I would like to write a little about how society is right now during my youth. How things are creeping up to utterly pathetic to what seems real quick in my life so far. Maybe I'm writing this for my future children, though I feel I'd have better luck with a listener writing this for those who have long passed before me. I'll try to describe this life in the best words possible, containing no evidential pictures. I am a 21 year old girl who graduated High School in the year 2010. I am writing this three years after only having gone to college for a semester of college, where I failed miserably. I am including this information to show I do not present myself any higher then what and who is around me. Have I come to this panicking realization and am now striving to at least live my life differently in hopes to save myself from making generations of brainless, anti-social, materialistic, mindless, unaware, self absorbed little mes? Of course. If I post this that I'm writing for people to see, I have no fear for my generation reading this or their opinions. It's the generations above me that I'm worried about noticing all of my grammatical errors and punctuation, my lack of knowledge outside of what I read and see on the internet, most of which is from people I know or distant friends or acquaintances of people I know. One thing to start all of this off with is how much people depend on "spellcheck" for any piece of writing. Whoever decided it was a good idea to include spellcheck in everything must not have considered what handicap it would cause. They didn't have spell check in anything but the computer programs we used in school when I was growing up. At least not that I can remember. I am already feeling I should revise this little tid bit of a story after I've gone back to school and taken some writing classes. As I have said, I haven't been to school in a while, haven't been learning much, haven't been refining skills much either. I must say, I thought myself a pretty good little writer in High School. I've already forgotten how to properly format my writing for the most part so I'm not even going to pretend. It's almost as if spell check is where it all began. I have in fact, used spellcheck a couple of times already. It's telling me I'm spelling spellcheck wrong, maybe I need to write it spell check. Is it a one word title for a program we use? Hell if I know. Onto another subject. I am prefacing this next subject of cell phones with, my phone spell checks along with everyone else's. There was a small period of time where there were websites dedicated to the funny mishaps that became of spell checking phones. They were funny. I'm starting to think I should save this writing for when I need a great idea for a long ass report for when I go back to school where I can cite quotes and links to back my shit up. That's another thing, people seem to swear like sailors in this bunch. Then again, I gained a potty mouth growing up with my mom. I would insert a "haha" write there and I almost did before remembering I was trying to write this as a report. I did just notice I spelled write where I should have written right. I am panicking. I can't spell properly anymore. I am "hahahaing" again. I have just become extremely overwhelmed with this report and I'm considering breaking this up into a daily/weekly journal of sorts. Oh, that would be a blog, which is what I'm writing this on now. Maybe I should post this as is now and wait for respondents in order to continue. Why should I write this for current viewers, I'll continue. I'm writing this for my future kid(s). I feel bad for my kids because I'm not sure how I will handle my beliefs in the use of our technology in weight of how society will be then. My kid will be considered that outcast weirdo who can't follow their friends on instagram and twitter because they don't have their own smartphone at the age of 7. I can do this, I can raise my child to believe I love them and these things don't matter without him/her resenting me horribly for not allowing them to keep up in the latest trends on the internet. I wish I believed myself. I wish my kid would go to school and learn cursive in elementary, learn to write reports with actual books for their researching. Growing up I didn't have a cell phone until I could afford my own when I went out and got a job. I didn't have a car let alone an insured one until I could afford that as well. One thing I appreciate that my dad did was make me work for the stupid stuff I don't need. No, I don't need a car but my life would be a lot more stressful without one, or would it? I wouldn't have the stress of keeping the registration updated and paying for insurance along with the surprise failure of parts and oil changes. Taking the bus sounds a lot nicer, except in the winter. Like I said, I took the bus throughout the majority of High School. I realize now that I paid for my car, insurance, and cell phone with social security checks I got from my dad. I still didn't earn these things. Till I was 18 that is. Most of my friends in high school had all of these things, none of which they paid for. Most of my friends didn't have jobs until they were probably 20. I like the idea my kid won't have a cell phone until they can pay for it themselves but I feel that ideas like this will leave me to be resented. I am going to calm down and break these posts up into sections. We'll go onto the subject of "Facebook" next shall we? Hopefully they will become less scattered as I write them. - Jordan

11/03/2010

The night my heart grew back.
This is the night I forgive you.

