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[squilliam128]

this. because i have nowhere else to say it, and i want to scream and hit something :)

reasons why this week has sucked (not in any particular order):

1) I think my best friend got sexually assaulted. They refuse to do anything about it or acknowledge it, and I can’t do anything about it. 

2) I ordered the wrong textbook (slightly less egregious of an offense).

3) I keep seeing a guy on campus who won’t take a hint and makes me severely uncomfortable, and he talked to me.

4) Roger Federer, who has been an idol and role model of mine since I was 7, announced his retirement from tennis.

5) My sister came home and made repeated comments about how I’m going to gain a “freshman fifteen″ and how she had a dream where I became “morbidly obese”. 

6) I accidentally annoyed by hallmate by playing loud music at night, and I feel like an ass about it (probably not the worse thing on this list -- just another straw on the camel’s back).

7) I’m no longer going on a trip with a certain someone this weekend.

reasons why this week hasn’t sucked:

1) I smoke away my feelings and frustrations.

2) I ate a whole roll of cookie dough in one sitting, and it was delicious.

3) I got Chick-Fil-A.

4) Coffee.

reasons why i feel bad about my reasons for this week not sucking:

1) I’m running from my feelings and know I’m not coping in a healthy way.

2) I ate a whole roll of cookie dough in one sitting and feel bad about it.

3) Chick-Fil-A screws over gay people, and I hate myself for giving into the temptation of those waffle fries and chicken sandwiches.

4) Stomach aches from coffee.

reasons why this week won’t continue to suck:

1) I plan on getting blackout drunk tonight.

2) I plan on hooking up with a frat guy tonight.

reasons why my reasons for fixing my week make me feel bad:

1) I know I’m still running from my feelings but refuse to do anything about it except for make more poor judgement decisions.

2) I’m using him as a distraction and for validation and know I’m probably going to regret it later and feel bad about myself afterwards.

[squilliam128]

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340 miles:                                                                                                                 

The distance between me and you,

the best friend I ever knew –                                                                                    

someone I could trust and let in

to try to understand and listen.

I wish you would linger,

but you slip

through my fingers.                                                                                                  

You were supposed to stay,

unlike the rest who always left,

and I’m not mad,

happy for you, actually,

to finally find friends

who didn’t drag you down

and require you to constantly

worry.                                                                                                                        

But I’m sad for me,

for losing someone who made me happy

and a little less lonely

and made cloudy days

a little less dreary.                                                                                                    

And I need you now,

but I know to stay away

and let you break away

because you’re finally free

of my parasitic tendencies.                                                                                      

But now I’m so scared to feel,

and it’ll be a while

before I’m brave enough

to try

because they might go

another 340 miles.

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 9 - Write about happiness

Happiness is the hues of the sunset.

Happiness is a bowl of ramen at 3 A.M.

Happiness is the earthy smell of the pages of an old book.

Happiness is those same pages creating a breeze as you thumb through them.

Happiness is the way a good pen sits in your hand.

Happiness is the smile on someone’s face after eating something I made.

Happiness is the way your face aches after laughing a long time.

Happiness is watching the shadows of a candle dance on the wall behind it.

Happiness is what makes the days colorful and gives them flavor.

Happiness is whatever I want it to be.

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 8 - The power of music

Music is my sanctuary,

a Swiss army knife of oases.

It can be my ray of light

during the darkest nights,

and an understanding ear

when no one else is near.

It’s melody can tell your love

in a way you wish you could’ve,

and it’ll hold your hand

when that love dries up like sand.

The lyrics fill the hole in your heart

and bandage all your scars.

Music will always understand

and catch you when you land

with a bed of memories

inside your special sanctuary.

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 7 - Favorite movie

My favorite movie is my ultimate comfort movie. It’s one that makes me laugh and reminds me of good times; for me, that movie is Love, Simon. 

It’s not a movie that has groundbreaking cinematography or is some kind of psychological thriller, but I still love it nonetheless. Like I said, it’s a comfort movie. For someone who recently graduated, Love, Simon evokes a lot of nostalgia – almost enough to make me miss high school. Watching Simon, the main protagonist, and his friends enjoy Friday night football games and hang out at Waffle House transports me back to my own memories of those events. High school may have sucked, but there was a certain innocence and ignorant bliss during those moments that’s hard to capture – and Love, Simon does that for me.

The most comforting thing about this movie may be how it makes me feel seen. The first time I saw the movie was one of the first times that I felt truly understood because to some extent, it felt like it was my story on the screen. Finally, I felt like someone else understood all the anxiety and worrying that comes with being in the closet in high school – trying to decipher how your parents would react, hearing off-the-cuff comments at school, but even that moment when you make “your first gay friend” and realize that there’s a community out there for you. 

