Things I'm afraid of

(Who cares if we already had fear week. I do what I want.)

• Failing the AP calc test. A big possibility considering my 16% in that class
• The singles ward
• The Truth
• Being kidnapped
• Being raped
• Getting pregnant from being raped
• Spiders
• Being loved
• Not being loved
• People judging my insta posts. Like, all 8 of them
• STDs
• My own heart
• The helium shortage and the threat of never having balloons again
• BYU
• Returned missionaries
• Marriage
• Cancer
• Heart attacks
• Left turns
• Freeways
• Car accidents
• Death
• Having no money
• People not liking my jokes
• People not liking my writing
• People not liking me
• Running without a sports bra
• Running
• People telling me I'm good at something
• Commitment
• Fear
• Alzheimer's
• Having bad breath
• Heaven
• Hell
• That someday I might meet one of my celebrity idols and I'll be wearing my cutoff sweatpants that are covered in paint and nail polish and my shirt from the spirit bowl that has also paint on it (don't be fooled. I don't art. It's from painting walls) and cutoff sleeves again because I guess I just hate wearing clothes and I'll free my limbs whenever possible and my hair will look like I haven't washed it in a couple days and I'll smell like deodorant and sweat but that would probably happen even if I looked like I gave a damn about how I looked because I would be super nervous and I doubt that would make me smell good and my deo probably wouldn't be up for the task and I'd be eating cheez-its or something and they'd be like "should we take this strange drooling girl to the hospital? And by the hospital I mean the local asylum?"
• The local asylum (do we have one of those?)
• Lexi Sheffield because I read her blog(s) instead of the Book of Mormon because I like them approx. 69 times more which is probably one of the reasons I'm going to Hell
• The fact that I laugh at the number 69, which is another one of the reasons I'm probably going to Hell
• You
• Me
• He him that one boy man kid
• Admitting that I'm afraid of God
• God

          --Erin

How to come to terms with who you've become

Leave.

Go to the quiet.

Lose the world.

Lose yourself.

Find yourself.

Find heaven.

Find out you don't really want heaven.

Find Hell.

Tell your calloused toes and your calloused heart to follow you.

Become yourself.

Wander the roads of your memories.

Fall and scrape your knee and your pride.

Get back up because pain is inevitable but weakness is optional.

Give blood back to the ground.

Eventually give the rest of you back to the ground,

Except for your spirit.

Give that to the above or the below.

Give it to the exalted or the damned.

Recover yourself and tell me where it's going.

At some point you'll come to find that optimism is self-deception.

Pessimism is your truth.

Love is a placebo.

The real drug is hate.

High on a grudge, because revenge is sweet and so are the words the devil whispers into your ear.

Start loving Hell because the angels were always too self-righteous.

Get to know your demons, because you'll be spending a lot of time together 

and they've been waiting for you.

Love,

--Erin

Why "My friend, Alis" is a death sentence for my heart

Me: "You're the literal devil."

You: "I highly doubt that."

I don't.

Who else could tempt me this much?

Your eyes are as green as innocence, but what's behind them is anything but. 

I find that kind of thrilling.

Hearing us talk, I don't think anyone would guess that you're a bishop's kid.

Have you noticed that I'm comfortable enough with you that I'll snapchat you even after I've taken off my makeup?

If that ain't love, then I don't know what love is.

You always smell really good, by the way.

That probably shouldn't be important, but everyone knows it is.

I know you've said you love me before.

I know I've said it back.

I just don't know if you've ever meant it the way I have.

It's usually more of an, "er lurve yer" than an "I love you,"

But I mean it.

I mean it as much as I've ever meant anything else.

I mean it like I mean to break my own heart, because I'm sure that's all that I'll get out of this.

I mean it as much as when I say that a broken heart means nothing to me anymore.

I mean it as much as when I tell myself that it'll never work.

I mean it as much as when I say I'm willing to try.

I think we would be the most awkward couple of anything ever and the world wouldn't be ready for us, but we would be ready for the world.

When we were taking those pictures, 

flowers on my wrist and on your coat,

me almost as tall as you in my heels (but not quite), 

still laughing about the fact that you wore brown socks with your tuxedo,

we held hands and looked into each other's eyes.

As I watched the forest and you watched the sea,

I saw love.

Maybe not the right kind, but still.

I'd give anything to see that more often.

--Alis 

Reminders I can't set on my phone

Going to seminary reminds me of how much I don't want to be in seminary.

The red velvet cake in the fridge reminds me of how bad my mile time is.

The 500 hall reminds me of that one time I threw up during child development.

Walking into my bedroom reminds me of the pictures of hurricane Katrina.

Two-voice poems remind me of Mrs. Lefler's class in eighth grade.

The space in my bookshelf reminds me that I lent my copy of "the perks of being a wallflower" to my friend and now I kind of want it back, but I don't know if she's finished it yet.

