brood (n) - to think alone.

dear god; bless this nation.
and watch over me.
and my family. 

acorss these states we must go.

for all those lost souls out there; this is goes out to you. 

guidepost for a solemn life.
1. when there's snow on the ground, and the dog is barking. and you hate this day. 
suck on your bottom lip. sometimes it hurts after sucking for so long; but it's guaranteed to hurt more than what you feel.
2. learn how to spell well. and speak grammatically. there's nothing better than speaking English correctly when you feel mad. (best to do in public to show everyone you're right and they're wrong.)
3. cut you're nails. cut them so short it hurts to type, or to bite. cut them so short you hate everything about them. 
4. open your window when it's winter. and have the heater running at the same time.
5. ---- call me and i'll tell you 5, and 6.
6.
7. stay in order. it proves you can do one thing right.
8. keep to yourself. keep to yourself when it comes to anything. and everything. keep to yourself when people ask you who you are.
reply and say. i don't know. they won't understand; but they will leave you to be. 
9. be honest in your thoughts. and write your thoughts down. don't be afraid if you sound like a bad human being - because in all reality. that's exactly who you are. so why try and pretend you're something when you're not.
chew on that for awhile.
10. look up, 100 most beautiful words in the English lanuage. 
use them.
11. always end on a sad note.

and sometimes say, dear God, help me.




just to inform you. i made a list of real humans.
you're not on there.
neither am i.
i only put one human on that list.
his name is, they boy who sits behind nathan in our math class.
he's tall. and plain. and linky. 
so naturally. i love this human more than anyone else i know.

alabama, arkansas, i do love my ma and pa.

sometimes. when people are trying to explain something to me. i don't even listen. i just pretend that i listen; which to me, is the same concept. because it's ok to pretend listen when you don't actually care. that's called being a friend. and friends talk to much i think. sometimes; i just want to grab them by the shoulders and shake them, and say, why do you talk so much. and then release them and leave. - that's my best quality. just walking away. 

one time i walked up to this kid and asked him if he does weed.
he shrugged and nodded.
i said. that's disappointing. and that means you're an idiot.
then i walked away.
(we're still friends so it's ok.)
 
an other time. some kid was flipping me off. ^ same kid.
i like him.
i said. Im not going to flip you off back. im better than that.
then i walked away.
(still friends.)
 
last night i was fighting with my dad. really hard.
and both our faces were getting red. and mad.
then i walked away.

today. my teacher was trying to yell at me. and i didn't care what she had to say. especially because she already signed my transer slip.
so i walked away.
-examples of sarah's best quality.
and ones that have occurred since friday night.

plus, i find it interesting that everyone in this WHOLE world is fake.
in one way or another. 
everyone at school pretends to be happy and normal and dumb-heads. why. though. why pretend. who are we all pretending for? i just think that there must be some award that will be passed out to the best pretend person. and everyone pretends not to know about it; even though everyone is running firm in this competition.
whatevereveryone.

plus. i already won. four years in a row. and my parents give me a pat on the head because i keep bringing home pretend awards.
examples.
grades.
"friends"
attitude.
surety.
whatevereveryone.

on a side note.
this is a poem. i wrote.

 ----
--screw---
---you---
----
suckthat.

no but really.
here.

the hearth of your heart
is shallow and cold.
while the moon paints;
you shutter,
your limp body.

nights encloses around you,
wolves tell their stories.
crying crying crying.
the quiet child speaks.
crying crying crying.

problems evolve. 
we are stunned. but not dead.
not dead. not.
dead.
the victor has no companion.
only the deep shades of blue.

time does not speak.
not dead. not dead.
the wind say their prayers.
the night sketches nightmares 
out for you.

crying crying crying.
dying dying dying.
your brow deepens.
while the call from hell reaches
your landline.

and the night has it's own nightmares.



there.there.
sarah.


