Poetry, My Demise

 How I feel today... ↓

http://www.funnypuppysite.com/pictures/Very_Sleepy_Puppy.jpg

 Hey dearest readers, I come to you a broken, tired writer. For the past 2 months, I've been typing away at a portfolio of poetry. On this cloudy day, at 3 in the morning, all gazillion pages were printed, and finalized. Right now, lack of sleep isn't equaling a happy Rachel, but I'm sure I will feel overwhelming accomplished later. Here's a taste of some of my poetry:

Ode To My High School Planner

Bound together by navy swirls,
You hold more than crinkled paper
Within your tidy realm.

Colorful tattoos by artists
Named Bic and Paper mate,
Always turn my stare into a trance.

Like an obedient retriever, you sit,
And stay,
By my side from the sun rise of English,
Till the wee hours of Physics.

Sometimes I know you feel used,
Don’t worry your little pages.
Come June, I’ll unlock your chains
Letting you hide safely
Inside my fire pit.

Your mortal enemy, sleep,
Has never gotten the best of you
That sly stranger has pelted
You into bedroom walls,
Once, or maybe six times.
Always coming away intact.

Shoved between the Goliath,
Glencoe,
And the protruding,
Pearson,
Textbooks are not competition.
Math and Science will have never owned my heart,
Just you, and your
“Commitment to Excellence.”

Stunning on the outside,
With a vintage yellow sheen,
I’d give you an A+.
No one can pull off 1970’s
Couch patterns quite like planner.

You may not spell “F-I-T-E” right,
Or recognize any Jewish Holidays,
But illiteracy, and ignorance,
Are the new, educated and aware.
Way to be a trendsetter.

Oh planner,
Do not cry for me.
Frustration, anxiety, and stress
Will never last forever.
Our non-decomposable bond will
Last until page 176.


  If you are years out of high school, maybe this poem wasn't the clearest. Luckily, you aren't the one grading it. Don't get me wrong, I did it for me, but the grade is also high on my list of priorities. In pursuit to prove I'm more than mediocre, I'll give you another taste of my delicious pieces.

Alcoholics Anonymous

Looking into a bottle of Jack,
Is like peering into a barrel of
A semi automatic.
Curiosity is the downfall of man,
When he yearns to feel alive.

Your misery and pain
Get drowned in a foul liquid.
Coughing hard,
Your eyes are wide.
With every shot you feel alive.

Memories become a foggy haze,
A mere whisper in the wind.
Every time they called you
Mediocre,
Greedy,
Incompetent,
Is cured with every swig.

Demons rage war in your head,
All you manage is surrender.
Verbally abusive inanimate objects,
Animate hallucinations of childhood
nightmares from sharp tongues.

In the morning, you’re alive.
Bile surrounding you on
Cold bathroom stucco.
You’d pound a fist in acrimony,
yet your head can’t even raise.

Drinking your life away,
Pulling the trigger,
Isn’t as effortless as it appears.



Note that I am not an alcoholic. Nor will I ever be, but I've seen tons of lives destroyed over binge drinking. My grandmother, struggled with addiction all her life, and it ended up being the ailment that took her home to heaven. I'm not jumping on the bandwagon of my parents to think it was a suicide, but more so like how I described the barrel of a gun. You can drink your life away with out meaning to.
Here's my final piece for you:

Mid Summers Night Camp


Dimming light, I drove,
Shifting pebbles under bald tires.
Swerve, break, gas, slow.

The lowland meadow,
Destination of seclusion.
Cat tails, crab grass, mossy elms.
Fog off murky ponds crept,
Like a predator waking from hibernation.

Flying nuisances buzz,
Drawing blood like Dracula.
Itchy, swollen, bumpy rash.
Musky tents, with patchwork holes,
Unzipped windows, with gentle breezes.

Pockets full of salmon colored lures,
Cooler packed with Coors Light.
Settled on a rotten log,
Bark scratches tender thighs.
Fire popped, and heat caressed warn souls..

Sharing toasts of years past,
Red Solo cups
Sloshing. Dripping. Spilling.
Our potent elixir causing giggles galore.
Drunks can’t remember,
    But I’ll never forget.
That steamy July evening,
Under the moon hazed sky.
  

Well, there you go! These were some of my master works... so to speak :) I may not get a "good" grade, but it sure made for a thoughtful first quarter. Boom.

