Paige 3d

To be a girl it means that you are frail, right?
That can’t possibly understand a thing
To be a girl it means you stay up day and night
Trying to get that big, shiny ring

But that’s not true, for a majority that is
We have a secret passed down from mother to daughter
The secret is that we pretend to be his
But our hearts belong to one and another

At age 6 being a girl meant you liked pink and played with dolls
But that changed
At age 8 being a girl meant you liked skirts, dresses, bows
That changed too
At age 10 being a girl meant that you were expected to have a crush & kiss him
If you didn’t, you were an outcast
At age 12 your interest in education was to diminish
By age 14 you realized that when a boy slapped your ass, you enjoyed it
And if you didn’t you were a lesbian
Ages 12-18 we as girls are told to not show shoulders, knees or skin of any kind because it might distract the boys
I never heard the guys being told to dress a certain way. Have you?
No? I didn’t think so because it might ruin their ego…

Being a girl means that you are blessed with self hate
It’s automatic and hard to lose
There is always an imperfection…

Being a girl means that even when it’s hot, you wear jeans and a baggy tee
So that you don’t have to deal with wondering eyes
Being a girl means that you must look your best ALWAYS or else you’re trash
But not too good or else you’re a slut looking for a good time

Being a girl means that you grow to hate yourself so much that you can’t even look at yourself
Unless you are in public, then you have to act vain

Being a girl means that you have to listen to guys calling you fake because you hate a girl but you’re friends with her the next day
What those guys don’t know is that she saved you from a situation that could’ve made you lose what little dignity you have left

Being a girl means that when you see a grown man starring at a baby… take that baby’s spot
If that means you have to be his princess, babygirl, WHATEVER, for the night
And when you are called a whore, slut the next day, just remember that you helped that child

Being a girl means that when you’re a mother and your little girl asks you why the boys at the school rate the girls on a scale of 1-10 you have to look at her with the same look your mother gave you and tell her,
That being a girl means that you have to be smart, that you have to work 2-3 jobs just to make the same as a guy with 1 job
      It’s not fair, but that is how it is.  

You have to hug your baby girl when she comes home and tells you that her teacher yelled at her for wearing a tanktop or when a boy touches her even when she told him to stop
To be be a girl means that your are strong
To be a girl means that you are resilient

To be a girl means that you have a secret that is passed down from mother to daughter
And that secret is Unity

I remember things like this happening to some of the strongest women I know...
I wish that I could also do it from a guy's p.o.v but I really can't relate to that

When the value of what
You might add in a conversation
Is the same of that of a dying sorrow
Share it with the lamenters and the widows
For the ones with our heads onward and ahead
Have little time for a useless need in our heads

Useless pricks are abundance in this world
But dears, the only things
that look good doing nothing are statues
And your looks would pass ignored by the greeks, french, romans, and even the barbarians

Please, do mind me, this is the simplest insult
For the ones that prefer to glue their asses
Watching life passing​ by and the world spinning through
If there's so little you can do
Why don't you do us a favor and fly off

Today I tried to remain as Zen as possible, but you know when you get home and all your barriers melt down and that ball of infuriating fire is still lighting but because of the exhaustion it looked as if it were running out the gas and what remained was the ashes that crept into my mind threatening to evolve into a migraine, well you do? I felt exactly that.

As the fierce soldier I am, I haggled off this reality with that of my subconscious and adventure myself in the depths of dreams. What a journey, I dreamt with verboten love and with abuse, cliffs and heights. What I can highlight and what bedazzled me the most was a peculiar scene: I was in front of a pizzeria and the family in charge was in the middle of a severe argument. The father was holding forcibly the wrists of the mother, this one cried and implored him to stop, while their kids cried and shrieked. In the outlook of my dream I had the pleasure of having subtitles! How crazy is that! the family was talking an indigenous language and I could read what they were talking. Thing was my mother got in the middle of the argument and asked for the kids to take them, as in being their savior. I red that the little baby was in the "highest mountain", the father kept repeating that they were obliged to go there. I decipher it as the highest room in the tall building. Upon arriving no kid was there and despair started consuming me and just THEN my mother woke me up.

What if I told you to get out of your head?
If I said humans don't love for methodical reasons.
Your husband is not won by quadratic formulas.
Put down your glossy magazines, they're rewriting who you are.

take off your clothes and be naked, be one with everything you are.
I'm not saying that everybody is beautiful. Of course, they're not!
The multi-billion dollar beauty industry wouldn't allow for that.
I'm saying everybody id here, and human, and present.

No anti-ageing cream can do that!

So shake off your insecurities about the world, for they're manufactured too!

