"That quiche was delicious and - Harry Potter!"
Oh no, not him again, what a bother.
"What time should I pick you up to take you to - Harry Potter!"
Seriously? I suppose we'll pretend like he already got her.
"Did you finish chemistry and start your - Harry Potter!"
Oh, i wish we could just stop talking about that rotter.
"Do you mind getting the laundry for - Harry Potter!"
Umm, you know the clothes smell, we really otter.

This boy is worse than Peter Pan
He lives in my house and rides in my van!
My girls all adore him and his glasses
And the more he talks, the more he attracts the masses.

Whoever is this Dumbledore?
I really don't want to hear anymore.
Snape just looks like he's evil
All I know is he's causing upheaval.

Ron, that poor redhead
And Hermione that bossy big head.
Edward somehow got mixed in
And i hear he died in the end.

But I couldn't care less, please go away!
I will get rid of them all one day.
I know what must happen when I hear Potter,
I must become a pest control plotter!

This is the unedited version of our story. It tells you they how and they why so you can know who we are and why we did what we did. It has the parts that only people on the inside will see. If you want the shorter version, see the edited version.*

There were five of us.
(Five is such an oddly even number)
Freshman who grew up to be seniors
(You don't really understand till you've gone through it)

There was the oldest, the skinny one
(Who seemed like the youngest)
He was tall and awkward
(Worked in his Dad's shop and strong as an ox)

He was so quiet and shy
(I knew him last, but understood him best)
He only texted
(He was afraid we'd see his curly hair)

He was uncorrupted
(With secret dreams of married ***)
He was a lover
(Not mine, he was lover of his family)

Then there was the Latino
(He’s short, dark, good taste in music)
Amazing athletic talent
(Parkour was all he was big enough for)

A great friend
(Who was in love with my best friend)
Funny as hell
(I became "one of the guys" with him)

Romantic and gentle
(Exactly what my best friend needed)
Loyal and patient
(Their love was forbidden and everlasting)

Next came the little one
(My beautiful best friend in the whole world)
Obedient and but passionate
(Controlling mother, rebellious sister)

Younger than everyone
(But ahead of us in schoolwork)
Guileless and enchanting
(She’s my girl-crush, she’s everyone’s crush)

In love with the latino
(They ran away together for a weekend once)
The most bendable, changeable one
(Unpredictable and easily swayed)

Also there was the clown
(He was my clown, we belonged to each other)
Everyone’s friend, no one’s best friend
(Except mine. I could reach him deep down.)

Wannabe family man
(But he had no good examples)
Strangely perceptive
(But he couldn’t look past his selfish nose)

Always smiling
(But passively aggressive)
Ladies’ man
(They teased him about being gay)

And then there was me.
(How do I describe myself?)
Full of surprises
(That’s what they tell me)

Loud, rebellious, crazy
(I always say what I’m thinking)
Fearless, childish
(No one tells me what to do.)

Independent and devoted
(Never clingy, but “I love you” means forever)
Steady and never-changing, slightly judgmental
(I stood back and watched it unfold with tears and frowns)

That was us.
(Pretty easy to imagine?)
We were all connected, but also independent
(One on one, but a great group)

The boys fought
(They all can’t stand each other now)
Mostly over the little one
(She and I fought too, but it passed)

Then we fell apart.
(Gradually, till graduation)
We’re almost unrecognizable
(It’s lamentable but inevitable)

The tall one, the oldest
(He’s still embarrassed of his hair)
Got his first girlfriend
(Who ******* him and dumped him)

He befriended so many girls
(Like informal dating)
But secretly was dreaming of the little one
(She didn’t notice him at all, till now)

He’s leading his brother
(Down the same dangerous path)
And he doesn’t even know it
(I keep trying to tell him to stop)

The latino is mostly the same
(I haven’t talked to him for a few months now)
He doesn’t fight as much
(Mostly parties and works)

But he never got over the little one
(He couldn’t wait, but couldn’t give her up)
Now he just gets admirers
(Nobody makes him feel as important as she did)

He’ll grow out of high school
(Better than any of us, I think)
He already knows how to do life
(Perhaps he’s the luckiest of all of us)

The little one got so lost along the way
(So many nights, an almost-baby, getting high)
But I decided to stick around cuz she’s my best friend
(She slept with the clown, and he still makes me cry)

She’s already taking college classes
(Spanish and dance, to remind her of the latino)
She’s working with children
(Teaching them how not to make her mistakes)

