5 Things I would tell myself in 9th Grade

1. Waste time. Waste time to learn, waste time to look at the trees for an hour, to paint your walls orange. Make yourself happy.

2. Write. Write more, write daily, just write.

3. Stick to your roots. Do not let anything mess with your conscience. It’s all worth it.

4. Do not work for a specified goal. Work hard and work deep. It all works out.

5. Overcome the social pressure to put a direction to your life. There are millions of forks in the road-every single day contributes to your life. Success and decisions are only found in retrospect.

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/write/

write

write to the stranger who smiled at you when you

were struggling to find change at the cashier’s last wednesday

write

write to the woman at church who stared at you

when you dyed your hair hot pink

write

write to the little boy who told his mother that

he wanted to be just like you

write

write to the bus-driver who

told you about his children’s education

write

write to yourself every night, because

you’re that good at extracting courage from words.

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Transiency

And I’ll

Strum my guitar

If it means that you won’t have to stream an mp3 file.

And I’ll

Memorise the curves of your face

If it means that you won’t have to send me pictures.

And I’ll

Watch the play

If it means that you won’t have to send fuzzy recordings.

And I’ll

Take you to the hills

If it means that you won’t have to use your father’s old treadmill.

And I’ll

Write you a book

If it means that you’ll find an escape in transiency.

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For You

I’m writing this for you.  I need you to understand that I’m writing this for you and you only. Everyone else who reads it may think they get it, but they don’t. This is the novel you’ve been looking for, this is the sign you’ve searched for. You were meant to read these words.

I need you to hold a bell. A bell, a windchime, a rattle, anything. I need you to shake your hand because you’re thinking of me so hard. I need you to sound that bell over the rooftops of your being, over all that cannot be heard. Then I need you to give the bell to me. I need that bell, to ring it each time I think of you. But I will not ring it. I will just hold it in damp thought, in raw emotion. I will hold it and be reminded of the times you thought of me. And I will try to feel like you are still thinking of me to.

You have not stumbled upon this. I have written this for you. I need you to hold a mirror. I need you to look in it and think of all the things you wanted to be. I need you to remember that you still have time to be the things you wanted to be. I need you to capture splinters of light in that mirror. And then I need you to give that mirror to me. I need that mirror, to encompass some of myself in it, too. But I will not do it. I will keep it in a chestnut drawer. I will look and it and hold it, after 20 years, and think of all the things you wanted to be. And I will remember you. And you will be all the things you wanted to be.

Chasing Your Shadow

Life isn’t about discovering yourself in the browned pages of old musky books or in the sweet smell of rain.

Life isn’t about looking in the mirror and seeing your future unfold.

Life isn’t about sitting in the corner of a bookstore and reading Bukowski.

Life is about creating something that reached the browned pages of old musky books.

Life is about working in the sun and smiling in the sweet smell of rain.

Life is about chasing your shadow and competing with the person in the mirror.

And I want to live that life.

Synchronization

Your laughter lulls me to sleep

Like a mirage of vanilla and fennel

Rising and falling rhythmically.

 

Your laughter wakes me up

Like a wave of lime and sea-salt

Rising and falling rhythmically.

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The F-Bomb

We, as members of society, have a way of exponentially warping definitions, leaving basic principles in the eye of the storm. Living in a patriarchal society, the term ‘Feminism’ is stigmatised to such an extent, that identifying yourself as one is a gutsy feat.

“Men and women should be social, political, and economic equals.” That’s the simplest and most accurate definition of feminism, but the movement has come to be seen as anti-men, anti-marriage, radical, pro-choice, and many other things that it is not.

The word “feminism” in its simplest form is defined as “the advocacy of women’s rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes “. However, the same word has unfortunately been tainted by some of the extremist feminists who have, in their understandable fight for equal rights, in fact only became the sexists themselves. A contradiction if ever there was one.

Instead of making issues of inequality known and stating what could be done regarding equaling the playing field, radicals are increasingly purely turning to quite aggressively attacking absolutely anything and everything which has to do with men in general. Misandry, the hatred of men, has somehow defined feminism, giving it a negative connotation in everyone’s eyes. Feminism does not equate to sexism- or hatred. Nor is feminism that sanctimonious, uptight older sister, always out to spoil everyone’s fun. No doubt, there are people who identify as feminists who are most definitely sexist, people who expect special treatment, people who use frequent ‘special pleading’ arguments and people who are clearly, through their actions, not in search of actual equality, but who deny this vehemently.

And as in every movement, extremists exist; extremism is inherent to a movement such as this. The issue arises, when we leave the common ground of pleads for equality in its simplest form, and concentrate on the percentage of radicals. Feminism isn’t a dirty word, and nor is it a quest for matriarchy. It is a response to indignation, and a fight for an egalitarian world.

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No Edge

I’ve been posting a lot recently, and I’m really happy about that. However, I just wanted to give you an update about what’s been going on in my life- just for fun 🙂

1. I recently visited a book fair and bought 4 second-hand and 2 new books. I’m trying to find the time to read them. I bought the Rosie Project, One Day, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (my favourite book), The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, My Brief History (Stephen Hawking), and Northern Lights (the first book in His Dark Materials). I’m really excited to start reading them.

2. I’ve been really interested in the universe lately. I always have been, but now more than ever. I keep thinking whether the universe has an edge, and if it does, then will we ever know it does? And if we never get to know it does, then does it really?

3. On a related note, do things happen because we know they happen? If we didn’t know that we knew we existed, would we really exist?

4. Sorry- I’ve been really tired and this is just a way to vent and distract myself. Thank you for reading and have a great week 🙂

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Midnight Oil

I’ve been waiting to go to sleep,

Only to find my alarm ringing for school.

I’ve been looking for a reason to just

To start fresh and just sway with the tide.

 

But the second I finish another lap of perseverance

Or write another page of abstractness,

I look up at the stars and thank myself for believing

I thank myself for doing the things I have to do.

 

I thank myself because the warmth I feel is all my own

And I don’t regret a thing.

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Notes for a Bad Day

Wake up

There are doors waiting to be opened

There are trees that won’t grow

Until you tell them to

There are fireflies

Glowing in the realm of your being

Wake up

There are flowers that won’t blossom

Until you tell them to

There are worlds that won’t exist

Until you tell them to

Wake up

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