my skin is heavy with envy

On Turning Ten - Billy Collins

On Turning Ten
The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.
You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.
But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.
This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.
It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.

What do I have to say about this poem? Well, wow. I know this is everyone's favorite. But hey guess what. It's my favorite too.. I kind of have a post that is similar to this poem. I yearn for that reminiscing feeling of being young again and being and thinking a certain way. I reflect upon my past quite a bit and I wonder if it does me any good.

"If you cut me I could shine."  Open me up, gaze through the window to my prime. And maybe you'll see the real me. 

Sleeeeeeeeep

 I always find myself pondering about the mechanics of sleep and why it is necessary. Sleep is so time consuming. Yeah, of course we as human beings need it. But sometimes I just wonder how life would be if we didn't need sleep. If our bodies were never ending clocks that didn't send your brain a signal saying, BED TIME or WAKE UP! Hell, if there was no such thing as the word sleep. It was blasphemy. It was false teaching. 

BUT lets be honest, that will NEVER happen! So.... here I am, trying to find something to say about sleep. Pathetic, worthless sleep that I wish  I could do without sometimes, so that I could get more done in my life. Who am I kidding, sleep is my life. Sleep is what keeps me going everyday. Sleep is the one thing that is always on my mind whenever I have free time. Whenever I can squeeze in a 20 minute nap, I do. But it still isn't enough. I'm as tired as ever. 

Falling asleep in my classes was a distant never-to-come-true nightmare when I was younger. Now, it's what I look forward to. I'm sorry to all of the teachers that look down on me for sleeping. But where my mind goes when I sleep, is my business and I cherish every minute of it.   

To be, or not to be

There are a lot of things I could say about courage. But what is better than the beloved, Mark Twain. Take it from someone who knows a bit about how to be, or not to be. Or WHO to be, or not to be. Your choice. 

If I knew, I'd tell you.

If I knew what my purpose was in life, or what my purpose was after life, I would tell you. I would tell you everything you need to know and each step you need to take to become perfect. Perfection. Maybe that is the real task (or the real question?). I should've named this post, "What is it to be perfect."

He told us to go out and find our own pebble. To write about one tiny, little pebble. Well, what if I can't choose just one? There are thousands of them before me just patiently waiting to be chosen. Like that feeling you get when you're given three options to pick from in a certain amount of time. I hate that feeling. 

Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I can't pick a certain pebble and rant on and on about it because I feel bad. 

For ALL the other pebbles I didn't pick.

I want to talk about every single pebble. Every single struggle, trial, hardship in my life. Every single moment i've looked back on and regretted. Like that one... oh and that one. 

I'm trying my best here. Isn't that all that matters? I'm not perfect and none of you are. Yes that is a little harsh I am aware. But who else is going to say it? You know what, just forget it. Forget everything I have said in this pathetic post. Yes, I wish I knew more about life and death.

But why are you asking me?? If I knew, I would tell you. So, try asking God or something.