You're a damn good read
I think we'd all agree
that there is not a word in any verse 
that you do not exceed

So all I think that's left to say
Is you're not half bad, hell, you're okay
To me

ok, ok. i know what you're thinking.

you: you know something, you're pretty.
really pretty.
me: i'm a girl.
girls are pretty.
you: no, you're more than just a girl.
i blinked. 
and stopped the thoughts that you were fond of me.
-thanks, you're pretty too.







here's the thing. 
you can call me, the-girl-with-ten-fingers-and-likes-nothing.

and i'll tell you we should be in love. 
and that's how our life will start.
we will buy a dog, and name him sandwich. you will have to promise me you won't die. 
and i will promise to die. 
i'll write sad songs with no meaning, and hum them to you while you are in the garage fixing our bikes. 
we'll hold hands and dig big holes.
i'll put away the dishes and wash my hair. we can count the seconds pass while searching for our love.
but we will find our love, because we just stored it away for the winter. 
my hands wont get dry, because you'll hold them to your face while you tell of your dead brother. 
we'll have children and name the west and forest. and if they are girls, we'll teach them how to be lady like. and we will be hypocrites.
our dog, sandwich will die. and you'll bury him deep deep into the soil, and in the summer i will plant flowers over his body. 
our children will leave us, and we will fill books of regrets and continue our steady belief in hypocrisy.
slowly, my hands will be dry; and full of old skin. slowly i will die. and you will bury me deep deep into the soil. and you'll plant flowers over my body. 
you'll bind the books of my regrets, with a strong strong leather and promise to never die. 
you continue hum my old songs while you're in the garage fixing our old bikes. 
you'll put away the dishes, and our love for the winter; and build pretty fires.
you'll keep your promise, just like you said. because you knew, dying isn't a matter of breathing.
it's a matter of living. and living was our life style.

we have a new perspective.

you told me that we could be in love.

i told you that i wanted you to love me.

we agreed on love.

you asked me if i like hugs. 

i said, i dont know. 

i said, you probably love hugs.

and fall time.

and hot chocolate.

and cold noses.

but not cold noses when they get runny. 

you probably love hearing people laugh.

or when someone are smiling so big you can hear it in their voice over the phone. 

you said, exactly, how did you know.

 i just said everything i like. 

we like the same stuff.

we are one human. 

hey, i need your attention.

heads up.
im changing my blog:
loveandpoemsduringthisfallweather.blogspot.com
funny how i think people read this  thing.

after the pen ink is everywhere.

 

and the gun shoots.

my eyes blink.

my knuckles crack.

my heart is drained.

i lost my love.

i lost my way.

i lost my trust.

i've lost you; even.

i've lost my voice.

i lost myself.

my heater is running.

my head is hurting.

my braids are tangled.

the medication is gone. 

and all i can unmanageably say.

is nothing. 

Maybe she's just trying to have fawn?

you know something.

sometimes i wish no one was good at anything. and we were all the same.
or.. or i was just the best at everything.
either will do.

the irony did not escape me.
-sarah.
i knew you would be gone fur a while.

hey; welcome.

the other day, i was sitting on the bus. and i was thinking; as usual. except for i was thinking about something out of the usual. i was thinking about other humans. and i know that is vague, but that is what i was thinking about. there was a sign that said, stolen chocolate lab. and it had the information and description listed below. i thought, why would someone want to steal a chocolate lab? that never really happens. people just don't steal dogs, only on movies they do that. like air bud. was the dog really stolen, or were the owners just mistaken? did they not want to admit that they dog could have just run away? i wonder who the owner's were. i considered calling them, and telling them i think i might have their dog. and then i would meet them; but that would be rude, because i don't really have their dog. i guess that would also be a lie. i wonder if the owners had little kids. and the dog and the kids were best chums. also, i was thinking about a boy in my neighborhood. his mom and me are friends. she said, you know i think the problem he has is he thinks too much. and too deep. but he said he though you were cool. then that got my thinking; me and that boy are the same. i think too much. and too deep; and then when i say something, people don't know how to respond, because it's too deep for them. or they just don't understand. i wanted to walk up to that boy and say, "hey, you know something. you and me got the same problem. we think too much." probably at this point he would conclude i have some physiological problems. but i just want him to know we are the same. but i can never do that, because i have to walk home with this girl from my neighborhood. and the boy walks in front of us. sometimes i wonder if he is listening to what we are saying.
and on a quick note.
on friday, i had fun. and it was real fun; fun that i haven't had for a long long time. when i came home, i just sat on my bed and thought about the night. how it all played out. i was so happy. i asked this boy if we were in love.
i think he heard, but pretended not to.
that was a smart move.
- soon, i will write a real blog post. probably. 
sarah. 

