All I Do

Timmii

Have you ever sat in a car and feared for your life? I have. I fear every time my mother fights with my brother. Every time my parents fight each other. And all I can do is sit in the back and hope to get out alive. Obviously life has been very kind to me as I'm still walking and breathing with no accidents under my belt as a result of stupid fights. Yes, I call them stupid. But maybe it's not so stupid to them. But it's not very fair for me to be dragged into their problems.

"Why are asking me?" "What does this have to do with me?" "Shut the [insert curse word] up!"

In my mind. It's the same things that go through my mind. Curses, pleas, wants. But none of them are said. Why? Because, I don't want a broken family. I don't want tears. But then again, I don't want fighting. So I probably should speak up. Because I'm an outside party. I can read past the anger. And can see both sides.

"I'm sorry, sweetie." "It's her/his fault." I don't give a flying crap who's fault it is or if your sorry. I want you to fix the problem because if I keep having to listen to all this I will snap.

Give them time is all I do. I wait. And wait. And I wait. And I hope that sometime better will come out because that's what I do. I wait and hope.

A Contradictory Species

Timmii

Friends. Not a topic that I would normally write about but I was thinking. It was today at lunch. I was hanging out with some of my friends, talking and laughing and being weird like normal. But, then the topic of someone else I know, and old friend of one of my friends. They were close. Not like best friends but certain not like acquaintances. They were friends either way.

So then why am I questioning the bond of friendship? Because it throws me off, makes me wonder. Are some of us really friends? Would you talk behind my back? Turn on me in a fight? Because if I can be talking and then the topic of someone's old friend comes up and they can just so easily badmouth them, why wouldn't it be hard for you? How am I to know that you're really my friend? Why do I trust you?

I can't answer these questions. I can only ask them. But really, why trust?

I normally think of people as beings who test the limits. And not always in a good way. We test friendship, trust, love. And it is because of this, we hurt. Yet even knowing this, even experiencing this, we still move forward over the crumbling bridge that might collapse under us, because yes, we are stupid. Because yes, we don't know our boundaries. Because yes, we make mistakes. Because, we aren't perfect. We make mistakes but we get up and try again.

We are smart, but we are stupid. We are wary but we trust. We make up rules that we break. We push beliefs on others, but we don't even follow ourselves. There are those who believe of a high power, so why are there those who try to play god.

I am atheist, I don't believe in God, in a higher power. I don't believe, no matter how hard we try, that we can be perfect. We can't live in a utopia. We can't stop war. Trust and betrayal, peace and war. They are a part of life. Friends and enemies. Protectors and back stabbers. We live with them. We trust them. We love them. And we, are hurt by them.

This is why I question. This is why I wait for answers that will never come.

Humans. We are a contradictory species.

Through the Years

Timmii

It's your very first hours
Not even a day old
Your eyes a close shut
and your cries uphold

You've grown up slightly
At a mere age of five
Life is unbeatable
Not a worry under the sky

Now you're nine years old
And you pray to your god
For he is your leader
He is your all

Three years later
And  you've lost all that fact
Cold fact hits hard
Nothing you're used to

You're eyes are hard
Defiance in your stance
Cause you're sixteen
And fighting to get free

Standing outside
In your own little world
You're nineteen and counting
All lone in the world

Twenty three and life couldn't be better
You've got a job
You've got a lover
You couldn't be freer

You've counted the years
Now you stand at thirty
A wife and kids
Not to mention the house

You're starting to understand
'Cause you're thirty five and accepting
The pain of your parents
For you and your brother

Fourty eight and your first kid's off to college
The fear and the reluctance
But you stand there and wave
A last goodbye for their first college days

You're now in your fifties
But you're happy as can be
With bright, loving children
And understanding parents

You're sixty three and still strong and alive
You're in a competition
With you're parents in life
Because three grandchildren need attention and love

Seventy six and here you're still counting
Watching through the window
With warm bright eyes
Waiting to catch one of those smiles

You're mother and father are old
But still quiet happy
You fear they'll leave soon
After you're happy eighty fourth birthday

Ninety two with five beautiful grand children
They come visit often
For some great grandmother chocolate
And grandfather played music

A hundred and one
You can feel you're breath slip away
It's time for you to go now
Where your spouse awaits

P.S. We were  talking about beatings earlier in class. I just want to say that I'm perfectly okay and nothing too bad has happened despite what I said. I was going to start talking about how it was probably the affect of my grandparents but I never got there n-n;;

Incidents 3

Reading on in Incidents I become further wrapped up in the story. I have personally never been one to enjoy anything historical or  anything like a biography, but this story draws me in. When I first started reading although Jacobs' writing style intriguer me, it did make me love the book. However, now, as I read, how Jacobs writes, she does so in a way that devoid all of her feelings but instead, it seems as if she wants you to pull your own emotion from the words. To me, it is in this way that she makes the story interesting and leaves more room for the reader to feel, imagine, conclude.