The screenwriters also knocked the script out of the park. Yes, there’s fun little one-liners and witty banters, but that’s not what I’m talking about. The film’s third act is beautifully written. After the climax of the story, Simon’s coming out, his parent’s response makes me cry everytime; their reassuring response was perfectly written. Maybe this creates unrealistic expectations for our parents, but it’s incredibly comforting to hear the parents on screen say the words you’ve been dying to hear, especially when you’re not sure that your own parents would react or handle it as well. Maybe Love, Simon doesn’t belong on iMDB’s top 250 best movies of all time, but that doesn’t detract from my love for it or mean that it’s any less deserving of being my favorite movie.

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 6 - Single and happy

Single and happy.

Single and free.

Single and learning to love

me for me.                                                                                                                

It can seem like a curse.

You’re by yourself at first,

and your heart is aching

from feeling forsaken.                                                                                              

But being single

means life isn’t stressful

from constantly worrying

for someone’s well being.                                                                                         

And true contentment

comes from within,

which means loving yourself

and not relying 

on anyone else.

[squilliam128]

definitely not a  poem

seeing someone who’s the close in age to you in the lobby of your therapist’s office gives the same energy as seeing another school group on a field trip

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 5 - Your parents

My parents are an irrefutable force of nature. They are their own terrifying tornadoes and headstrong hurricanes that walk on their own path, and if there isn’t one, they make it. They inspire me so much for their determination and strength to leave their families behind in communist China to move here, but that same strength can yield disastrous results when pitted against each other or if you’re unlucky enough to stand in its way.

However, for all the thunder and lighting, they’re also a ray of sunshine in my life because I know that their indomitable spirits were shaped by their own desire to create a better life for their kids out of nothing. The only thing that can match the strength of their wills is the strength of their love, and I love them for that.

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 4 - Places you want to visit

Paris. The city of light – I’m sure what you’re thinking now; I can practically hear it in my head. Another dumb American tourist who wants to eat pain au chocolat and visit the Eiffel Tower. And yes, you’d be right; I do want to do those things. I won’t pretend that I haven’t romanticized Paris in my head to the point of setting myself up for inevitable disappointment, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing either.

Paris is a priceless diamond, with countless facets, each one revealing more about the city. There’s Paris, the art hub, where creative minds flourish in the shadows of Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein, and Picasso, and the finest art in the world can be appreciated under the glass pyramid of the Louvre. I can only imagine the inspiration that the American expats of the 20th century felt while admiring the breathtaking architecture along the Seine,  under the vivid stained glass windows of Notre-Dame, or even from one of the city's many patisseries while enjoying an espresso and one of their famous baked goodies.

Speaking of, I’ve heard that the food in Paris isn’t bad either. I think Ratatouille really did a lot for their reputation (That was a joke. Laugh). I mean, what other city can make tiny snails sound appetizing. But in all seriousness, as someone who grew up watching a LOT of Food Channel, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to finally try coq au vin, tarte tatin, and yes, pain au chocolat. Not only does their food taste good, it looks good, and I’ve been scrolling through Instagram just looking at pictures for too long.

But despite being a cradle of culture and civilization, I want to visit Paris for une boufée d’air frais. French is the language of love, and Paris is one of the most romantic cities on the planet. I want to fall in love for the first time (preferably with a nice boy, but I’ll settle for the city). I want to stumble out of bars in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower in the arms of the boy I love. I want to admire the city’s lights from a rooftop with him and then admire the lights’ reflections within his eyes. I want to feel butterflies and let those butterflies carry me along the skyline. I want to feel like another work of art among the city’s countless others. I know – cheesy and probably painful to read. Maybe I have over romanticized the city in my head, but I’m okay with that. Paris isn’t just a city; it’s an idea. We all need a Paris of our own to dream about and look forward to because otherwise, life can be terribly boring and depressing. We may never find our Paris, but the hope of finding my diamond in the rough is what gives me hope and strength when my days are looking dull and dark.

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 3 - A memory

Another weekend, another night showing up at Nathan’s house at 9 P.M. Suspicious? Maybe if you were his mom, who wasn’t home. Instead, I was in for another one of our infamous boys’ nights – just me and Nathan and Ryan watching hockey with Nathan’s dad and brother.

At least that’s how the night started. Soon after the Edmonton Oilers iced the game, his dad called it a night, leaving us hooligans to begin our night of debauchery, skullduggery, and total tomfoolery. See, this wasn’t an ordinary Saturday night; it was May 14th, which meant that we were two weeks away from graduating.