Alex Hill Mar 27

My Senior English Research Paper Proposal:
I propose to talk about how society and school can affect the youth of America.
I propose to talk about how much we all don't want to talk about this.
How depression becomes common in teenagers and youth isn’t just an emotional problem- it’s societal one.
How we’re told to bury emotions, not to cry but to move on and play the game. But we only get so long before we realize it doesn’t mean anything.
Useless grades for a useless world.
Words that having no meaning besides the ones that we put behind them.
How we teach kids to be quick to laugh at the expense of others and take nothing serious because nothing matters- and how we do that without hesitation because everything matters.
How we bury everything so deep.
How that begins to hurt and overflow.
How we tell them it's all in their heads.
How they’ll outgrow it.
How we push kids to be older than they are.
How kids are shown limited paths in life when the world itself is limitless. It gives zero shits about how we live.
How kids out of fear and loneliness turn on each other.
How we are all so desperately looking for a connection in this world but draw closer in because people are dangerous and loneliness is safe.
How we are all selfish and eventually lose the ones we love.
How love is a concept and construct warped so far that we can’t perceive it any more yet we all desparetly are told to seek it out.
How loneliness can kill.
How the depression and suicide rates of kids sky rocket in high school because puberty hits and chemicals go wild and you wake up and see that you don’t have anyone who cares about you for you,
how your heroes are nothing more than fuck ups like you,
and how there is no point to anything but work and death.
How the point was supposed to be communication and other people, but we washed that out of system.
Stay quiet in class rooms. No passing notes. Ignore your neighbor. Be afraid of everyone on the buses. Loners look cooler. No one really cares about you.
And how that can kill someone, those three simple words:
“No one cares.”
And how we laugh about things that aren't funny, how apathetic we become and how we try to pretend we’re okay with that because if we don’t we’ll look weak.
How we as a society have turned kindness and caring into weakness.
How fucked up we all are.
Let's talk about that.

I was writing an English proposal which turned into a rant, which sorta turned into poetry. I'm tempted to keep it.

I’m angry at the world
For not playing fair
And then mocking me
When I do

I hate all the apathy
That stands and observes
And makes no attempt
To enforce the rules

I’m angry at all
That I have to give up
To wait for my turn
And take only my share

I hate that the meaning
Of good has been altered
To apply to group ethics
That are coated in shame

I’m angry to see
How the cheaters will win
And honesty comes
A poor second

I hate all the smugness
(Check Paul Ryan’s face)
And those who are like him
Cheating their way to their goal

I’m angry to be cursed
With the gene of fair play
Permanent - same as
The brown of my eyes

I hate that I have to
Spend so much time hating
Hate is an acid
Dissolving my soul

I need a good rant once in a while to clear my sinuses.  Rewriting the old saying:  Honesty pays - minimum wages.
One and Only Mar 24

I thought I could take it
and so I endured.
I thought I could make it
and so I went on.
Dismissing each thought
each farewell suggestion.
Little did I know
I was not that strong.

I've been good and I've been behaved.
I haven't had an idea like that for even more than days.
But somehow recently, I have been thinking,
planning once more,
my life which is fleeting.

I don't know why it's hard to tell others,
hard to tell those who you love and vice versa,
They tried asking when they seem to catch me,
but it doesn't seem that they take me seriously.
I'm just that extrovert who's had a bad day.
Doubtful it seems for me to wish myself away.
Some people have it worse and say I can't complain,
but this time it's different,
cause maybe you can handle it but this is my pain.

Stop calling me dumb,
Stop calling me intimidating,
Stop calling me walang hiya
please, stop calling me big,
It's not exactly a compliment,
so please stop saying it.
I thought you understood me
though maybe I'm at fault here,
for I could never show my feelings
as clear as my streaming tears.

I don't know how I can do this.. Most people seem to be fine leaving me alone.

I'm so sick of being told what I can and can't do.
"You can't do this, try this instead."
They aren't asking me; they're telling me.
I don't want to do that, I want to do what I said I wanted to do before.
Then I'm told that I am an ungrateful bitch, a spoilt brat, a miserable cow,
When in reality I'm not.
I'm not an"ungrateful bitch".
I'm not a "spoilt brat".
I'm not a "miserable cow".
I'm a strong, independent woman who knows what she wants, and is constantly told "no".

