the magnolia was a bit of a *******
(as far as trees can be *******)
and like very many other things—
like japanese candy from the Fugi Mart in Greenwich
                                      (across from the McDonald’s and next to
                                             the music shop where I got my viola)
and like pokemon cards and nintendo gaming systems
and like Avril Lavigne’s “Sk8er Boi” on a pink CD in a Hello Kitty radio
—that ******* of a magnolia was a distinctive taste
of the years I spent growing up in my house at the end of Wyndover Lane.

the ******* thing was almost perpetually in bloom.

it barged into both spring and autumn
(it didn’t give a **** about timing)
those pink and white spongy petals padding the ground
and at first you think it’s ******* beautiful
sitting in the crook of the trunk where it split into
                                                                two large
                                                       separate branches
tilting your chin back to catch a glimpse of blue between fat blossoms

then the petals start rotting
water-retentive little *******
and you can’t sweep ‘em away because they stick to the patio
brown clumps slipping under rubber soles
my dad lets loose a string of curses
and the magnolia shakes with laughter

I tried pressing the petals in a notebook once
while I was in that naturalist phase it seems all little girls go through
when you make fairy houses out of bark in the backyard
and put flowers between the pages of books because it feels
oh-so-much-more significant
than picking a pretty thing and showing it to mom

but the magnolia seeped through my spiral ring
and when I opened it up a month later they were dry tan papery things
not at all velveteen and rosy
and there were garish pink bloodstains all through the ten pages
on either side
magnolias don’t preserve well
except, honestly they do don’t they

then of course there’s that childhood tragedy that everyone has
when your dog got hit by some soccer mom’s suburban
or your teddy bear was lost in an airport
or maybe you just liked to cry because some things
were just really worth the tears at the time

but when I came home and found out they cut down my ******* ******* of a magnolia

I bawled

there wasn’t
even
a
stump.

I'm 12 and I've been reading for 352 days straight and I have no interest in the people around me and why should I?
I'm 14 in this one and my sheets have polka dots on them and my pillow is Avril Lavigne's face and I'm thinking about the girl at school with pink hair and slow penmanship.
When I'm 16 you are 15 and holding my hand and I'm asking about french homework and trying not to focus on the movement of your thumb around mine which is not friendship.
This time I'm 21 and your thick bones outline my thin and I like this small feeling.

I used to be Bruno Mars, you can COUNT ON ME
I used to be Ed Sheeran who'll be there 'til we're 70
I was Avril Lavigne who said I LOVE YOU
But not All Time Low, I ain't MISSING YOU

I'm Against the Current, burning a little BRIGHTER
Like Bleachers, I WANNA GET BETTER
Like Big Time Rush, I'm HALFWAY THERE
Like Taylor Swift, WE ARE NEVER EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER

Uh huh, life's like this
Uh huh, uh huh, that's the way it is
'Cause life's like this
Uh huh, uh huh that's the way it is

Chill out, what you yellin' for?
Lay back, it's all been done before
And if you could only let it be
You will see
I like you the way you are
When we're drivin' in your car
And you're talking to me one on one
But you've become...

Somebody else 'round everyone else
You're watching your back like you can't relax
You're tryin' to be cool
You look like a fool to me
Tell me

Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?
I see the way you're acting like you're somebody else
Gets me frustrated
Life's like this
You, you fall and you crawl and you break
And you take what you get and you turn it into honesty
You promised me I'm never gonna find you fake it
No, no, no

You come over unannounced
Dressed up like you're somethin' else
Where you are ain't where it's at
You see you're making me laugh out
When you strike your pose
Take off all your preppy clothes
You know you're not fooling anyone
When you've become...

Somebody else 'round everyone else
You're watchin' your back like you can't relax
You're tryin' to be cool
You look like a fool to me
Tell me

Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?
I see the way you're acting like you're somebody else
Gets me frustrated
Life's like this
You, you fall and you crawl and you break
And you take what you get and you turn it into honesty
You promised me I'm never gonna find you fake it
No, no, no

No, no, no
No, no, no
No, no, no

Chill out, what you yellin' for?
Lay back, it's all been done before
And if you could only let it be
You will see...

Somebody else 'round everyone else
You're watching your back like you can't relax
You're trying to be cool,
You look like a fool to me
Tell me

Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?
I see the way you're acting like you're somebody else
Gets me frustrated
Life's like this
You, you fall and you crawl and you break
And you take what you get and you turn it into honesty
You promised me I'm never gonna find you fake it
No no

Why do you have to go and make things so complicated? (yeah, yeah)
I see the way you're acting like you're somebody else
Gets me frustrated
Life's like this
You, you fall and you crawl and you break
And you take what you get and you turn it into honesty
You promised me I'm never gonna find you fake it
No no no

2016 Museum of Modern Art Party in the Garden - Inside
Vera Ellen **** is an American fashion designer who is mostly known for her dresses. But most do not know that she started out with a higher education at Sarah Lawrence College.