Aside from this, I also wondered about something. Jacobs, the paragraphs on Dr. Flint, your grandmother and you brother and children, did you really know what was going on? Or did you simply have a rather thin knowledge and filled in the blanks with what you felt was possible to have happened during your absence. What I mean is, around page 105 and the beginning of page 106, she writes of an encounter between her grandmother and Dr. Flint. She uses dialog in the writing. Dr. Flint said, "I saw your light, and thought I would just stopp and tell you that I have found out where Linda is" (105). She writes this but, she couldn't have known exactly what Dr. Flint would have said. After all, she was in hiding. It seems to me that this could have been based off of a real situation which she heard from someone else but that means there could also be other parts such as this later on in the book.

Timmii

Incidents 2

I feel sorry for Linda. I really do. This is mostly due to the fact that the focus of the book shifts over to what goes on within the plantation. Jacobs starts to write about Dr Flint and his true intentions that have been reveled, but the way she exposes them in her writing is very open ended. She doesn't outright say it, but rather implies it. Jacobs writes, "He peopled my young mind with unclean images, such as only a vile monster could think of." It is unclear, forcing you to look closer at what she has written.

Aside from the writing, the main point itself hits me. As a younger girl, Linda's master is always refusing to sell her, which makes it seem like he might be a good guy just a bit. But now, it is shown that he really just wants her for himself. He doesn't really care, he is just being selfish, as many others are. Not to mention, it shocks me at the ignorance of northerners. Jacobs states, "The poor girls have romantic notions of sunny climes, and of flowering vines that all the year round shade a happy home. To what disappointments are they destined." She's saying that the girls who are sent off to marry a slaveholder have these idealistic dreams that are not true. It really is amazing to me.

Incidents

While reading Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, it strikes me on how Jacobs centers a lot of the context on other people rather than her own life. In particular is her grandmother. In fact most of chapter seven is on her grandmother. But despite focusing on other people, she easily brushes over some events where one would expect there to be more emotion whether it be heartache or joy. For example, when she tells about the death of her father, it is written, "Dead? How could I believe it?"(Jacobs 8). and "My heart rebelled against God who had taken from me a mother, father, mistress and friend"(8). However, other than this, there is little more directly written on her feelings. Instead, one has to read in between the lines to find the full meaning. When Benjamin is leaving, she does try to convince him not to leave but all her reasons are over all the bad things that could happen due to him trying to escape. The reasons that are written out are reasons out of fear but searching further down, you can see that she has lost many family and close people. She must be scared.

Timmii

Reality vs Ideal [Original version]

School. Growing up you hear people say that school is great. School is amazing. In some aspects yes, school is a good place. In others views, not so much. Learning should be fun, something one enjoys not detest. So why is it that me and and so many others wake up in the morning grumbling, not wanting to show up at the school building?

Face it. It's right there in your face. A problem that pops out straight away. These problems are tangible. Student and against student. Fights. People who cause some to walk around worried. Bullies. Now, I'm not fond of the term. The sound just doesn't sit well with me. But it is the word that most use to label those who hurt others, whether it be physical or emotional. They do exist. It may not seem like it, but they do. Smirks carved into the memories of some. Sadly, sometimes students will be pushed so far off the edge to the point of depression and even causing some to commit suicide. Not exactly a pleasant thought.

Aside from the more depressing points. For those who don't have to go through all that. Great. But maybe you are facing other problems. Like, getting new friends. Fitting in. I understand that feeling. It's hard for some to move away and expand a close circle of friends. It's worse when you're a loner. Of course there is work and how some have a harder time then others, but I would be more concerned by the amount of sleep students get. I myself stay up late to finish home. Then I get up at five in the morning to get ready. As still growing teenagers, we need more sleep. I fall asleep during tests, force myself to stay awake in class.

So what if school was different. Because I'm pretty sure I shouldn't feel like I'm in a prison. And I don't always. Sometimes it's good. Learning things should be fun. The student body should really be one student body. Not groups that are like the shattered pieces of a mirror. Walking around should be freeing, calming and not about scarring thoughts. I personally wouldn't like wandering around like that. I think many would also like it if teachers would fully listen through. Some tend to cut us off, and others assume things that may or may not be true. If we're not comfortable talking to a teacher, we still have friends. But why must we all stick to just one group? The student body should be one, not be many groups scattered around like broken shards of a mirror. Personally, I can't name a bunch of stuff that I would want to change easily, but I'm sure there are more that could be named.