Now she’s planning her life
(Getting married to the skinny one)
But she doesn’t seem happy
(There’s never going to be passion like there was)

The clown found himself friendless
(But not without girlfriends, lots of them)
He made a lot of dumb mistakes
(But kept them all a secret from everyone but me)

He still hangs around
(But we never talk anymore)
He parties and smokes
(I keep an eye on him, but he doesn’t know)

To hell with being good
(He doesn’t even pretend anymore)
At least he’s accepted his fate
(I wish we could still be friends)

And I’m lost too
(Though I’ve done none of these things)
I don’t party or drink or smoke or have ***
(It’s just kinda stupid and pointless if you ask me)

But I’m losing my religion
(I thought I was better than them, but I’m not)
Bad things have happened to me
(Stroke, death, sickness in the family)

I’m no better than my friends
(Though my body is clean, my heart is black)
I’m sad I’m no longer special
(But was I ever really different?)

And so we’re lost
(Am I the only one who sees it?)
Some are on the mend
(Or they look like they are)

But we made it through high school
(Who knew it would end like this?)
We got so messed up along the way though
(Was it really worth it?)

I drive home listening to Queen
(I’m a sucker for old music)
The clown showed me that one song
(I thought nothing of it at the time)

And I cry
(We are the champions)

I don’t have* any pressure to go sledding
Because I’m still afraid of falling on the ice
And you loved the snow

I don’t have to risk my life on icy back roads every day
On the pretense of returning your things
Just so I don’t have to wait 24 hours to see you

I don’t have an extra pair of your shoes under my bed
From when you accidentally left them there
You were always leaving your things around

I don’t have a second home to spend the day at
With open fields full of snow banks for fort-building
The house is gone and so are you

I don’t have a reason to build a snow-fort this year
No one cares to sleep in it, it’s too cold
You were that kind of crazy

I don’t have someone to bake cardamom cookies with
We both had sticky dough on our hands
And we washed them in the same sink at the same time

I don’t have a friend at the Christmas parties
Who can back up my wild stories about the week
And argue with me about the rules for card games

I don’t have a cuddle-buddy for watching movies
We never really got the chance to do that
We were always running off to get some alone time

I don’t have to hide when I’m changing out of my wet snowy clothes
Because you’re never going to walk in from the cold
And start changing your clothes too

I don’t have a fire in my hearth
But I’m sure there’s one in yours
I used to enjoy watching you make them with your dad

I don’t have any wet, *****, sandy puddles to clean up
Because you’ll never walk across my kitchen
And forget to take off your boots

I don’t have to walk around barefoot
Even if it means getting my socks wet
Because you’re not there to remind me with your calloused toes

I don’t have twice as many presents under the tree
Not because we ever exchanged gifts, we were too poor
But every present you received and loved made me happy too

I don’t have snow down my neck from the snowballs you threw
I don’t have wet globs of melting ice in my hair because you tackled me
I don’t have anyone to make tea for, because I don’t even like tea
I don’t have your countless little siblings to share my snacks with
I don’t have to make cooking mistakes because I can’t bring you baked oatmeal
I don’t have a built in heater to share the backseat with
I don’t have a hoodie I can pass back and forth between us
I don’t have a companion to go on long walks with
I don’t have a curious mind to share kissing ideas with
I don’t have a hand to hold when I’m about to fall down on the ice

I don’t have you

This is the time of year that makes me miss you
I start to notice the empty spaces in my life
And there are little things everywhere to remind me of you.

In a purple haze, you smoke a joint,
And death would be an improvement
At this point.

Phone calls laced with ****
With open arms like an old friend
Welcome death.

Grab anything breathing and **** it.
It would be so easy just now to
Kick the bucket.

Make out with a boy, he’s gay
All the while wishing you could
Pass away.

Decide to sleep around with the crazies
And wake up asking why you’re not
Pushing up daisies.

Betray me with more than a kiss
***** around one more time
And you’re swimming with the fish.