QUOTES

www.tumblr.com

   I am all about quotes and uplifting messages. With more then a few hits to my life lately, I find the above to be very comforting. When something in your life goes a miss, and you find your self swimming in self pity, just remember it's just a mere moment in a long lifetime. I aim to be 100, so that's 864,000 hours more I have to make things right. Sure a day here and there, I know I will struggle, but I have so much time that isn't miserable, and I'm blessed. Friends, family, good grades, a job, those are some things other don't have. I understand any moment they can be taken away, but for now I'll bask in the love my life has brought me.

The Great Debate

  This morning, I'm tired and still highly frustrated. If anyone watched the debate last night, they agree. Election season is the worst, and a lot ride on your vote. We all make a difference, so if your 18, you better have your booty registered. If you don't vote, you better not complain. That's all there is to it.
WARNING SUBJECT MATTER LEANS TOWARDS THE VIEWS OF A LIBERAL DEMOCRAT!
You have been warned.
  Watching Mitt Romney and Obama debate last night was a Migraine. ( More so listening to Mitten's do his famous flip flopping, irked me.) If it wasn't the opponents obvious attempt to win back the 47%, It was the lack of either side touching on women's health issues. Literally, only one question touched on funding for Planned Parenthood, and strayed far, far, far away from abortion. Not that I believe abortion is a good discussion topic, but I'm just curious how Romney would have tried to smooth his view over. He claimed all campaign trail to being a conservative, but was just recently christening himself, Moderate Mitt. After talking about repealing Wade vs. Roe, there isn't much room to say, "Just Kidding." That's a freedom for women. I'm sure we could argue for days, is an embryo a person, but in the end it's YOUR CHOICE. I'm a Feminist, so that should tell you enough about my thoughts, but I know my best friend is a pro lifer. She doesn't judge me, I don't judge her. We have opposite ends of the spectrum views, but we understand as women, there are scenarios that abortion is understandable: rape, incest, very young age. So go ahead Romney, try to repeal Wade vs. Roe. Try.
  Another point to hit on, is Mitten's calling Obama out for his Rose Garden speech, claiming it never mention  him saying it was an act of terror. Well Mr.Governor, here's proof for your little lie.

"No acts of terror will ever shake the resolve of this great nation, alter that character, or eclipse the light of the values that we stand for.  Today we mourn four more Americans who represent the very best of the United States of America.  We will not waver in our commitment to see that justice is done for this terrible act.  And make no mistake, justice will be done." - Via Foxnews.com 
( Aren't you surprised Fox News has it?)

Hmmm, if he's lying about this important issue, I wonder what other little fibs he's been claiming. If you like facts, as much as I do. Check out this non biased fact site. You can see what both sides have been spewing incorrectly. I'll admit Obama isn't always truthful, but just see how many lies Mitt say's in comparison. Honestly, I hate politics. I don't like either president, but it's about choosing the lesser of two evil. I'll take my chances at having a less then perfect life for the next four years, over having a top 2%, Pell Grant stealing, anti-women's rights leader. Judge me, I love opinions. Feel free to share them, just know you can't sway mine. 

http://media2.govtech.com/images/ObamaRomneyTechPolicies.jpg

Bosses Day!

My Boss Josh, and I.

    Good morning readers!!! Most people don't know, but this week we celebrate a special holiday. On Tuesday, October 16th, it's... you guessed it... BOSSES DAY. It's the day we spend time to appreciate our superiors in the work place. Now, I understand some people may dislike their bosses, and that sucks to be you. For me, I was blessed with the best.
   The General Manager at my work is Josh, followed by two shift managers, Arron and Brittney. All there are amazing and what they do, and deserve applause, but today is about Josh. Hmmm.. where do I start.
Josh is someone who believes in second chances, and teaching people how to fix there mistakes, thus making you independent. With out his guidance, our restaurant would be in shambles. His flexibility in making shecuals, and his therapist skills make him less of a boss, more like a friend. I say that lightly, because he still gets the job done. I've seen Josh make 2,500 dollar orders, and not break a sweat. ( Doing the math, and large pizza costs 10$, 2,500/10= 250 pizza. 1 minute per pizza to make, would be 250 minutes/ 60 minutes = 4 hours) Hypothetically it should take Josh about 4 hours for that order. Well, with the quality staff he has, that order took a little over an hour. At Pizza Hut, we are all C.H.A.M.P.S. and know how to match speed to quality.
   Boss, Friend, Co-worker, leader, comedian, Josh does it all and more. I know you won't see this post Josh, but if you did, I'd just want you to know that you'll always be the best boss, no matter where I end up working! Also if for some reason you do find this page, please don't black mail me with the above picture :)
  Off to school everyone, have a wonderful Monday... If that is even possible?

