Tuesday, November 18, 2014
See you all in 2.
I'm off to see if Paris can be found in West Virginia. If you want to write me,
sawyer.young@myldsmail.net
is how you'll contact me.
Thanks for changing my life.
For the better,
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
This is real love right here.
Based on a True Story
I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I MIGHT EXPLODE RIGHT NOW. IF I DON'T TEXT BACK IT'S
BECAUSE I EXPLODED. DON'T YOU WORRY, I WILL LOVE YOU MORE THAN THE
STARS LOVE SPACE AND LIONS LOVE OPEN SPACE AND KIDS WITH BRACES LOVE
GETTING RID OF SPACES.
Monday, July 14, 2014
The Apricot Tree
This spring has brought me such a great surprise,
a nice one, really.
Before my eyes I beheld the most wonderful thing I'd ever laid eyes on.
The Best.
And perhaps the most amazing part of it all
is how year after year
with each season
the tree flawlessly goes through it's cycle.
Awakening.
Popcorn.
Fruition.
Popcorn.
Decaying.
Isolation.
Cold.
Repeat.
The weathered bark on the tree has complained to me about the Winter's bite.
And the dark and hard times that accompany it
But what I can't get the tree to realize is how I believe
that an Apricot Tree that always has its
flowers blossoming
and popcorn popping
is boring.
Contrast is what gives the foods their flavor
and is how Helen Keller learned
After all it is you that I savor
and cannot stop from being concerned.
This tree has gates, always open.
Allowing others to come deep into it's branches
and climb around
see the scars on the bark
see the buds that did not grow quite right
see where others had broken it's branches
and by not being careful,
I broke one of the most vital branches myself.
If life could remain as simplistic
as primary songs
and history class crushes
and swimming lessons
Then maybe my life could be
a little more musical
a little more in love
with a lot less drowning.
And maybe this is all a whole bunch of tangents
Yet I always tend to kite run with you.
For the first time we find ourselves with the kite stuck in the Apricot Tree.
I can take comfort in knowing
Is knowing that in 5 years time
that tree will be more beautiful than ever.
More branches
More scars
More buds
and still popping popcorn.
Friday, June 27, 2014
Valuable
Dear Insolence,
There's something you need to know. If I could go back in time, I would spend the next 12 years of my life winding back every clock in the world to do it. Not to change things that happened, but to greater learn the importance of value. Because had I understood myself what is valuable more those mistakes wouldn't have been made. It's not a matter of erasing the consequences, it's about personal strength through understanding.
I am suddenly aging faster than ever, because now every time I see a small white car my heart skips a beat and aches and tears itself apart and reopens the scars I had wished to forget about. I don't know whether I will die of heart failure or failure to have a heart. Because every moment it's being replaced with scar tissue and abandoned hopes and I'm scared because I don't know when it will stop functioning.
Don't be too hard on yourself though, you've never had anyone to teach you what value is. I know what it is like to have to learn what every swear word is through friends parents or what is deemed "okay" by messing up and being known as the strange kid who does strange things and people not wanting to be your friend because of it.
That's probably why we are so good at observation, that was the only way we ever learned anything was by observing.
Work through your obliviousness, it makes things difficult (you got it from your dad), persevere and empathy will become your strength.
Learn to value God and never forget that He values you. His love is never ending, while everything else you will experience will be temporary.
Acknowledge that others won't have the same ideas of value as you. That they will completely disregard what you are worth because of mortal mistakes you have made. Most of your life your value will go under appreciated. Do not let that dishearten your efforts to find the magic in others.
Find forgiveness in others. Even if they aren't willing to forgive you. For they are worth a great deal, and they will make mortal mistakes too. You have asked to forgive all men, so don't make exceptions. Your mother told you "I think the most amazing and valuable qualities someone can posses is their ability to forgive."
There is value in tuna melts and clam chowder and delicious hair and garden gnomes and Skype calls and wonderfully crazy families and poetry and run on sentences.
Know that you can't buy happiness, not that you'll ever be rich anyway; that the wealthiest of people are the ones with the richest relationships.
Remember that the things with the greatest value are the purest ones. That you will experience things both pure and impure and see the worth of yourself and those around you even further.
Never forget that even though some people have had eyes in the back of their heads at some point, that hindsight is a distraction. Then keep your gaze forward with your feet firmly leading you there. Barefoot, preferably.
Lastly, always, ALWAYS know that you are loved dearly by those around you. You may feel like your affections for others do not get reciprocated, but they do. I wish I had known that back then.