The two different headlights on my car remind me of that time we got in a car accident and the timp highway/6000 west intersection reminds me of that other time we got in a car accident.

Cafe rio reminds me of when me and my two friends and my friend's boyfriend went to dinner and apparently I intimidated him because I didn't laugh at his jokes.

Pioneer park reminds me of crepes and hoboes and getting beer spilled on your pants when someone reaches up to help a crowd surfer.

Martinelli's reminds me of playing truth or dare in my friend's grandma's basement so that everyone would get a turn.

The smell of roses reminds me of my grandma's backyard and how you can't walk around barefoot or else you end up with thorns in your heels (and I'm sure there's a usable metaphor for love somewhere in there but all I'm coming up with is "use a condom").

Burgess park reminds me of Canterbury tales, as does "A Knights Tale."

Gingers remind me of that boy that I think is my soulmate but I only had, like, a 2-minute conversation with him, and I'm sure he'd run scared if he saw me again because apparently I'm intimidating.

The drying corsage on my bedside table reminds me of that time I didn't make a move and neither did he.

This post just reminded me of why I'm not completely happy today.

--Alis

I'm as faded as your favorite pair of jeans,

but for different reasons.

--Alis' sad chair

The alphabet at 17

A is for anxiety.

B is for breakdowns. At home, at school, in the car...

C is for cutting because it's hard to find people who don't anymore.

D is for damn because sometimes it needs to be said.

E is for everyone who told me I'm too smart for my own good because they're probably right.

F is for faith.

G is for gone because that's where I want to be right now.

H is for hate.

I is for insomnia because I can't stop thinking.

J is for justice because life isn't fair.

K is for kissing, or the lack thereof.

L is for love.

M is for mothers, even if I don't tell mine anything.

N is for nothing.

O is for omission.

P is for pregnancy tests and wondering who is stressing over them today and if any if them are my friends.

Q is for quizzes that I've failed.

R is for running from your problems because I've been told it doesn't solve anything, but it's sure nice for the time being.

S is for sleep because it doesn't happen very often.

T is for traitors.

U is for uncertainty about going to a Mormon university for the next four plus years of my life.

V is for virgin and wondering who's talking to the bishop this weekend.

W is for waist and worries about how many inches it is today.

X is for Xanax and all the people I know that are on it.

Y is for youth because it's harder than my parents remember it being.

Z is for zebra because I don't want to talk about zits.

--Alis

Shadows on the moon

It's a total lunar eclipse right now.

It's times like these when I wish I was a photographer so I could have something better to capture the moment with than my iphone.

But, since I don't, this is the best I have.

Impressive, I know. It looks like a spider egg.

Bet you all wish you were awake right now so that you could see it in a non-crappy picture.

Bet you wish you had procrastinated your calculus homework now.

It is a sight to behold. It's nights like these that I wish I could turn off the lights of the world and just watch the stars. Even the red moon of the eclipse provides light, and sometimes this light is more powerful than the electric ones we use now.

I want to follow the stars.

I want the stars to ask me where I'm going and I want them to make me a map.

A map of light and hope that will tell me how to get there. 

The night is colder than the day, but the stars have apologized for that. 

The twinkling is them crying when a child fears the dark, because they're just trying to light his way.

Beauty isn't manufactured.

Beauty just is. 

Now go out and look at the moon.

You won't regret it.

--Alis

I should've gone to bed when I had the chance.

1:10 and I'm listening to rjd2 and I think you'd probably appreciate him.

1:13 and the Glitch Mob just came on and I'll make you appreciate them.

1:14 and I'm wondering if you're asleep. I'm scared to ask you, because you probably are. I'm wondering what you're dreaming about or if you're dreaming at all. I don't think I've dreamed for a while.

1:16 and I'm thinking about your hands. I love your fingernails, even the not-so-pretty ones. I'm thinking about how they hold your little poetry journal you refuse to let me read. Hey. I write poetry, too. Let's have little poet babies. You can choose the middle names. Well, within reason.

1:19 and I'm thinking about your hair. Its floppy quality shouldn't be important, but it kind of is. Have I told you I like it? Because I do. Also, do you deep condition? It feels like a bunny.

1:20 and I'm thinking about your hugs and how sometimes they get too intense and I end up with a sternum to the throat. I'm thinking about how it's only kind of annoying. Is it weird that I don't really like hugs from any other guys? Even the super platonic ones? I'm thinking about how natural it felt to wrap my arms  around the back of your neck as we said goodbye Saturday night. Sometimes I want you in my bed with me. Not for that reason, but because you always seem to run hot and my toes get cold easily.

1:23 and I'm thinking about your lips. I'm wondering how many girls have touched them and whether or not I ever will. Please don't make me make the first move.

1:25 and I'm thinking about how you might as well be the male version of me. Is it legal to date yourself?

1:25 still and I'm thinking about how impossible this is.

1:26 and I'm wondering if this would ruin what we already have.

1:26 and I'm asking myself if it would be worth it.