Blackberry Green Tea

  Good Morning! I hope you all had a restful nights sleep. I finally did :) After the weekend I had, I'm basically running on fumes. Making a VERY cranky Rachel. Have you ever been so stressed you have nightmares or night time hallucinations? If so, may I say, creepiest thing ever. I could have sworn I saw a ghost last night, but common sense tells me in the manifestation of my sub conscience. The first two nights, it was a strange dream. Almost like having an out of body experience. That feeling woke me up in panic, only to realize I was alive in tact. The dreams stopped and last night I though I saw a figure standing in my room. It was a male with buzzed hair, and crooked teeth. Perhaps, the battle between fear and sanity plays out in my sleep. I'll never really know. Having WW3 sparking in my cranium, has lead me to the only cure.

http://ebid.s3.amazonaws.com

 

  Green tea. Not just regular, bland, green tea, but the Lipton brand with honey, and juicy blackberry. Yes, I already know tea has caffeine  and won't aid sleep. Trust me, it doesn't help. ( Unless you get a nice chamomile. mmmmm...) How it's working for me is by a simply reminding of happy times. When I drank tea while sun bathing on the beaches of Florida. Or I had a nice fruity cup after spring run. I drank Tea on the first day I blogged, and I will not stop. Delicious pale pink liquid, you turn my horrors back into dreams.

If you know any good brands I can try, please comment. I'm always looking for more goodies! Off to school I go. God help those who anger me on the Wednesday.

I'm 18, But Who Cares.