september10.

my name is sarah thueson and this is how i see the world and this is how i think. i am fifteen years old, and i go to high school. which is hard. mostly because i forgot how to make friends. and because i feel my skin has somehow become itchy. like a full body sweater, that is itchy. i like having pencils with a flat eraser though; i guess i like that about school. it's september now. fall. almost winter. almost time to wear scarves. fall makes me happy. it makes me happy to wake up, mostly because i sleep with my window open, so when i wake up, its freezing and smells like morning time. and i  wear a blanket around my shoulders. i just really like fall. plus, i think fall would be the best season to write a book in. i thought about becoming friends with some of my teachers, maybe with my art teacher; mrs. shepard or shep. is what i call her. but then i remembered i don't know how to make friends. mostly i just feel shy, and depressed. and timid. mostly  i think i may be insecure. i hate that thought. so i try and not think it. which is not going so well. i think, i  think too much. maybe its just time to stop thinking, and stand back, and watch. watch the time pass, the day end. the world make history. it's time to watch. but just watching scares me. because i don't know how to do that and i don't like to try new things. so. that's that. a kid friend (i like to say that. because it's true. we're kids, and we're friends.) a kid friend of mine, Bryce, committed suicide two weeks before school started. i guess he was scared to start school. maybe that's why. i wish i knew. i wish i knew everything. but i think it might be bad to wish so much. i will try to stop wishing. and thinking. but i just really like to think about Bryce. but then i get very sad. but i still think about him. he deserves to be thought about. he really does. but when i was thinking about Bryce on friday i got really sad. the saddest i've been for a very long time. sometimes i like to be sad. like right today. some kids were laughing in class. not me. i wasn't laughing. today i wanted to be sad. so on friday when i was thinking about Bryce, and when i got very sad; i went to "bed." at 5 pm. i just stayed there, cried till 11 pm. not like a hurt cry. but a panicky cry. one that has no end. that's why i cried for so long.  i wanted to make myself some tea, but i was too scared to go upstairs and get it, because then my mom might ask me to talk about "things." and i don't like to to talk about "things." also, today at school. i wanted to tell this boy to go to hell. i almost did. but i decided not to. i can't remember why i decided not to. but that was that. 

ps. i sleep with my lights on. and when i wake up it's around three in the morning and then, i get up. and turn them off. i don't know why i do this. i just do. 

i don't know why im telling you this.

pps. i think tomorrow i will wear my red hat to school. i hope that the popular girls will hate me because i wear hats to school. and because only boys do that. i would like that for some reason.

^mythoughtprocessinwhichilivein.

andilikeit.

my heart is solemn this day, and forever days ahead.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft star-shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

-Mary Elizabeth Frye.

check mate.

i dare you to ask me how hard core i mosh pitted.

i dare you to ask me how i danced when i was mosh pitting. 

i dare you to ask me if i care that you think im a douche. 

i'veflippedyouoffmultipletimebehindyourback,youknow. 

i'mshaftingyou,youknow.

ah, the glory.

