You Once Were My One Companion

Today was a day like any other.

Or was it unlike any other?

Talking with a friend or two, maybe wishing I were asleep in class, and drawing with the sharpies I am proud to call my little elves.

Today may have been a day like any other, but it felt so good to be alive.
I felt alive for once.
It's a good feeling, knowing you are alive.

*Master, you are always alive.*

Again, Patroklos? I WAS TRYING TO BE DEEP.

But anywho, I visited a friend who happened to be ill today, which worked out rather nicely, because he then didn't have to go to football. So, we could hang out and stoof!

I'm going to apply at Chick-fil-a, and I hope I get the job. I need something to do with my time. And I need money. People say you don't have to have money to have good times, it's just that there are SO MANY OTHER good times that are available if you have money. Plus, I could finally go to dances, which I've actually been dying to do.

I've been listening to "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" in The Phantom Of The Opera over and over again. It's so beautiful. . . . It feels me with an inexplicable feeling. Be it joy or be it pain, it still makes me feel that feeling I long for . . . . The knowing that I am alive.

Beauty.

I wrote another poem today. Well, I actually wrote two, but I only wish to share one of the two, because the other one is somewhat stupid.

Here it is.



Hands are stained
Bleeding colors of what let me down
Of what I let go
Or perhaps held on too tightly
I choke the ink from my veins
Breathing,
Pulsing,
Stinging veins
The pens tell stories of peace and chaos
My uncertain mind makes up the ending
The ending?
I still breathe.
But that's not important.
What have we done?


I was somewhat down when I wrote this, so I promise to have a happier poem tomorrow.




Be alive.

And know it.