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   Today is my 18th birthday, and I am not celebrating. I don't want cake, I don't want presents, I just want to rewind the clock and pretend last night never happened.
  I'm trying hard not to turn this is into a rant, but that's about all I have to say. It all started yesterday before we went to the haunted house in Niles. My best friend (Angelle) and I were making caramel apples, enjoying a dreary fall afternoon. Our plans were to meet up with her Ex (Randal), my friend, a good friend (Tyler), and the girl Randal was interested in. If you know teenage drama, Angelle and Randal were predestined to but heads. Any time you throw a new girl in the picture, it goes to hell. Which it did, fast. They began to bicker, and I had a melt down. It was MY birthday, my 18th. I'd give the shirt of my back for ANYONE, even my enemies. Yet, these people I call my friends couldn't put up with one another for one night. I'm pretty sure I screamed a lot of foul language at them. Can you blame me? They calmed down enough after, that I pleasantly enjoyed the Scream Park. Which A) Was not scary. B) Was not worth 20$. So even that wasn't THAT amazing. I fell asleep in the car ride home, and woke groggily at Jon's house, David tapping on my windshield. Cranky and very sleepy, I got out to see my friend ignoring me, once again, even though he swore he wouldn't. Since his best friend Randal was here, he would have rather spent his time. Which was fine, but I wasn't going to sit there quietly. I confronted him on the ride to his house to get blankets, ( we were going camping.) He didn't take it well at all. He punched the steering wheel and preceded to call me a bi-polar b*#$!&.  What did I do to him? Nothing. I loved with a monster. One whose true colors shown when I needed his warmth most. Sobbing I jumped out of the car, and filled my hands with tears while I walked to Kelly's bowling alley. Eventually, he came back. He called me a few more hurtful things, explaining even though I was "ungrateful" and " mean", that we all have flaws. My brain, being full of love for this person, accepted it. When you care about someone, it doesn't matter how they treat you. You just crave every breath you take, will be filled with compassion. That every hug will heal the scars that your heart has to carry. He was my best guy friend, so I chose to try to finish the night off. After 15 minutes we were at the camping destination, my tears still flowing. It was like a broken faucet. I felt awkward and uncomfortable   To make matter's worse Randal's girl, started calling me weak and getting upset at me for being emotional. Well excuse me for having a heart. In this day in age, I guess numbness is respected. Being floored she and the others marched into the woods. Following behind, my crush held my hand tightly. Something was off. Very off.
   It was pouring and 40 degrees down by the river bend. Everyone but Angelle and I were setting up camp. We were cold, wet, and completely miserable. Trying to keep everyone happy, I kindly asked my crush's for his keys. With no issue, he gave it to me. The others yelling at me for being a wimp. Again, did everyone forget it was my birthday? Angelle and I walked up a long hill, just wanting to sleep. It was almost 2:30 a.m. and the past night I was up til dawn. My body was in crash mode.
  Once in the car, I called my friend, and asked if I could drive his car to take Angelle home. He was not listening and took it as "I'm stealing your car." I NEVER SAID THAT. I'd never take his car. Randal's girl ran up the hill and started banging like a mad man on the window. She was threatening us, saying she'd beat us up, and she'll call the cops if we drive off. I kept calm, but Angelle started to freak out. It's not normal for your so called friends to act like maniacs. So I don't blame her for starting to cry. My friend came up to the car next, also believing we were trying to steal it. First off, it wasn't turned on. Nor was I laying up right. So you readers tell me how I was stealing a car. I opened the door, and tried to talk to him, but he came in swinging. My mind screamed panic mode as I threw my phone to Angelle. I said call the cops, this was turning brutal. He was choking me and hitting my face, while trying to knock the phone out of her hand. At one point I bit his hand so hard he backed up, cringing. Leaping and sobbing, I ran away. Calling the police, until he again came after me. All hell had broken loose and I wasn't shocked. I can't say this boy hasn't done this before, I'd be lying.
  When then say on dumb infomercials and books about how abused people learn to except it, they weren't lying. You get use to being on edge, feeling like it's your fault, keeping the hurt to yourself. Not today. Not anymore. Angelle is my rock, and you don't mess with her. You can smash my head in, call me insults, but don't ever come after her. My friend calmed down, and I talked him out of his anger delirium. Just enough to take us home.
  Today I have a fat lip, and swollen eyes, and I haven't cried this much since my grandfather's funeral. I'm 18 today. So many years ago, my mother gave birth to a strong, beautiful, baby girl. 7 pounds, 3 ounces.
  Today I sit bruised and lethargic, waiting on that text I will never get. Excepting the grounding my parents gave me from not coming home earlier. And debating what life choices I made these 18 years that have put me here. Maybe I loved to strongly, with higher expectations than my reality would allow? Perhaps, I settled for less than my best? Nothing is certain anymore. Do I still have feelings for that boy? I'm too dazed and on pain meds to tell. To any girl out there, who has someone in their lives that is physically abusive. YOU DESERVE BETTER. You really do. I know that you love them. No one should ever doubt that. But love isn't reciprocated with black eyes, and scratches, and harsh insults. I am not perfect, readers. I'm just a young adult who believes in the good of people. If my parents don't press charges, I'm not sure what will happen to him. It'll take a lot to change my opinions. As for my friends, I'm disappointed, and I'll leave it at that. The taste of iron in my mouth is a constant reminder of who really deserves to be in my life.
Happy birthday to me.

Short and Sweet

   Hey readers! It's 6 a.m. in the morning and my body is just waking up. Half this entry I guarantee will be typed with both eyes shut, drooling on the keyboard. Just your average case of sleep blogging. Your most likely thinking, " why didn't you just write one last night?" To answer that fair question I was planning on it, but the next thing I knew, my 5 minute cat nap was a 2 a.m. snooze.  Lately, my sleep has been minimal.
By minimal I mean only a couple hours each night. For an insomniac I function quite well, but it's slowly spiraling down hill.
    For this post I'm going to keep it short and sweet. ( Mainly because I'm still in my PJ's and I have to be at school in less than an hour.) Also because there isn't much new to say. I've been in and out of the doctors lately, sucking up all my time for fun. It's been MRI here, blood test there, random medication somewhere new, it's all very stressful. They are yet to tell me the cause of my migraines, so if any viewers are in my boat, please comment and let me know your story. I'd appreciate to hear that I'm not alone.
  Well sorry to run, I still need to brew myself a cup of hot java and throw some clothes on. I promise next post will fill your find with wonder and awe, but for now, enjoy this picture from my childhood. It's worth a good laugh!