She had a bachelor degree in art history. The founder of Vera **** Bridal House has become one of the most successful entrepreneurs. She was able to fulfill her dreams with a college degree. She is one of the world's most successful business tycoons that learned about entrepreneurship. If you want to have a degree in design or fashion, and at the same time explore business, then following Vera ****'s career path might be something you can consider. According to Rasmussen, **** has an estimated net worth of $115 million.

**** grew up with Chinese roots but she was born and raised in New York. She initially graduated from Chapin school in 1967 and then attended the University of Paris. Afterwards, she went to Sarah Lawrence College in Westchester County and took a degree in art history.

What many do not know is that she competed in the U.S. Figure Skating Championships. She was featured in Sports Illustrated, 1968 edition. When she did not make the cut for the US Olympics, she set her sights on fashion.

With her background in art, she entered Vogue as an editor immediately after graduating from Sarah Lawrence. She was the youngest editor in the publication. She moved on to Ralph Lauren 17 years later. At the age of 40, she became an independent bridal wear designer.

With her experience and education, she now works with renowned fashion designers and designs for the likes of Victoria Beckham, Ivanka Trump, Avril Lavigne and Kim Kardashian.

She does not limit her designs to wedding dresses alone. She also ventures into the realm of evening wear and retail.

Vera ****'s success stems from her love of fashion. To this day, she still enjoys skating though as a "multidimensional" sport.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses

It’s a “travel week” here in Georgia. I’m writing this on June 1st at the Atlanta airport. This morning Sunny’s flying in from Nebraska, Sophy from California, Lisa from New York and Anna from Oregon - all around noon. Charles put a hard-shell luggage carrier on the roof of the Navigator because he didn’t trust it to hold the luggage 4 girls could bring.

My parents left last Saturday for Warsaw to join “Doctors Without Borders.” Charles, Leong and I drove them to the airport and then we took Leong to “The Mad Italian” for the best steak & cheese sandwiches on this side of andromeda.

Sunday was a typical lake day. We tied off in our favorite cove and were quickly joined by everyone who could get on a boat. Imagine that Dunkirk movie - except this was a get together - with motorboats, sailboats, skiffs, pontoon boats and canoes all crowding the little bay.

Leong’s an avril lavigne - who knew? On Monday, I surprised her with something green - a trip to “Fun Galaxy” roller-skating rink. I made reservations for a “birthday party” and a group of 15 of us had the rink to ourselves all morning (and cake). I thought I was a skater but Leong’s legit. She says that in Macau you either skate on the street (rough terrain and dangerously between cars) or at one of several huge multisport pavilions where the rinks are cement and resemble our skateboard courses.

She’d never seen an air-conditioned, basketball-court-smooth-hardwood, disco-lit, rock concert sounding, American roller rink. It was love at first sight. She spins, does double lutzes, skates faster backwards than I can forwards, and the manager threatened to pull her off the floor for doing backflips (“There are liability issues,” he insisted.) She was also amazed because there was a built-in diner. At home, she said, you have to bring your own water and sometimes your own toilet paper (toilets are completely different in Asia - don’t get me started on THAT).

Yesterday, Leong, Kim and I were waiting for a Facetime call, to coordinate today’s arrivals.
Before that though, at my behest, Kim helped me ferret-out - Holmes & Watson like - the dire skinny on something, and we, as long time besties and co-conspirators, had a plan.
“Did you know Rob Chen was class valedictorian this year?” Kim asked the room.
“No!, congratulations Rob,” I said.
“Yea, Rob,” Leong echoed nonchalantly.
“We’re so proud of Rob.” Kim continues.
“But, you know,” I said seriously, “there are Rob haters out there. I understand it - he’s hateable,” I expand.
“ek,” Kim blurted, like a little bird, at Leong’s reaction as Leong gasps, “What.. Why?”
“Because he dresses ugly!” I explained.
Kim, unable to curb her excitement, squeaks out loud.
Leong looked at Kim, shocked, Kim was looking down and rocking with the effort of silence.
“That’s not enough REASON,” Leong blurts, “to hate someone!
Again, Leong looked to Kim for agreement and got none.
“I don’t hate YOU,” Leong says, turning on me.

There’s a moment of shocked silence.

“WOW.. wow,” I say, as Kim nervously snickered with glee.
“First of all,” I begin, between my own chuckles, a defense:
“I’m wearing a very **** black ensemble but not exactly dressed to go OUT, (Kim laugh-coughed) and SECOND,” I pause for drama-queen effect.
“YOU,” I say, turning my head significantly and accusingly, towards Leong, slightly askew for a better view, “seem to have quite a few hickies on your neck this morning.”
Kim can't stand it any more and squeals, full out, with delight.
“You, need,” Leong said, pausing just before she lunges at me playfully, to put her hand over my mouth, “to cut off THAT line,”
“I knew it.. I KNEW it!” I say, bobbing and turning my head away as Leong pins me with her body while still trying to mug me and we’re all howling with laughter now.
“Those are Rob Chen hickies! - I. KNEW. IT.”

The facetime ring interrupts us and Leong reluctantly lets me go to answer it.
We all sober as she moves to press “Accept.”
“Let me just loop-back to say,” I looked at Kim with elementary-dear-Watson satisfaction, and said to Leong, “you didn’t deny it,”
Leong blushes crimson as the call begins.

