Brown Eyes

Sunglasses bring darkness that soothes,
but what I thought was acupuncture is
just a rusty nail in my eye,
and I strain to see light that should be there.
Dark glasses hide marks that make-up tries to cover,
when red eyes always show.
We take them off,
make our fingertips and palms kiss,
thinking we’re ready to fight
when we’re really gripping a vine of spiked metal
and telling ourselves blood is lipstick.
But I don’t want to hide or ignore the blood.
So if blood’s reflection is too blinding,
just tint my eyes with glass that should’ve gauged my back.
So when people really look into my eyes
they might realize they’re brown from splinters.

Holey Heart

"Home is where the heart is?"
"My chest is where my heart is," was my answer.
At first I just wanted to be weird and true to my cheesy sense of humor as I answered my friend's question. The more I thought about it, though, the more I wanted my answer to be true. I enjoy being at home where I can spend time with loving friends and family in a beautiful place. I could easily stay at home forever. But that's the problem--it'd be easy.
Leaving for college was pretty painful, and though I really don't like crying, I broke down a bunch. While people are worth crying for, I don't want my heart to be broken for them first. I can't rest my love on locations or certain people in those locations, cause if I leave them, I'll be leaning into a free fall. I'm not saying that I don't want to care about people or discount the beauty of uniqueness that each place has. I just don't want to be ripped apart every time I leave. If I loose my balance and don't place my hope and love in something higher than me, then I'm left by myself.
I don't like the idea of leaving a part of my heart back "home." That'd make me incomplete. I'd rather just store home in my heart and know that where I am at any moment is exactly where I should be.

Second Grade Brain

Leaving home for college is one way to make you realize how little you need to live. When I got home after my first year away, I was determined to purge the masses of built-up of clutter I'd left at home.
As I looked through my old school work, I wondered why I'd held onto useless papers for so long (it was probably for sentimental reasons). My old papers are now moving on into the recycling bin. As a final tribute to the glory days of elementary school, here's a peek into my second grade brain:

 This is second grade me. Just to clear things up, in real life I didn't wear bows, had normally shaped eyes, did have a nose and ears, had much lighter skin, had more than 6 eyelashes, did not have lines for lips, did have a substantially thick neck, and did not have a gaping hole in my face where my mouth should've been.

This is a picture I drew after going on a field trip to the symphony. For some reason I thought that harpists use bows instead of just hands. I guess it made sense to draw a bow because I made harpist's arms so short in relation to the harp. Oh well. Now I am in orchestra and know better. 

It's doubtful that a second grader would list everyone in his or her class on the page for "My friends in second grade." We're concerned about friend groups early on. This was before I made the distinction between friends and acquaintances, so it could be that some of these classmates weren't truly my friends. Also, if you're wondering what the different colored circles mean, they are each person's favorite color(s). 

It's interesting to see what mattered to me and what I needed to improve on 10 years ago. I currently get along with my sister, am still in school writing, and talk with my friends. Looks like a success.

This picture was supposed to exemplify autumn. What's funny is that my family never carved Jack-o-lanterns, didn't have to rake falling leaves, and didn't ever hang up Halloween decorations like ghosts. This picture represents what people told me autumn should be and had nothing to do with my reality. Because there was nothing distinct about my autumn experiences, I presented the expected and overdone. Second graders definitely aren't the only ones who do this. Also, I wonder why the sky is green. Green wasn't even my favorite color.

So this was just second grade. There'll be more to come.

Undeclared Thoughts

Two weeks ago, it felt weird for my hand to be moving over a trackpad instead of gripping a hammer. I'd just gotten back from Mexico, where I spent a week helping to build a roof for a church. It was refreshing to be separated from my phone and computer. Following internet tangents in my spare time was replaced with playing basketball and getting to know new friends.
Mexico was a great place for me to over-analyze and get lost in my thoughts (even more than I normally do). Here's what I brought back from Mexico:

• I'm too addicted to comfort. I need to cut myself off from the framed-picture future of graduating in four years or less, finding a steady job right away (preferably at home), and having some cool adventures every now and then. Maybe my life is going to be crazy, and my life-calling is something that isn't considered a job by today's or the future's standards. To give you context, I'm currently an undeclared freshman. I don't like the feeling of not having a major goal. Even though my GE classes are leading towards graduating, I wish I had more of a vision. I was reminded that if I pursue what completes me--whatever that may be, it'll be worth it. This isn't to say that I should plunge into my future with only my ideals. I need to understand the situation from multiple perspectives. There needs to be a balance of passion and practicality. As I wonder and dream about my future, I want to be open to the uncommon and unsafe.
• Smiles and handshakes are powerful. Aside from "yes," "no," "thank you," and "hello," I knew no Spanish. I initially felt bad that I didn't make the effort to learn basic phrases before going to Mexico, but later realized that there's something so special about communicating with tired smiles instead of calculated sentences. Church members said "thanks" with handshakes and hugs, and that was enough. As a side note, since I'm not used to getting kissed on the cheek as a greeting, I accidentally rammed the right side of my face into a lady that was trying to kiss me on the cheek. Thankfully, I'm pretty sure that there were no injuries. 
• Homemade Mexican food is amazing. I figured that the food would be delicious, and my prediction was confirmed. There's nothing like eating homemade carne asadas, fresh tortillas, tamales, and tacos after a hard day's work in Mexico to fill you up and make you feel loved.

The moment you hit your thumb with a hammer, life gets very unpleasant. After hitting my thumb numerous times on the second day of making trusses, I wanted to be done with hammering. By the next day, we finished the trusses, and my thumb started to recover. By the end of the week, I forgot what a throbbing thumb felt like and said I definitely wanted to help build next year (this is an annual event). Typing feels normal again. I've slowly gone back to wasting hours online. I knew this would happen, but I still want to recapture some of what I had in Mexico. I'm going to genuinely start trying to and will let you know how it goes.

New Start-Introduction

Hi! I'm Laurie. If you're reading this, I'm absolutely honored. I started this blog because it was a requirement for my creative writing class. For over a year, it's been wasting away (as you can tell). I've been wanting to revitalize it for a while, but was too lazy. From now on, I will try to post more regularly.
So, you might be asking, "What can I expect from this blog?" (or maybe you're not--thanks for letting me tell you anyway). As of now, I think I'll be posting random thoughts and events from life in different forms--maybe basic paragraphs, maybe poems, maybe artwork. I know that's very vague, but I'm an extremely indecisive person and don't want to make empty promises.
Basically, I want this to be a place where I can offer you my silly putty thoughts, and you can do what you want with them. If you want to take them and smash them with your shoe, go ahead. If you want to examine them more closely, go ahead. If you want to mold them into sculptures and put them on your desk, go ahead. If you just want to ignore them, go ahead. I welcome constructive criticism and won't be offended. I'll just be glad that you gave me a chance.
I'm sure that a lot of the things I'll post will make my creative writing teacher cringe (I'll use cliches, accidentally waste words, and be unintentionally obscure). That's OK.  I'm sure that a lot of the things I'll post will make my mom cringe. That's OK. I'm sure that a lot of the things I'll post will make my future self cringe. That's OK. I hope you can cringe with me.