I will personally embarrass myself for my readers :) Keep in mine I have tons more of me and my friends (and fellow bloggers)

Munchkin Land

    Good-morning readers. It's a beautiful Sunday in Michigan, which has inspired me to write my first blog! The excitement is just radiating through your body, I know. For today's story, I'm going to take you back to last weekend. ( Only because this weekend I was bed ridden with the sniffles.)
   First off you need to know, how much I'm a scary movie fanatic. I just can't get enough of all those paranormal haunt videos, that make you feel fear in the pit of your gut. With saying that, I'm not as much of a fan of bloody gory scenes, with masked slashers, but realistic things like Ghosts. I say realistic, because I personally believe in ghosts,but if you don't I dare you to visit Frost Cemetery. This little Gem is found in the country side of an old town called Eau Claire. For me, it was a 20 minute drive, followed by a good 2 hour search to find the place. It's hidden off on a secluded dirt road. Not many people live on Brush Lake Rd, but the ones who do are questionable at best. I highly recommend you take a good amount of people, and scout out a get away plan ahead of time. Even with the best cell-phone networks like AT&T or Verizon, you will have NO service. That will immediately give you the creeps, hence why bigger number are safer.
  The story of this cemetery was the first thing that caught my interest. It was said back in late 1800's a priest who was the leader of the church killed two small children and buried them in the dense woods behind the church. As members of the congregation caught on, the priest made a drastic choice to hang himself from the bell tower. His body wasn't discovered til several days later. Different websites have said different things, but it's a possibility that the man killed more than just the two girls. The unofficial title of Munchkin Land, refers to the numerous sighting of children's spirits among the tomb stones, and in the over grown Elms. Besides the glimpses of spirits, there is a grave that glows a dim green color after dark. I, for one, can say that was sobering sight.
   Enough about the background, time for my personal account. We left at about quarter to midnight, in two vehicles. Chris and I took the lead in his Gold G6, with Jon and Angelle falling asleep in the back. Taking up the rear was Tyler's clunky pick up truck, with Julie taking shot gun. It took us about 20 minutes down an old highway to arrive at our destination... Or so Google maps said. Taking a left we ended up on a narrow road, taking us past a nicely kept golf course. Nothing struck me as evil, or haunted, except a light fog that hovered over the road. After a while, we reached the end, with no church or graveyard to be seen. We pulled over on the shoulder to regroup, thinking if we should just head home. For me, that was not an option. I urged Julie to look up the correct directions, and she found them within seconds. We sped back the way we came, and took a few odd turns later, we found the right road. All of us were apprehensive, but couldn't resist the temptation. Again, my car took the lead. We passed a camper parked next to a mausoleum, a house with flickering candles in the window, and finally a stretch of dark woods. We were almost there. Slowly Chris approached the church, all eyes turned to the left side. I let out a screech of fear, as I saw a little shadow crouching down in front of this decaying building. The car tires squealed as we sped past. Everyone was yelling explicit words, and trying not to make a mess in their pants. We were fully convinced we say a ghost child. We turned the corner and pulled a U-turn, hoping to see Tyler right behind us. Their truck was no where to be scene. I thought this was the end. All four of us were going to get killed in the country, and our parents would never have known where we were. Heading back to the church, we saw our lost friends. That had waited for us by the church. Honking the horn, we signaled them to continue on.
I remember Chris vividly shouting, " I'm a (insert cuss word here) man, but I'm terrified beyond all belief." We all were. After going about 80, down a pot hole covered road, we made it into town. Tyler put on his emergency lights, and let us pull beside him. We all discussed what we saw, and couldn't really find an explanation. Was it a human? If it was a human, why would it stand directly under the security camera? WE had more than enough questions. One this we didn't need to ask was, should we go home? Yes. It was time, to cuddle up with one another, and sleep off this nightmare.
  The car ride home was silent. Each person reflecting deeply on their own experience. For me the adventure confirmed every mythical day dream I could have conjured up. For the rest of the group, it was a re-evaluation of what is real. No one can say what we actually saw, but I know I personally will never be the same. With in the next few weeks before Halloween, I hope to return again. Maybe this next time, actually finding out if Munchkin Land is haunted or just a bunch of local teens lurking around a graveyard.

This picture is from, http://berrien.migenweb.net/Worship/FranklinChapel_andCemetery.jpg.

The above is a view of the church during day light. So, if you think this is spooky, I don't recommend going in the evening.

If you are looking for directions to Brush Lake Rd, Eau Claire.