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3.6k · Oct 2015
Why I Hate Labels
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
I hate labels.
so you may ask me why do you compulsively put words and purposes and dates and times on everything you have.
I hate labels but I love organization.
The problem with labels is they rarely tell the whole story.
Labels are short, just a snapshot of the essence that the thing or person boils down to
but I don’t believe anything can really be that simple.
Labels can make everything easier.
You get the main point, the thing that stands out, FAST.
but that’s like starting a story at it’s ******, you get no previous information and that high point that holds so much meaning if you've read the entire story turns flat.
A flat character doesn’t grow or change or feel all that much but they usually have a label.
Labels turn real multidimensional, complicated, interesting people into flat characters.
He is not gay.
She is not a cutter.
and He is not transgender.
They are real people and you cannot possibly fit a person into a single worded description of the thing that stands out about them or makes them different.  
That is not enough for me!
The gay guy likes ice cream and romantic comedies, he's afraid of commitment, that scar is from his own blade and he volunteers on Wednesdays.
The cutter is seventeen and she lives with her grandparents. Almost everybody shes loved has walked away.
She has hair the color of sand at the beach and she wants to work in security at the airport so she can finally have control over who leaves and who stays.
The transgender man never felt trapped in the wrong body, the world just told him that his body was wrong. He’s a freshman in college and nobody ever told him how hard it would be. He calls his mom every night because he knows she worries and he cares. He has skin the color of caramel and he desperately wants to get married.
I hope you now understand that a label is never never enough.
You could argue that I’m afraid of being defined and of defining others with just a word,
but if you ask me a fear of labels is a very legitimate, considerate, and justifiable fear to have.
Labels are simply not enough.
And that's why I hate labels.
3.1k · Oct 2015
Audition
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
I walked in on shaking legs
Hurry away my mind begs

But I decide to leap
Wishing I was sound asleep

Like that last step in the dark
Go ahead do it from the heart

I quietly begin my song,
With luck it will not last too long

After a slow beginning I grow and grow
I smile and soon somehow I know

Their faces are warm like a hot cup of tea
I know they see the improvement in me

They applaud and they smile
Now it’s time to wait for a while
Thank you. x
1.8k · Oct 2015
Rape Jokes
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
In my life I have never been *****, sexually assaulted, or catcalled
But your **** jokes make the spark inside of me grow to a raging fire.
Because although I have never been *****, sexually assaulted, or catcalled there is a nearly 1 in 5 chance that I will ***** in my lifetime.
Your **** jokes are not funny. Maybe you thought it was okay to say it Because you were with people who had never been *****. But maybe they just didn't tell you. Only 16% of rapes are reported to law enforcement. Your seemingly innocent joke may bring back memories they battle every day. Your **** joke puts the abrasive words right back into the attacker's mouth as they cut at the victim's skin. Your **** jokes have the power to remind  them of being blamed, of feeling completely helpless, of wanting to die. The words of your **** joke will undoubtedly bounce around in a victim's mind. Pushing each part of the brain until everything is happening over again.
Sometimes I have stayed silent when I heard a **** joke but from now on let it be known I won't stand for it. It's not just that **** jokes aren't funny but **** is not a joke. So next time the words of a **** joke come try to be let out, roll the sentence around on your tongue, close your lips, and remember that your joke isn't a joke to everyone
1.4k · Oct 2015
Break Out
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
Dear world,
    I have something I have been dying to tell you.

For some time I have known something about myself that most of you don’t.
        I know myself better now than I ever have before.

So I have decided to end my hiding.
to let myself live in the light from now on

I spent far too long wondering how you would react when I told you.
Now I know,
how you react is not my choice
it is yours alone
I am who I am
I cannot change and I don’t even want to
I am not ashamed
I am no longer afraid

Your acceptance and love is valuable
but I can stand on my own feet
and
when I my feet get tired and my legs grow weak
they will catch me.
I am loved
I am accepted
And love overcomes all.

So when finally break down the final wall of this cage and I tell you
***
Whether you choose to love me for me
or not
I will be okay
because
I am loved
I am accepted
and I am strong
We are strong and we are not going away

I am the same me
I will speak
I will be a voice for the voiceless
I will be me
and I will never be silent
This poem was written during my coming out process. The line of ****** is meant to be a place for any sort of confession or truth to be placed. For me it was, "that I am gay" but this line can chance for any person or situation. If you are working on coming out or anything else like that please feel free to use my poem if you would like. I would like to ask for credit of some sort if you repost. Thank you for reading. x
1.1k · Oct 2015
High School Poetry
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
Billy Collins said "high school is the place poetry goes to die."
I would have to disagree.
High school is monotonous and horrible
and awful and wonderful.
Some do not understand poetry and they may hate to read and write it
and poetry may not be written.
but does it have to be?
We are living high school poetry.
Poetry is exploding onto life's pages.
When else do we have the emotions that we have now?
every teenage love affair,
every essay,
every night of studying until we cannot stay awake,
every audition,
trying to find yourself over and over again,
the practices,
the tears,
and the accomplishments.
That is poetry.
We're busy, and may not write it,
but poetry is lived by us.
Poetry is feeling,
emotion,
something that matters,
jumping in the lake,
a late night meeting of friends,
staying home alone on Friday,
wondering if we are needed.
We're living our poems.
To let everybody else know all one needs to do is pick up a pen.
Thank you. x
912 · Oct 2015
Glue Gun Friday
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
Sometimes everything in real life can be going really great
but in your mind for some reason on a night when you're alone everything seems to be crumbling.