You find out what forgiveness is when your heart is no longer sore to the things you've been holding on to. You don't let go, your skin just grows.
I have forgiven you when you can see it in my eyes and I can feel it in my heart.
When the tears I've been losing are no longer sad.
It's all over he tells me, your heart can't hurt over this anymore.
This is over and you will cry no more, he says.

I know this is the truth because my heart beats, and it isn't beating on it's own.

I give you grace, he says.
Now tell him that you love him.

My heart is sore
I have made it so you can't see me anymore
And when my ghosts come
and they ask of him
I will tell them that they can't have him
I will tell them that they must pass me before they can hurt his heart.

I will be sure this doesn't happen, this passing that is.
My ghosts cannot have you.

And I will only sleep where it is raining
my heart doesn't beat on it's own and for this I will never be rid of theses aches.
I will not be rid of this hurt
so kill me

And will I weep where it is reigning?
Well you can't see me anymore so why am I here.
I am weak and let my heart's beats cover me till I am no longer.

I hope for the day this is no longer.

so you say you want a war

i need to be rid of this
this that is twirling at the stem of my brain
this that sucks my consistency and quiets my screaming soul
so that you can't hear me
this isn't a bird and this isn't love
this is anything but and nowhere in between
this is so far from what i ever wanted to become

i need to be rid of this that is twisting my stomach
and wringing my heart out of any chance of a drop i may remember you
i need to be rid of this before my heart is all tired
before i forget what your laugh sounds like
or what your face looks like

i need to be rid of this that is overtaking my thoughts and my steps
this that feels like i have taken more then i could ever imagine
this that feels stronger then i ever could have feared
this which is making me weak

i need to be rid of this like wet
hot

spew

like the thick black tar i could only ever dream about
so i can keep pulling and pulling until i can no longer breath
i need to be rid of this
coming like those darks in my dreams that rip at my skin for knowing what's good for me
this that is keeping my head violent and scared
this that rips at my thoughts and flips my speak to hurt you

my breathing is slowing and hurting
so there is a war on my heart that i didn't want
but i asked for
so this war is only making me stronger as your ruining my lungs as my hands go


this that is ripping at my heart like the back of my hands that are bruising
as soon as the anxiety and heavy breathing starts
my first manic
i've lost control
this that is bruising my heart and my head like my knees and my eardrums
like the smallest sign of being a klutz is the first sign to cover me

this is the worst set of thorns you could give me
this is the cancer of oil you could soak me in
this is your plague and your war
and it is a disgrace
this is what belittles all you are and takes away your man

manipulation and mind pricks and tricks only go so far when i listen to how much you hate me
the more i can see this the more i can breath
you will hate me to the point of being free

you can take your blows at me and mix them with your own self loathing and pathetic affairs at the table you invite my blood to with your rank cattle
but i am still fresh and my skin is still tight around my body,
my heart is pumping as fast as the nervous girl i have always been.
my nerves will continue to jump and not for your fucking demons that have been laughing since i was dreaming and stumbling with my big head
those that threaten my family
those that drown my bull and played my bird's heart before i was born
you can take them because i would trade them for anything my real love can throw at me
this is me telling you that you can't have me
nor my world's dancing fingers or my skies pumping lungs
you can't have my voice and you can't have my legs
you who has made the mistake to show me what hate was can take it back
you who has crossed lines even my father's soaked tricked organs couldn't have thought of.
you, the fool
who made that sad mistake

take your hand and cover my eyes
dance on my nerves and pull
on the threads that hold me together

it will do nothing

you
the fuck who forgot that i found love before you
you
who thought you could take my heart and keep my mind

keep this painful breathing and burning selfish hunger
because i never wanted it to begin with

i have to be rid of this before i forget who i am
will you pray for me?

self portrait of sorts? unfinished

wake me up