Sean Scribbles Mar 10

I need coffee
Before this coldness leaves my feet
Or the snowflakes fall any freer onto the city streets
I need such coffee inside of me
Because without it’s joy and prolonged warmth
I cannot be alive and well
Let alone this representation of me
So do not question before I wake
Just pour the coffee for goodness sake
And if I must make it myself
I will with a vengeance, a sleep induced will
Though once I’m awake I’ll wonder still
What dependency is this which I’ve built
The need to mix my water mixed with beans
Perhaps not the coffee, but it is the caffeine
Which gets me out and wakes me up
So that I might not feel asleep
As I am driving these winter roads
Saying dearest coffee would you please
Wake me so that I can feel at ease

Truth... Tired and average reflection... But truth!
Kendall K Mar 1

I realize that questioning your purpose is a part of life. But it breaks my heart to see so many teenagers and young adults, or really anybody for that matter, truly believe that they mean nothing—that they are nothing. One thing I’ve really begun to notice is how much light we lose from the time we’re very young, to the time we’re in highschool, to the time we’re elderly. Something in us just goes out. That spark dies.

But I don’t believe that. I don’t even believe it when I say it. How can a piece of ourselves just simply vanish? It doesn’t make sense.

I don’t think it’s gone. I think it’s just lost.

Remember those days as a kid growing up? And I’m not talking about the happy-go-lucky, hopscotch, high-fiving kind of days, nor am I talking about the sunny, swingset, sugary sweets kinds of days. I’m talking about those days where you truly felt alive. Those days where you had this empowering feeling of happiness and those days where you could honest to God look in the mirror and tell yourself, “I am living a life that I love.”

I don’t know about you, but I am willing to do anything to feel that hopeful and that invincible again. Even if it’s just for one day.

I think one of the biggest problems we all have as people is that we don’t know how to be equal. We don’t look at someone above us and strive to raise ourselves to that level. We strive to drag them down to ours. It’s like...human nature to compete. And that frustrates me. The question always seems to be, “What will everyone else say/think?” Not, “What do I think/want?”

And I think that’s a big reason why we see that shift in ourselves and our attitudes. We lose ourselves in everybody else. We don’t ever do what makes us happy, so we never feel happy. But who cares what anybody else has to say about it? Who cares what anybody else’s opinion is? You do what makes you feel fulfilled and whole and complete until you are fulfilled and whole and complete. And one day, you’ll wake up, and you’ll see that their words don’t mean anything. They never did. They never will.

And I hate that we as humans are so capable of tearing one another down. I hate that we have so much power and we use it in such a negative way. I hate that we learn so much from the hard times and so little from the good ones.

I just want people to remember these things when they feel sick to the stomach about life. Just because you lost something at the bottom of your bag, doesn’t mean it’s not there anymore. We all have a purpose. You just have to find it again. You may have to find it many times again.

But you are not nothing. You never were, and you never will be.

Ili Z Norizan Feb 23

I love how the buildings bathe in the morning sun,
The gold and glimmer of hope,
The shimmer and ray of what could,
And in the mirrored reflection,
Caught on windows and thresholds,
I saw myself smiling,
Like the bright-eyed child,
Full of promise and trust,
Not quite naïve but innocent,
Curious like a kitten,
Looking for a distraction,
In the forms of many kinds of fun,
Even if to others it was a bore of a chore,
For I was that girl who loved routine,
Knowing everything and that sense of the familiar,
Where nothing could surprise me,
And I would not be easily offended,
Taken aback was something I only started doing,
At the age of twenty-one,
Or was it really when I was so done,
With the fact that leaving high school,
Meant leaving the physical place in which I learned,
For the jocks and snobs and nerds and pretty girls,
They grew up too like me going on into reality,
Of the concrete jungle in the big city,
The capital of money and sobriety,
Where it's glitz and glam in grids on the Gram,
But the twittering said otherwise,
Oh how were we so blinded by the rise,
Of growing pains and pangs,
Falling in and out of love with ourselves,
As much as we crush upon potential lovers,
None of whom were suitors,
Just mere flings to keep us company,
While we ourselves figured out an escape,
For there's nothing more that we despise,
Than that of the lies, we keep telling ourselves,
That this life is the best,
That I'm happy where I'm at,
In this career or otherwise,
But still, we cry ourselves to sleep at night,
Sometimes sobbing during the day,
In bathroom stalls like ghouls,
Thinking what could've possibly gone wrong,
What'd I do to deserve such a test,
And how could I a top scoring geek fail miserably at best,
Yet we see it again this endless cycle,
As the sun paints a masterpiece in the sky,
Melting away all the tension of the day,
As it slowly dims then darken your way,
Telling you to go back to sleep,
To keep the dream alive,
For I do love how the sun paints the town gold,
Early in the morning,
When all is quiet and lonely,
A kind of peace that feels like it's not all bad,
This life could really be a sanctuary, maybe.


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