1:26 and I'm thinking about how we laugh at the same jokes and

1:27 and I'm thinking about your smile and I want to thank your orthodontist and

1:27 and I'm wondering if I love you and 

1:28 and I wonder if it even matters and

1:28 and I love you and

1:28 and I love you and 

1:28 and I love you and 

1:29 and I love you and

1:29 we'll all be dead soon and if I never try I'll never know but if I never try I'll never be rejected and if I'm never rejected then I'll be happy

1:30 right?

1:31 right?

1:32 right?

1:36 and I think you might be worth it.

--Alis

p.s. I plan to look really good at prom. I'll even do my hair and put on eyeshadow. Good luck resisting, boy.

My thoughts on the Divergent movie

#spoilers

For all three books. Mostly I need to vent.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

So, I went and saw "Divergent" today. Overall, I thought it was pretty well done. There were some casting issues I had and a few complaints on things they really shouldn't have omitted, but it wasn't bad. On a scale of horrific movie adaptations from one to "The Last Airbender," I think it ranked on the better side, along with "Ender's Game" and "City of Bones," both of which I thoroughly enjoyed in book form and was only slightly disappointed with in movie form.

I really liked how they did Jeanine. They showed her seeming flawlessness from afar, but they also showed her imperfections and fallibility in the closer shots. Also, my little brother thought the whole knife-in-the-hand thing was pretty cool.

30 complaints:

1. Give me Uriah.

2. Like, yesterday.

3. Seriously.

4. He's the best part of the series.

5. I only love him a lot.

6. Christina was too short.

7. Tris was too pretty.

8. It wasn't clear that Christina and Will were in love.

9. It wasn't clear that Al had a crush on Tris and it wasn't clear how much the other initiates were struggling.

10. Edward and Myra served the purpose of showing that Peter isn't just a bully, but a psychopath bent on getting exactly what he wanted.

11. Peter's posse should've been a thing. He needs backup. Peter isn't just a floater. He had to have people behind him to tell him he's the best.

12. Seriously, just give me Uriah.

13. Eric looked like Macklemore.

14. You didn't know who the other two guys who tried to throw Tris into the chasm were. Al was the only one she knew about, when it should've been clear who the other two were. It would've been clear if they hadn't cut Edward and Myra.

15. ALL I WANT IS URIAH

*allegiant spoiler/life ruiner*

16. I'll be honest, when Tris and Four were kissing, I just thought, "have fun while it lasts. She'll be dead in 2 books."

I'm a terrible person.

17-30. They should've cast Uriah.

On the bright side, Four was cast exactly perfectly. Now, if we could just get Uriah....

*another spoiler*

I probably cried more when he died than when Tris died, despite the fact that she's one of the best YA heroines. Actually, I could write a whole blog post comparing and contrasting Tris, Katniss, and Tally Youngblood. (Hint: Katniss would lose. I've never really liked her. Tris and Tally are badasses, though, so I'm not actually sure who'd win out there.)

I know you didn't ask for my thoughts on "Divergent," but I shared them anyway. So, sue me.

--Alis

i thank You God for most this amazing day

e.e. Cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

I wrote a poetry analysis of this once, for AP lit. I think I did well on it. There were easier poems to analyze. They didn't speak to me. They didn't tell me they saw me. 

Cummings never knew me,

but his poetry seems meant for me.

I want to be this poem.

I want to appreciate everything for what it is.

This poem is life 

And beauty

And joy

And everything we all want to be.

"how should tasting touching hearing seeing

breathing any–lifted from the no

of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?"

I love this stanza.

It makes absolutely no sense to the rational part of my mind.

Rather, it speaks to me on a spiritual level.

My soul understands what Cummings was saying and, with each word, I can feel it breathe more easily.

Cummings played with language like I played with Barbies.

He got respect.

I got unrealistic expectations of physical beauty.

Go figure.

--Alis



 

i go outside sometimes

nothing is silent.

not even the trees.

not even me as I press my palm to the bark,

letting my day flow from my head to its heart.

i tell it that i cried today.

i tell the tree that my tears came faster and faster with my breath. 

i tell it that i played it off as my contacts.

i tell it that i covered it up with jokes and sarcasm.

i tell it that it really wasn't okay

and that crying in a bathroom stall is even less glamorous than it sounds,

especially when you run out of toilet paper tissues.

the tree tells me about the sticky tears that it sheds when it's cut.

it tells me about how it cries for its brothers that I now record my thoughts on.

it tells me that it cries for me.

     because i cared enough to share my heart with it, 

     and i cared enough to listen.

the wind whispers in my ears,

     telling me i'm good enough

                    good enough

                    just

                             enough.

i worry that the words are just sweet nothings

and I don't really matter.

i worry that the trees don't care

and the ducks don't care

and that someday the grass will sit on me

like i'm sitting on it.

six-feet under the dirt and the

                   grass and the

                   rocks

because my tears cycle through

and so does my life.


--Alis