There is so much more to lose when my love is real.

dude,same. 

dear God, watch over him.

tuesday, august 7, 2012

9:05 pm. 

i heard, i heard the news. my mom made me promise not to freak out, that i would talk about it. it was hard to promise something i didn't know how i would react to. 

my body went numb. and hot. my fingers were trembling. my eyes had a sheet thrown in front of them, i couldn't see. 

"how?"     "how?"       is all i wanted to know. "how" is all i could say.  

dad answered. 

i bit my lip. no. that is not true, you're lying. i fought back the tears, i fought so hard, i couldn't swallow because of the sick lump in my throat. i hated that lump. i hated everything. i hated that picture above the mantel. i hated the piece of plastic i had been chewing on for the last half hour. i hated the news. i hated the way my hands looked when the color had drained out of them. crying, i managed to whimper, 

"can we go back." "i just want to go back and be with everyone. i want to go the meeting... will they wait for me?"

i was two hours away from my home, two silent, dead, hours away from the meeting. i need to go. i had to. 

"dad, can we just go?"

"sarah, we need to figure this out, we will leave, but you might not make it back in time for the meeting." 

- my mom answered.

"ok, lets go now. lets go now." 

my mom and dad talked, talked over the situation, talked about the rest of the family, who to tell, who to keep the information from. they talked about which car to take, the fastest way home. i grabbed my single bag, threw it in the car, and waited. 

we drove. we drove, while my mom tried to make conversation with me, but i was crying. i felt ashamed i was crying. i didn't want to talk when i was crying, so i didn't. two hours. hating every minute waisted. waisted on bloody stop lights, on slow drivers. waisted on all the construction, on all the people cutting us off. i wanted to reach out the window, giving the world the finger, yelling, "you don't even know what's going on, you don't know what's just happened." i wanted everyone gone. i hated everything. i hated that little sound that was being made by the silent CD player. i hated the bumpy road, i hated my tears.

the car stopped. i got out and ran. i ran for her. the crowd of people walking stared, but they knew who i was after. it was almost too dark to see faces, but they were all familiar, i knew them, for i had grown up with them. i reached her, grabbing her around the neck, crying and gasping, "i just drove all the way from mid-way to be here." 

she knew who i was. 

we cried, holding each other, rocking back and fourth. people passing, understanding. we didn't care about the stares, because they knew our pain. they're pain, was shared and fed by our pain. 

holing each other we walked. we walked to his house, the house that me, and her, and him played video games at, just last Saturday. her and me, in our sweats. but he didn't care. 

the crowd of people gathered around his house, many holding hands. the ones who could, sang, "I am a child of God." tribute to him. i just sobbed. my voice seemed broken and inappropriate. she sang though, she sang to him. he was closer to her, than me. 

we gathered back, at her house, and wrote letters, tender words and memories. we painted a mural. full of everything about him. groups left, and one by one the house was left still. i refused to return home, i needed and wanted to be here with her. we prayed with her family. asking God, to bless him, and his family. blessing us, with comfort. 

we went down stairs, we talked and share more memories, regrets, possibilities. we shared it all. soon, it was 2 am. the time for sleep is now. we laid down, the pounding, sickening, throbbing headache took hours to leave. i had become physically ill with shock of this cruel realization.  

"pray for us?"     she asked. 

"sure."

i prayed, my best prayer.

we laid there, every hour or so, asking the other if they were yet asleep. hours passed and sleep took place. the night was over, but the nightmare continues. 

in memory of bryce. 

God be with you till we meet again.  

my heart is solemn and empty this day. and forever days ahead. 

the greens from your eyes have melted away.

solemn and reverent,
we speak.
our eyes, touch.
our hands fumble.
is this what you call love?
the dark springs,
the warm falls.
our warmth fades.
our skin became like prunes.
desolation, and pity
shot the stars down.
my collar bone,
collected the stars.
feeding them; with my
crocodile tears.
during the mid-night,
we swam in the lake.
with all beauty
your silver voice,
fills the moon with color.
tall grass, and dry days.
we communicate.