On a friday night like tonight.

When i went home and thought about the bonfire I was invited to
thought about friends
thought about how I had no idea what my relationship life was right now
thought about how it was so frustrating that I couldn't find my glue gun for weeks

binge watched tv

ate

put away clothes

found some pictures of myself, pictures of an insecure youth who hated her body more than anything in the world. a girl who cried. a girl who was disappointed that she didn't look like barbie now that she had become a teenager. a girl who wore a lot of makeup to look pretty and cover all her acne. it didn't cover the acne just gave her a little barrier from the world. A girl who wore push up bras and straightened her hair every day and sometimes wore a bow in it.  she hoped that boys would notice her or like her. A girl who was upset when they didn't. A girl who had no idea she liked other girls.

put on some lipstick, smeared on black eyeliner, patted on blue to my eyelids, put my hair in a cheerleader bow

tore apart two closets trying to find my ******* hot glue gun

more tv

thought about how i felt dehydrated
thought about the mess i made from looking for the hot glue gun
considered cleaning it up
considered texting someone

glue gun

glue gun
glue gun
glue gun
This poem details the crumbling and out of control feelings which can arise from one simple thing going wrong. This is written in my stream of consciousness and shows the obsession and fixation on the glue gun.
Thank you. x
904 · Oct 2015
When I Jumped
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
It was stupid.
Waves crashed and the wind was cold.
I shivered and i wanted to change my mind
could i back out now
I grabbed the hand next to me and we ran and we jumped
it was fast but slow
the air was cold for a second until the water hit.
there was no feeling
I was under the water
thinking was gone and my lungs did the talking screaming to my mind
“get up get out you
air, now, now”
i open my eyes and i can see black and blue and the water is over my head
the bubbles and curls and waves of the water break away as my head is pushed up.
i gasp at the air and fill my lungs with the hot gas of life.
my limbs and body have become weights
but i dont sink
I push my body through the water and it takes all the strength i have
when i reach the ladder I grasp with a hand i cannot feel i stand with my feet and the journey up that ladder takes two lifetimes
then i'm up
it is the coldest i have ever felt
I run and i breathe
you never know what being alive feels like until you feel like you are almost done being alive
it was very very stupid
suddenly everything was hot
air was hot
ground was hot
my skin
my eyes
my dripping wet hair
hot hot hot
hours passed of feeling hot and cold and  breathing
it's strange to think that something so stupid made me feel so strong
793 · Oct 2015
The Optimism and The Fear
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
Let people tell you that you will fail
Let them try to discourage you and then confuse them and continue to listen to your heart
If your heart says to take a chance maybe you should listen
You may end up a failure
But you may end up a success
Maybe you'll be poor or in over your head from college loan debt but at least you will know it's because you're going after your dream

Being ambitious is dangerous
Taking chances comes with risks
You can choose to play it safe And you can tell me that I should play it safe too
But I've never been much for safety
I've tried to never let the what if's rule my life
So you can give me your advice
but I'm going to take risks and take chances
It's going to be difficult and its going to be scary but I will do it
because my dreams are worth it

Saying no
Saying it won't work
Telling me to do something else
Will only make me push myself harder
Won't you feel silly when you see my dreams become reality after telling me they wouldn't

No it isn't realistic
The chance is slim and the world is full of competition
but the world needs dreamers
I will not be discouraged and I will keep going on
Whether I get what I want
or not
I will just keep going
I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try
Thank you. x
761 · Oct 2015
Singing Hypnosis
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
The music wrapped itself around us as
we sang and forgot.
The room had left us.
The paper copies danced away
and we forgot.
Simply perfect music flowed from us,
we were all there together
completely focused and completely mesmerized
and it happened again.
Thank you for reading. x
725 · Oct 2015
For Her
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
Don't wait for your prince oh princess
For he may never arrive
Get going and grow
Find things you don't know

Run princess run to places unknown
Don't look for your prince
Just look for your purpose
There’s got to be more to make it all worth it

Princess oh princess just listen to me follow your heart
And follow your dreams
Dare to be daring prove you are more
Than the poor little damsel that lives next door

Think princess think
You know all the answers
Shout, sing, share all that you know
Your mind is with you wherever you go

Oh princess be confident
Be all that you are
Love your outside and inside
Show you're a star

Oh princess you see
When all this is done
Your prince may have found you
But your self search is done
Thank you. x
702 · Oct 2015
Our Form
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
Our form is free
Think imagination
You are abstract
Art, subject in color
Bold
My life like no masterpiece
Painted through experiment by me
From here we paint passion
Demanding a mess
Thank You. x
551 · Oct 2015
Hands (Body Series)
Rachel Julia Oct 2015
my hands tell a story
of living.
a story of being happy, sad, hopeful, and hopeless.
my hands say where i’ve been
and hold the knowledge to where I will go.
my hands see the people I have touched,
the tears I wiped away, the things I grasped,
and those that I should have let go of.
my hands are big, dexterous, and strong.
they touch, type, and hold.
I have seen
the wonder my hands can create.
my hands mold, shape, and color.
they wear rings, polish,
dirt, sweat, bruises, cuts,
and scars.
my hands hold in every variation
a memory.
my hands know me.

— The End —