We were determined to have a last hurrah. The drinks began flowing, and it wasn’t long before shots were being thrown back with reckless abandon. There was something special in the air that night. Maybe it was stale from B.O., or maybe we were just too drunk.

Like any other drunken night with friends, the karaoke soon started, our warm bellies and flushed cheeks overriding any of our usual inhibitions, and as we were belting out the lyrics to the songs that made our homecomings and proms for the last four years, I was finally able to identify what was in the air (no, it wasn’t B.O.). It was a tinge of melancholy because while we were having fun, we couldn’t help but feel bittersweet, no matter how much we tried to ignore it.

Underneath our drunken stupors, each one of us was realizing that this was the end. There were only so many Saturday nights at Nathan’s left. Soon, everything we knew would be changing as we all prepared to go to our respective and different colleges, and while we all recognized this as the beginning of the end, we accepted this reality and gave in to the night for one last time with each other.

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 2 - Things that make you happy

What makes me happy?

The feeling I get when I crack a backhand down the line or bomb a serve 120 miles per hour down the “T”, losing myself in my writing, or even better, seeing someone’s face light up or smile when they read that writing, seeing my dog sprint for the door when I get home, playing Scrabble with Mrs. H over a cup of tea at Aroma’s, the look on Ryan’s face when he saw me for the first time all summer at the movie theater, the hugs I get from Olivia after everytime we hang out, or even rereading Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda for the 15th time (not an exaggeration). 

These might seem totally unrelated, but it’s in these moments that I’m finally able to lose myself. Happiness has been hard to come by. However, these little moments are those rare times when the weight on my shoulders seems to disappear, and I swear I can fly. 

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 1 - Describe your personality

It’s hard to write about yourself when you don’t know who you are, and I guess I’ve always approached my relationships with the mindset of being a social chameleon – blending in, trying to get by, and making myself likeable.              

My personality used to depend on who you were, but I’ve been trying to find a version of myself that feels true. Maybe I don’t fit into a neat little box, fall in with a conventional clique, or know who I am right now, but I’m realizing that’s okay because I know who I’m trying to be.                                                              

Maybe it’s idealistic or naive, but I want to be the best version of myself – always accepting of others, willing to stand up for myself, and live freely, independent of what others think. I’ve spent too much time worrying about what others think and trying on different masks, but I’m done thinking about what I want to be and ready to start being who I want to be.

[squilliam128]

not a haiku

Old photographs

of smiles grafted

to my face,

surrounded

by associates

that you thought

you knew,

people 

that you imagined

were friends.                                                                                                            

Old photographs

of people along

for the ride,

straws you

grasped at

to hide the

vagabond,

for whom

you have

no more tears

to cry.                                                                                                                        

Old photographs

from an eternity ago,

a different reality,

that now collect

dust

like the discarded

and departed 

memories

that they once

captured.

[squilliam128]

a haiku

I’ve managed the pain,

but my scars still grow deeper.

I am not okay.

[squilliam128]

not a poem, just a really depressing thought dump

i’m tired of running

running from who i am

and always trying to run towards what i think i want

to be normal

to fit in

to be picture perfect

i grew up hating myself

for not looking like the kids on tv

for not being like everyone else

for feeling unwanted feelings

i still hate myself

for wasting all that time

running

and for being so difficult to love

for my own impossible expectations

for hating what i see in the mirror

for hating how i feel in my own skin

what do i expect

what do i want

life isn’t some movie

this isn’t a rom com

or a norman rockwell painting

you’re not getting your happy ending

so just accept that now

before you disappoint yourself more later

before you can hope for more

[squilliam128]

don’t do drugs, kids

Empty eyes

reflecting candy skies

with cotton candy clouds

above bubbly ponds.                                                                                                

Close your eyes

to escape this paradise,

this parody

of reality:                                                                                                                  

A twisted fantasy,                                                                                                     

Your only escape

from reality.

Your only chance

to feel free.                                                                                                               

But your freedom

ties you down

and sends you running

when they come calling.

[squilliam128]

2:29

Another minute goes by

to signify

another sleepless night.

Because your mind can’t stop

wandering,

wondering

why,

and pondering

all those twisted thoughts

leaving you distraught.

It’s 2:39

and now it’s a different “why”,

a twisted and perverted “why”.

But you promised to survive

the endless night.

So you breathe in.

A breath in.

Breathing.

One more.

Now exhale,

blow out,

and watch the clouds

dissipate,

leaving your future

in doubt.

But you make the trade:

Rob Peter

so that tonight

Paul won’t make you pay.

Anything

to guarantee

you’ll see

the light of day