This is the shorter edited version of our story. It tells you the facts, but it doesn't tell you the why. It leaves a lot of blanks that you can fill in, so it could be about your own highschool experience. If you want to  know our story, read the unedited version.*

There were five of us.
Freshman who grew up to be seniors

There was the oldest, the skinny one
He was tall and awkward

He was so quiet and shy
He only texted

He was uncorrupted
He was a lover

Then there was the Latino
Amazing athletic talent

A great friend
Funny as hell

Romantic and gentle
Loyal and patient

Next came the little one
Obedient and but passionate

Younger than everyone
Guileless and enchanting

In love with the latino
The most bendable, changeable one

Also there was the clown
Everyone’s friend, no one’s best friend

Wannabe family man
Strangely perceptive

Always smiling
Ladies’ man

And then there was me.
Full of surprises

Loud, rebellious, crazy
Fearless, childish

Independent and devoted
Steady and never-changing, slightly judgmental

That was us.
We were all connected, but also independent

The boys fought
Mostly over the little one

Then we fell apart.
We’re almost unrecognizable

The tall one, the oldest
Got his first girlfriend

He befriended so many girls
But secretly was dreaming of the little one

He’s leading his brother
And he doesn’t even know it

The latino is mostly the same
He doesn’t fight as much

But he never got over the little one
Now he just gets admirers

He’ll grow out of high school
He already knows how to do life

The little one got so lost along the way
But I decided to stick around cuz she’s my best friend

She’s already taking college classes
She’s working with children

Now she’s planning her life
But she doesn’t seem happy

The clown found himself friendless
He made a lot of dumb mistakes

He still hangs around
He parties and smokes

To hell with being good
At least he’s accepted his fate

And I’m lost too
I don’t party or drink or smoke or have ***

But I’m losing my religion
Bad things have happened to me

I’m no better than my friends
I’m sad I’m no longer special

And so we’re lost
Some are on the mend

But we made it through high school
We got so messed up along the way though

I drive home listening to Queen
The clown showed me that one song

And I cry because we are the champions

By The Madman http://leb.net/gibran/works/madman/madman.html
In the silent hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my seven selves sat together and thus conversed in whispers:

First Self: Here, in this madman, I have dwelt all these years, with naught to do but renew his pain by day and recreate his sorrow by night. I can bear my fate no longer, and now I must rebel.

Second Self: Yours is a better lot than mine, brother, for it is given me to be this madman's joyous self. I laugh his laughter and sing his happy hours, and with thrice winged feet I dance his brighter thoughts. It is I that would rebel against my weary existence.

Third Self: And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming brand of wild passion and fantastic desires? It is I the love-sick self who would rebel against this madman.

Fourth Self: I, amongst you all, am the most miserable, for naught was given me but the odious hatred and destructive loathing. It is I, the tempest-like self, the one born in the black caves of Hell, who would protest against serving this madman.

Fifth Self: Nay, it is I, the thinking self, the fanciful self, the self of hunger and thirst, the one doomed to wander without rest in search of unknown things and things not yet created; it is I, not you, who would rebel.

Sixth Self: And I, the working self, the pitiful labourer, who, with patient hands, and longing eyes, fashion the days into images and give the formless elements new and eternal forms--it is I, the solitary one, who would rebel against this restless madman.

Seventh Self: How strange that you all would rebel against this man, because each and every one of you has a preordained fate to fulfil. Ah! could I but be like one of you, a self with a determined lot! But I have none, I am the do-nothing self, the one who sits in the dumb, empty nowhere and nowhen, when you are busy re-creating life. Is it you or I, neighbours, who should rebel?

When the seventh self thus spake the other six selves looked with pity upon him but said nothing more; and as the night grew deeper one after the other went to sleep enfolded with a new and happy submission.

But the seventh self remained watching and gazing at nothingness, which is behind all things.

Don't be like anybody else, it's boring.
Don't ever be predictable, it's dull.

Be arresting, absorbing, astonishing,
captivating, compelling,
enchanting, engaging, enthralling, exceptional,
fascinating,
gripping,
impulsive, intriguing,
magnetic,
refreshing, riveting, remarkable,
shocking, striking,
unpredictable,
and,
above all,
wonderful.

I am a turtle. But not really.
I have a bed on my back. In fact, I have my entire home on my back. It’s heavy and digging into my shoulders, quite painfully.

I am a turtle. But not really.
I am covered in green. My clothes are green. My face is green. Even my hair and hat are green. It’s an ugly shade, but it makes me nearly invisible.

I am a turtle. But not really.
So slow… so incredibly slow. I am crawling along, plodding, fighting my way through the underbrush. Even the bugs are faster than I am. I wade through waist-deep muddy and stagnant waters.

