47. Juvenile [Bees In A Honey Jar]

Sorry I haven't written in my blog for a while! I have been preoccupied with schoolwork, friends, boys, packing (moving next week!!!) and such!!! Here is a poem I wrote about.. my twisted problems I face on a daily basis, how much I fail, etc. etc. : ) It feels like I've become really juvenile, gone backward in time, you know? I've experienced all this stuff before, and learned from my mistakes, but here I am again in square one being a scared little bat afraid of big bad wolves. It's kind of pathetic, it's kind of a waste of time, and it's kind of getting on my nerves, and I know that if I don't do something about it in the near future, I will go back into craziness/depression and wacko mode : D Wish me the best, for the people who know what I mean in this poem ; )

Enjoy <3 br="" nbsp="">

Juvenile, it's what I am
Cowardly, like never before
Indecisive, what the hell am I doing?
Strut right in or knock on the door...

Intestines, they must be collapsed and wasted
I have disinherited all guts from inside
With it, deflated my self esteem,
My determination, and my pride

This voyages beyond the point of pathetic
It simply reaches an unimagineable low
When conscience has refused to listen
And mind has resisted to grow

Now I'm stuck, like a bee in a honey jar
And I've got nowhere to fly
Might as well let my antennae wither away
Taste a sweet bit of sugar, and say goodbye

Juvenile; beyond all beliefs
Are my emotions beyond my control?
Maybe if I stood up and did something; anything!
Maybe then my life would be whole

What's the worst that can happen?
I'll live through this, no doubt
Mind is not completely diminished
I'll do this; I'll figure it out

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We Pretend

We pretend that we'll live forever That tomorrow will bring something better We pretend we're not made of stars As we roam the streets and bars We pretend we'll never die That our kids won't ever cry Over the loss that is our end Every student, teacher, friend Everyone we've ever known Has a constellation they call home When the moon comes out at night I look to them to see the light To all those who did pretend That their story would never end But on some nights, breezy and clear I see the stars and they feel near I can grasp one and hold it in my hand As it takes me to another land We pretend this earth is all there is to see Yet the stars and crickets have spoken to me We pretend we'll never die Because we truly won't To someone's eye

Why I Think Iron Man is a Jerk

I'm not usually intrigued by superhero action movies, but since I work at the cinema, I can't resist seeing some blockbuster action flicks from time to time, the newest one being Iron Man 3. Although the movies are based on comic books, I still like to do a literary overanalysis of the characters, their flaws, and the hidden messages that they're portraying about our society. Popular media defines society as it is in the moment. For example, back in the post-war days, literature was depressing and scrutinized the advance of the Industrial Revolution and lack of individualism (take into account Virginia Woolf or Sylvia Plath). Now, our society seems to hail the cynical hero- the one who makes snippy remarks, has low moral standards, and consumes himself with one-night stands- the jerk. The greatest example of the cynical jerk superhero is Iron Man. The newest Iron Man movie had a simple, predictable plot line (nerd wants revenge, things get blown up, pretty girl, nerd b...

Miles Away

I refuse to sell my heart, not for twenty-five cents The auction is closed, ladies and gents I’ve already sold my eyes, when they caught sight of the streets So now everyone can see the beauty of my Italian retreat I sold my tongue for gelato, feeling so young Letting the wild berries dance around on my tongue I sold my feet when I traveled to see our Holy Mother in gold Like a saint on a mission, I’ll walk until I get old I sold my ears when I heard beautiful Aida open her lips Echoing through the theatre in which the ancients used to sit But I won’t sell my heart, it is still free For my heart belongs to God and not really to me My heart aches for home, too many miles away Yet for now I am here and I will live for today Yes, I sold my eyes to Italy; it’s all I can see How I wish you were here seeing these treasures with me I’ll try to buy back my sight, taste, and ears too So that I’ll be able to share these memories with you

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