the silent confessions of your average teenager

Second.

This is a short realization and I thought it would be nice to share. It's not my best work, but it's what I've got to say today.
•

" She's Mrs. Blue,
Reigns so true,
Darker than you've ever seen.

She walks at night,
I'm scared alright,
You know what I mean.

She's been in my mind,
Since before time,
She's the only thing I know.

But now I think,
You need to know,
And Ill set free.

So stay up with me,
I can tell you what I've seen.
So stay up with me,
Set me free.

If you love me,
Stay up with me."

-a.m, Mrs. Blue.

-

A Land Before Time

Finding the reason why I love something is very peculiar. My favorite book is Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. My favorite character is Oscar; a complicated, odd, and emotionally challenged little boy that somehow still loves even though most time he doesn't know it himself. It wasn't until I sat alone, wondering where I left my copy I realized...I may love Oscar because I am Oscar.

Sure my father never died on 9/11, and I was never sent to explore the city with free will. But that's not what matters.

We wonder of death, we wander the lines of sanity often times, and we think. We think and we think and we hope we can find the lock that fits our key. For months that's all we know of. To stretch our time of oblivion and not realize that a part of us is gone. If the sun bursted and ceased to be the sun, we wouldn't know for a full 8 minutes, because It takes 8 minutes for light to travel to earth. I don't know if I'm still stretching my eight minutes, or if I've realized that the atmosphere is burning and it is the end. All I know is I don't know if I can handle the thought of my fears. When they face me I cover my ears with my hands, and I try to distract myself with my favorite melodies. But how long will it be until my arms get tired? How long until I realize that the sound is still rushing between my fingers and what I am doing is just prolonging the inevitable?

But most of all, how do I know? We can all observe others, we can all tell others to change a negative part of themselves, but can we all reciprocate it and point the finger at ourselves?

For a long time Oscar couldn't. And I don't think I can either. We're both too stubborn and too sad. We think too much about the end of the expedition and not enough about what people tell us during it. It's a flaw, but fatality does not involve it. It's merely a crack in the glass; when we lie on it it shatters. Finally, the shards have entered us and made us bleed what we'd love to keep to ourselves. What results is realization. I don't think the pain that will run through me will come from the thousand pin pricks, but the cost of knowing. It will be the consequence of waiting too long, but feeling like the wait wasn't long enough. I won't mind, though. I'd rather realize that the lock Ive been looking for to fit my key is not mine, then realize that it was. If it was, what will I do?

Nothing. Nothing will follow the feeling of knowing if it did. I'm one to keep things to myself and I know if that lock fit my key i would find myself in another swirl of self loathing. I'd rather deal with the pull of shards being taken out my spine then deal with those thoughts one more time.

I don't have a mother to meet strangers before I do, and I don't have a grandfather to silently follow me like a shadow. I don't think I ever will. Because at the end of the day, Oscar accomplished what he set out to do without their help. They were merely bystanders to the operation. But also, they helped him finally find the courage to let go. I worry I will never be able to do that.

Whether I'm Alice, or Oscar I'm always the same inside. I'm looking for why. Sometimes why isn't pretty, or what you set out to be. But it's the answer to your questions, and I feel like that's what I need. Whether it's shards in my back or the mud on my dress, imagination crafts my exsistance.

So if you were to ask me if my 8 minutes were up, I'd probably say no. Its very hot, but atmosphere isn't melting yet. For now I stand with the key around my neck, unknowing. Yet somehow I feel what is coming....

whatever it is.