But clocks don't go backwards and clam chowder is only good in Boston.
Love,
Sawyer James
Saturday, June 7, 2014
My Ambrosia
AMBROSIA -
Spelling: A-m-b-r-o-s-i-a
Definition: The food of the gods, and once tasted, all other food becomes bland, bitter, and tasteless.
Sine times of old mankind has tasted food divine,
they consume great works of art with a ravenous hunger.
But departed from my severed memory and trodden mind
is the flavor that escaped my grasp.
Your tantalizing lips still tempt me
Ample enough to fill my quota
Do not mistake my words for lust
But listen with your heart, my ambrosia.
The clever methods in which you try to hide your radiance brings me to this conclusion: the illusion of your withdrawn fortification of but a labyrinth - one part beautiful, two parts elusive.
The forbidden fruit beckons me to you.
Yet, none of it is palpable, your aroma is not tangible but all I want is to be able to let your embrace provide stability in a world that is unstable.
Break the cable that holds you back because even your decadence becomes sour with distance. So the instance you uncage your heart let me know.
For you are my Ambrosia in a world full of fast food, yes, the cuisine of the gods, though you don't include me when you dine.
No matter how good it tastes, all food goes cold.
Yet you still turn others away.
Because if food was meant to be eaten then you were meant to be loved.
If you do not believe me through
my attempt at poetry and prose
Then listen to me praise you
the same that I worship Jehovah
And please believe me in
the way I love you, My Ambrosia.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Happy Birthday, Dad.
47 years.
You've seen the world change so much.
18 years.
I've seen you change so much.
Cheers to the man who raised me well and taught me right. Congratulations to the man who has lived a life of success and wealth. A celebration for you because you've influenced me more than any other person I know of.
So then why do I not desire to participate in the festivities?
A decade ago there was never a moment I was amazed by you.
Now I can't find a time when you don't disappoint me.
You would show me the night sky and tell me that all the dreamers lived there. Each star inhabited by heroes of legend and decorated with ideas, knowledge, and love. I truly believed that I could shoot for those elusive stars.
"You can't breathe in space." Is all I hear from you now.
Yet your eyes say something different. You sat on the fence of your own internal conflict of luxury over imagery for so long you've forgotten what you're fighting for.
Stories of when you and mom used to be wild adventurous before she was gone is the only time I ever see your eyes gleam with magic. Constantly reminded of what you are forcing yourself to not experience, what absurd justification is going through your head to make you believe that you don't want that anymore.
Happy Birthday Dad, hope it's a good one.
Happy Birthday Russ, I love you. More than you know.
-Insolence is Bliss
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
In a Nutshell
For a celebration my family had for me, at the dinner my parents had everyone say 3 things they enjoyed about me. Three of my siblings said "I guess he's my brother" or "what they said" and nothing else.
Whenever I use the microwave I never time it with any numbers divisible by 5. I can only use an even number for every 4 odd numbers I try.
Every day at school I receive comments on how many friends I have, yet there is never a moment I feel alone.
I have a passion for exercise, but don't have the motivation to be proactive and do it by myself.
During the last month I tutored seven people for the ACT, but probably won't graduate on time.
The person who loves me the least in my life is the only one who tells me that they love me every day, and she does it out of obligation.
I'm unhealthily OCD when it comes to organizing my desk, homework, and thoughts, yet my room looks like an abandoned nuclear test site.
All my dreams reach for the stars but most days I can't even get out of bed.
My stepmom claims she is trying to help yet fails to see she's the thing that is suffocating me the most right now.
Last week I tried to hitchhike to school and was only received with dirty looks and a mocking chorus of laughter.
I now prefer rainy days over the sunny ones.
Sleep never fails to escape me, but I remain addicted to it.
I can't recall the last time I ate for hunger and sustenance instead of taste and passing the time.
When I'm out of the house I tend to smile bigger and laugh louder though it is just a fruitless effort to convince myself that I can still be happy.
I always eat my pizza backwards, starting with the crust.
Even though I hate it when others are concerned for me, I find myself always yearning for sympathy and help.
I look twice as good in my reflection than in real life.
A few days ago I spent 37 minutes trying to remember what a trapezoid was called.
I've forgotten how to love, but I want nothing more than intimacy in my relationships.
Nothing entices me more than peace of mind yet I consciously notice my sanity slipping.
I can't figure out why I'm writing this, I just know I was supposed to.
And somehow that explains everything
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)