I am a turtle. But not really.
Everything around me is so big. Compared to the forest, the ‘copters, the world, I am invisible. No one can see a turtle down below, so small.

I am a turtle. But not really.
When danger comes, I drop to the ground and fold up, real tight. I pull my arms and legs and head into my plastic shell. To hide from the shells.

I am a turtle. But not really.

The things that shock me are the things that look like one thing,
And I'm firmly convinced they are that one thing,
And then, in the last sentence, I discover with 100% certainty
That they are something completely different.

You shocked me. And I loved it

I used to think we built this monument
To tell the world that we are free
To remind that we will always be here
To prove them wrong every time

It was an edifice of victory
An architecture of glory
An ode to the young and heartless
That would speak of our love forever

I see we built for other purposes
It was built to remind you
And help you to remember us
Without it, you knew you would forget

That’s why you made it
You were planning for the day
You wouldn’t remember me
Like Peter Pan, you were afraid to forget

We constructed a memorial
A shrine, not a work of art
This edifice is my gravestone
I helped you make it, not knowing

I’m so glad we made it
I look at it every single day
Though I never forget a thing
It’s made for you, not me

The world may see it and wonder
Children may play on it and never know
But you will know and be reminded
Because this monument tells our story

I’d rather be wonderfully wicked
And frightfully fascinating
Than be piously perfect
And dreadfully dull

I could be reliably righteous
And boringly bland
But why? when I’m daringly devious
And curiously captivating

To be goodly godly
Or delightfully devilish
How about moaning monotony
To my sensuous ****?

Never curiously kind
Without poorly plain
Always sweetly sinister
And always attractive

To be good, one must
Want to be good

But why be good
When you can be bad?

The wind blows across dry ground
The leaves rustle all around
It’s cold and dreary and ever so dead
And lost are the beautiful colors that bled

I am still, I do not feel a thing
It’s so silent, my aching ears ring
One step I take and I feel a little
But it’s only for a moment, then it settles

Gray prevails in this ending world
The leaves are the only things wind unfurled
They sink ever lower to join their clan
Who cannot rise to every again land

The cold air burns my senses
The fight has lost all pretenses
It is going to **** everything I love
All because of dark skies above

If I tumbled into your arms
Now, after all this time
After all we’ve been through
I know we’d just fold together

Like two puzzle pieces
As naturally as breathing
Your familiar nooks and crannies
Would be all too familiar

Like a fish to water
I could slip right in
We’d fall into step and keep pace
It would be so easy

To pick up where we left off
And go on as if nothing happened
Three years erased like that
We’d just fall right in

I’d recognize every smell
And every corner as familiar as my own
You would feel so natural, so right
You’d be like home

I like to think I still know you
To believe I get it
But it’s harder from a distance
Up close, well, that’s different

We could go back, way back
I’d be so comfortable
No wasting time with “get to know ya’s”
We’re already like blood

You don’t just forget a person
Who knew you inside and out
There will always be a supernatural draw
Leading me back home

Close your ears and your eyes
Suddenly you know you can fly
I know autumn’s coming
I feel the atmosphere thrumming

It’s just a feeling in the air
Not tangible, but I know it’s there
It echoes in my nostrils
Touches my neck with lost thrills

The grass remains forest green
But at corners sickly brown is seen
My fingertips tingle against the land
The dying earth’s heroic last stand

It’s still warm as midsummer’s eve
But sunflower breezes take their leave
In their wake with all it can muster
Is a chilly rolling northern bluster

I gallop down the twisting street
A delicious scent and my own thumping feet
Invisible fingers caress my hair
It slaps at my face and arms bare.

Trees bend to earth to see what they may find
Dangerously near cracking, or is that my mind?
Leaves rustle, bows creak
Listen close to hear the weather speak

The sky is almost empty, it looks so still
For the moment it’s like a silence you must fill
Then the wind changes direction abruptly
And freezes my bones subtly

Is it right?
Or is it wrong?
I thought my resolve was strong

Knew what I thought
Thought what I knew
Was exactly what is said to be true

Never imagined
Never considered  .  .  .
That love is love is love unfettered

Now it's different
It's not sinful
Boys and girls - it's not that simple

It's heart
It's head
It's whoever makes your bed

Whatever works
Whatever lasts
Whatever it is that you can grasp

Nothing's worth it
Nothing matters
When everything in your life shatters

Come back
To the one
Who shares that thing that's never done

Hold tight
Don't roam
Because now you know, you've come home