Now, I'm a student, and I consider myself a lucky one. Lucky because I'm still alive, healthy, fine. Because I am not a main target of harassment and violence. Teasing and harsh words. Because I am not walking in my own personally torture chamber. But I'll tell you a little something. I've had my share of hardships. I found being at school and being around my friends made things easier for me.

I've sat and listened to fights between my family. I've cried alone and I've cursed at the wall. Felt the distance between my and my parents and wished that I wasn't such a coward so that I would have been able to settle things earlier. That is the truth. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's go through such things.

School has a distinct image. A place of learning and protection. I can't change that image, but I can say, school comes off differently to all of us. I see it as a place that gives lots of work but allows me to see my friends and get my mind off of things. You need to look further than the outside for the reality.


-Timmii

For the second version, click here

Think What You Believe But It Isn't As It Seems

"Hey guys!" Morning greeting. Check. Hugs. Check. First bell. There it goes. So now I'm sitting in my Algebra 2 class, happy and full of energy. I'm getting good grades, I've got new friends and nothing bad is going on. I see everyone mingling, laughter filling the air. My teacher nods her head softly, listening attentively to everything a student says, no words cutting him off. I feel safe, protected. I'm in a place I really want to be. Ah, life is perfect. Not.

Yes, of course I'm lying when I say life is perfect. It never will be because something always comes around to mess it up. But that's not the point. The point is that morning I just told you about. Ya, that doesn't exist. Period. I would like to say that's the case. That the student body is whole, that no ones getting hurt, physically or emotionally, that everything is just dandy, but I can't.

Why? Because I come to school knowing it's going to be another day where I sit at my desk, sleep deprived and bored, waiting for my teacher to surprise me with something or another. Because I'm staying up late at night to do my homework and then get up at 5:30 in the morning to get ready. I'm not in Algebra 2 because being the smart one I was, I failed, so instead, I still in Geometry for my second year. It's not like it was my fault in the first place. I tried, honest, but some teachers just can't teach. That and, I cared more about my grade, then actually learning the material.

Ah, middle school, when everything was so simple. When I could procrastinate till the last second and still pass the class. When I didn't care about the face that stared me down when I looked into the mirror. When school was school and not a place to be scared of or a place to hook up.

Now a days, looking in the mirror I see me. Me with panda eyes, bags covered up with make-up. Hair tied back, fringe falling messily in my eyes because, quite frankly, I'm too tired to care about doing anything more then brushing it. Quick breakfast and my mom is rushing me out the door while I gulp down my medicine.

I walk into to school, ear buds firmly attached to my ears because I want to drown out the noise because I'm jealous. Jealous that I ended up so awkward while others can make friends like that. Jealous that I can be totally unstressed about a test but then I'm to shy to start a conversation with someone else. But I shouldn't be feeling like this because the student body is like a shattered mirror. The groups, each a shard that flew off.

But I need to be thankful. I still have some friends and I'm not the subject of harassment. I'm not standing in a torture chamber so everything is going fairly well. That's the truth because things are looking up for me again. Because I have a story.

I'm a student. I consider myself lucky. Because I never reached a point where you could think, "It's the point of no return. I'm not depressed, I don't cut myself and I'm not even thinking about suicide. I'm not like that, I'm staying strong and happy, where many fall because they have been pushed. Pushed of the cliff.

I'll tell you a little something. I've sat, ear filled with metal and rock music, trying to block out the voices. I sat unwillingly listening to the fights. I've locked myself in my room, crying alone and cursing at the wall. Wished that I wasn't such a coward and could have done something earlier.

I'm just a student. It's a lot harder to be a student then to be a teenager. You have expectations set for you by others, you care more about the grades then the learning, you have peers presuring you. The people you hang out with groups you, making it hard to get a second glance to come your way.

I'm just a student. But I consider myself to be a lucky student. I'm have decent grades and great friends. I don't have a guy, but that's okay. I can admit, chances of getting a guy are pretty slim but at least I'm not with a jerk.

With school, you need to look deeper. You can't believe everything you are told and you can't believe the outside shell. Things are different then what they really seem. School and the educational system are no exceptions.

-Timmii


So this is the second version oif my post. I posted the old one and then read it over and didn't like it.

To see the original post click here

Doll [Poem]

It's stupid, it's idiotic
And I don't know why I put up with it
Because I'm tired and sick
Of everything you pick

I'm not a doll
I'm not for display
Heck the only time you seem to be watching
Is when others turn my way

This game is getting old
And I want to stop for sure
But my voice doesn't exsits
Just a figment people say does

I'm sorry I just need to get this out
Maybe we can talk
Because its stupid and idiotic
That I'm treated as something I'm not

~~~~~

Just a little poem I wrote on the spot about how I feel about my parents at the moment. Really just needed to get out my feelings like every other person needs to. I love my parents but they get on my nerves a lot of the time now.

Not to mention they seem to completely ignore my say on things.