just confused me. After my family had left to go about their day, the house was eerily silent. I dragged myself out of bed carrying my blanket and pillow with me. I moved emotionless down the stairs. The words terrorists and World Trade Center kept ringing in my head.

I turned on the news eager to know what was happening. The chaos and pandemonium that the screen displayed was terrifying. I sat in awe as I watched the black smoke billowing out of the tall building. Who could do such a thing. Pools of tears gathered in my eyes as I mourned for the people I didn't know. My seventh grade mind didn't understand why or how anyone could fly a plane into a building. I watched as people cried and tried to get away from the horror. I looked on as people, hopeless and fearful, jumped from the building, taking their own lives. My heart cried out for these souls.

Clutching the blanket and squeezing my pillow didn't prevent the next event. Unfolding before my eyes was an American horror film or so it seemed. The small dot at the edge of the screen got larger and larger until the unidentified object was given a name. Another plane zoomed straight into the next building. I sat wide eyed as the building tumbled to the ground. I couldn't believe my eyes. This must be a movie or something. I can't actually be watching this. But it was real. All of it. To me it was the projection of the days events on a screen. For the people in New York it was their whole world in dust falling on their streets.

Now 9 years later we still remember this event. Just as the last generation remembers the details about the fateful day of December 7th, the day that Pearl Harbor was attacked. This generation will forever remember where we were, what we were doing and who we were with on the day that our country was seriously attacked in over half a century. September 11th will go down in history. The American people came together in the days and weeks that followed.

Americans, we are a strong able nation. We are blessed to be a part of this land, and though enemies my rise up to destroy us we must hold strong. We must never give up hope that tomorrow will bring a better day. Each day the sun rises and sets. Each day brings some good and some bad. We must never forget what this nation stands for. This nation's people have endured much since before its beginnings. Let us try to never sway from what this country represents. One nation, under God. To promote liberty and justice. To be a people who work for the betterment of our fellow men, whether they be of our race and creed, or another. God bless this land, and this people. God bless the USA!

Once Upon A Time...

There was a young women who lived in a magical place. This place was filled with music and dancing. She loved to dance. Day after day the music played and the dancing continued. It was pure bliss. Eventually her feet got tired and her body ached and her head ringed with melodious notes. However the young woman didn't mind. She just kept dancing and dancing.
Yet her joy could not last forever. One day a nasty mean old witch flew in and cursed her and her friends with a horrible spell. No longer could they spend their days dancing. They had to work instead, and it was the worst kind of work at that. Homework! The young woman was still happy, but only every other day. The days of dance the terrible spell could not effect.
On a particular night the young woman sat at her window and wished upon a star, "Star light, star bright..." She concluded her wish and finished her work and went to bed. A few more days went by and her wish came true. A big bus came and carried her companions and her away to a different land for a weekend of dance and fun. Sadly she couldn't stay there for ever. For all the other young ladies wanted to get back to their prince charming s.  The young woman laughed at the ridiculousness, but deep down knew it was a nice idea. When they returned home, the work began again. It was almost to much for the young lady. She was sometimes sad, because of the work she had to do. She was also sad because her friends were sometimes happy and sometimes sad and she liked it when they were happy. She also wanted what all the other girls had, a prince of her own. So she wished on another star, this time not too eager for the wish to come true. "Someday," she thought, "but, until that day at least I have my dancing to keep me happy.
And so she danced into a figurative sunset. As far as we know she is still living happily, the "ever after" just hasn't happened yet.

Oh well,
Someday.

A little piece...

You gave it willingly, this little piece of you. Maybe it was your childhood memories. It could have possibly been your biggest fears. It could have been the moments where you never thought you would rid yourself of the loneliness that engulfed you. Whatever it was, you shared it with them. They freely and willingly accepted this piece of you. However you did not freely give. It was hard to let go of this small piece. This thing that you kept hidden so no one could see your weakness. It wasn't something easily shared. It took all of your strength to pass it on and all of your courage and faith to believe that they would still accept you when all was said and done.

When they didn't run after the first gift you found that a burden had been lifted from your shoulders. Your emotions seemed to float on air as you realized you were no longer alone to carry the weight of your cares. Someone else was now pulling with you. The mountain had seemed high at first, but with this new found confidence in this individual it didn't seem as treacharous as before. You kept spilling out information until this individual knew almost everything about you. You had put half of yourself into this person. They truly became your other half, knowing your fears, hopes, dreams, wants, cares, thoughts, everything. You felt as though you had opened Pandora's box in a way. Once you had started to open this box which contained all of you it was hard to close it again. It was even harder to put everything back in its place. It seemed now that the box was too small and if it weren't for this other person helping you carrying part of who you are, you wouldn't know what to do. So for the time being you keep the box in one arm and this person in the other. You wait for the day when you both take and burn the box forever ensuring that you both will help each other carry the others half, making you whole.

Broken Highway

The connecting point between point A and point B was slowly crumbling. The engineer had worked years to make it strong and sturdy. It was supposed to last through any storm, any force that might oppose it. Communication between the two points started to fade. Yet which point screamed louder. Could the cries of reason be heard from point A over the cheers and yells of point B? Connected as one for so long the new found freedom as a separate identity left A and B in confusion. No longer could one watch out for the other. The broken road had severed any chance that either one would survive unscathed by one storm or another.

Pieces of the highway seemed to fall away for no reason. Maybe it was the that the source of light that brought this doom to pass. Was it too bright? The possibility seem ridiculous. Yet as the storm clouds rolled in the road could be found with pot holes and the gap between point A and B no longer held a bridge. The storm started to rage and beat upon point B, but communication for help could not reach point A.

I stood there helpless. the road that connected my brain and heart seemed to have disappeared. In the beginning I was blinded to this fact. So content was I in my place that I never looked for or at the damage. yet as my storm clouds blocked out the blinding light, I noticed too late the lost connection. The whole time my brain had been saying one thing and my heart another, but neither had been able to connect. The pain caused by this lost connection was an unnecessary sacrifice.

Was it possible that I tore down the bridge for my own selfish purposes. My head was on straight, but the only thing I heard was the cries of my hear longing for another. Now my heart cries for different things. Even though the connection has been rebuilt, it is not as clear as before. My head tries to help my heart understand and mend. At times it helps, at other times it is useless.

Only time will fix it, but I am impatient and don't want to wait. My brain says waiting is good. My heart wants solutions now. My brain communications its best, but all my heart hears is "Soon"

Soon you will mend my friend. Soon someone will put you back together. Soon enough after you will break again. it is a never ending cycle it seems to my heart. My head knows different.

Someday the pain will end
How long? How long must I wait?
Time! Time has the answer. Only time knows.
I don't know how much I like time, my heart replies.