I’ve been thinking about you lately
Walking from my room to the kitchen reminds me of that time you chased me up my stairs
Back when my bedroom was the first one you could see from the top step
I fell instantly onto my floor covered in roses laughing until I cried
Breathing in the smell of peppermint reminds me of the candy canes you put on my
car each morning with notes telling me what you loved about me
Each one signed with a silly celebrity pen name- but I always knew it was you
I’ve been wondering about God lately
Only because I almost hope that heaven exists so that you’re happy
And your soul isn’t with your body freezing below the earth in this terrible winter weather
Rotting beneath my feet when I visit you
I would rather imagine you playing football with the angels
cheering on your brother and watching over your sisters from overhead
I’ve been dreaming about you lately
Avril lavigne lyrics play in my head as you and I dance to the song that was playing
The moment we met- I never understood what it meant to fall in love at first sight
but hearing you say my name like a the click of a lighter igniting a flame
Lit something within me and I needed to be with you
I feel you clutching my hands as I wake up sobbing to my 6am alarm clock
Pulling me back to the reality that youre gone
I’ve been talking about you lately
Hearing the words pour off my tongue about our memories like they did right after you died
Brings back the hurt and the confusion over who,where, what and why
Just like that god forsaken night when you left me
Whispering our memories to anyone who will listen
Has left me broken, breaking- remembering what it feels to lose everything
And speaking your name
You know- I haven’t said your full name since you’ve died
It almost sounds like a curse if it were to fall from my lips for the first time
I’ve been crying about you lately
I miss you- the way you would race around the hood of the truck to open the door for me
I miss you- the way you always seemed to know the right thing to say
I miss you- your lips touching my forehead after I failed at all I wanted to accomplish
I miss you- each and every day- even when I don’t say it- there’s not a day you don’t cross my mind
But lately it’s been all the time

That awkward moment
When your ****** gets a girl pregnant
And gets engaged.

And your just sitting drunk,
And ****** up,
On the floor of your old bedroom
In your parent’s house.
Listening to Avril Lavigne and Iron and Wine.

Just ****** up.

Theres just something about people
who can not give a **** that gives me chill's...
idk....
i recently watched videos on avril lavigne and like miley cyrus...
and like they dont a give a crap at all
...it's really intriguing
and i get kinda jealous
...because i wish i could be that way
life would be so much easier
just a tad bit more
i'd be a go getter
i'd be daring
and i feel like....that's who i want to be at the moment
but the moment wants me to stay right here
and kiss my life

unlike that avril lavigne song... mine's all about a drummer girl... and when i think of: oh, what's his name? the poet who cried himself to sleep after watching Liszt play and sway the female audience? matthew something... well, whatever his surname is... when it comes to admiring Liszt... i just slouch back into thinking about Liberace... great pianist: but an even greater con-artist: milked those ******* till the sun started dancing a sunset on the horizon.
        
            nicknames...
namely?
   i already ascribed
a pronoun for "it",
when i'm happy
she's *ms. amber,
   when i stunned
she's ("it" is still
    a her) amnesia:
odd how the world
went to the crapper,
as if the whole
of humanity
  sat on the throne
of thrones and
dumped all of this
into my head...
because i'd really
appreciate
   the position of
a- priori:
   yes, that's the:
without a prior to
explanation of things...
    can you even imagine
Marxism having
        began from Kant,
    rather than Hegel?
don't know -
   couldn't care less...
    and man uttered
as many maxims as
was eventually worth
merely an epitaph.

When I was younger  I listened
to Avril Lavigne on repeat   especially
during long summer months in Colombia
I thought I was  somehow edgy  
and I thought my love affair  was something
out of a book   something of a story
to be heard  in her music
But    it wasn’t
It was   sweaty   awkward   and false
something  full of little questions  
none of which had important answers
It was feeling   bad  for feeling good
And feeling good   cause it felt bad
It was too much    too soon

Little do I know
I've got to stay clean and let go
Past catches up
I'm just lock it up
Everyday is a battle
This is the last time I drink 3/4 of a bottle. Like my issues they poor down my throat. Time to swallow them because I'm scaring and hurting everybody. I don't work well with anyone because i get so ******* anxious. Tbis ain't good and mentally dangerous. But i rush home to my room and lay the **** down. Distracting my self with a song. By now i should all the words. too bad Nickelback I've got one objective. Stay faithful and stay clean. Don't mean to to hurt y'all. My thoughts of myself aren't good, god forbid I'm clean. Wait what do I need? I'm literally applying for a second job to get caught up and to stay busy. **** the world for ****** up my reality. **** anxiety all I do is listen to loud music and write about the ****** up issues. Not eating and struggling with sleeping. Not taking care of my body but I'm down to keep moving. Seems like I'm losing. Another song that is on my mind is kind of depressing. when your gone by Avirl Lavigne I'm caught up on the same thing. This is me ready to stay clean. I'm a mess, every persons regret. I'm a bottle it back up and jam it in the freezer. Because if i open again **** will get cold and cuts my go deeper.