Jb Knows

A Teen Writer’s Trip to the Top

Add It All Up January 11, 2009

I love philosophy and the old cliches that are true in life.  When I am lost I rely on wise words to get me through. Some of my favorite cliches are those that involve knowledge, time or love. (“The good life is inspired by love and guided by knowledge.” Bertrand Russell).
Although on the surface I might appear shallow to others, I am usually motivated by the desire to have others go beyond trivial emotions and pains in life.  I try to base all of my decisions on logic and not on whim alone.  Sometimes, however, logic doesn’t even make it’s way into the equation.
I often try to control my surroundings in any way possible.  Generally, this does not work out and it leaves me feeling powerless and depressed.  When I feel insecure my sense of humor completely disappears.
I spend a good amount of my free time planning the future.  I have trouble with dwelling in the past and hoping for the future that I ignore the present.  I do not do my homework yet I’ll set there and research colleges.  The absolute pointlessness of it all make me laugh, but cry a little inside.  I could tell you more about Eastern Michigan University then I could tell you about the structure of cells or factoring an equation.

 

I Don’t Wan’t To Go Home (Part 1) January 10, 2009

This is an interview I conducted with my sister when I couldn’t fall asleep.

I think we should just burn all the AIDS people and start with a clean slate.  We should  burn the cancer people too…Oh wait, they’re not contagious.      Never mind.

Why don’t we just burn the Jews too?
Okay, sounds like fun.  We’ll make it a party.  I should make a scare-Jew.
Is it going to have or face on it?
No, Eric’s. Now he’s going to kill me.
Like you killed AIDS, cancer and Jews?
I think I’ll kill Christians too. And Muslims and Catholics.
Catholics are Christians.
Everyone except Levain Satanist and atheists.
What about agnostics?
Screw them, they think God might exist.
And Satanists worship Satan?
No, they don’t.  Well some don’t.  They just like the name Satanists because it scares the  crap out of people.  They basically think everyone is their own god.      And will do basically anything for their friend’s happiness.
What about family?
Phh.  Like I said anything that makes us happy, not family.  You can all die for all I care.  Actually, that would make me happy.
What do you think about science?
What kind of science?  The human body? Awesome.  Dead things?  Awesome.  Science fiction is awesome.  The math part sucks.
What about basic biology, ie evolution?
(Starts sighing) ‘Evolution is a mystery’.  I don’t know anything about it.  Do I think that Darwin’s theory is possibly true?  Yes, yes I do.
You mentioned you like science fiction.  What about books in general?
Huh?  (Repeats question) Books suck.  Reading sucks.  I rather people read to me.
Doesn’t that kinda ruin the point?
Huh? (Repeats question) No, there is, like, movies and stuff like that.
What about poetry?
I think it’s alright.
What do you think about other people’s poetry?  Do you have a favorite poet?
What?  Eh… Poe is kinda awesome.
What do you think of my poetry?
I think it sucks.
Why?
‘Cause a) it’s hard to read your writing and b) it sounds like you’re trying to be something your not.
And?
That’s it.
That’s it?
Yeah.
Would you like it better if I wrote neater?
Probably not.
Yet you use it as an excuse for not liking my peotry overall?
So?  Have a problem with that? [censored sentence]
Well, don’t you think that is a bit harsh, unfair and unrealistic?
No, it’s pretty fair in my eyes.
What are your plans after you graduate?
Probably going to end up going to s’craft [community college].  After that, an Art Institute.
What is your GPA?
I have no clue.
Is it 2.5 or higher.
Oh.  No.  Lower.  Yeah.  2.3333 and so on.
So, are you getting a degree?
Don’t know.
No idea?
Not yet.  I’ll now when I get it.
If you were going to describe me, in detail, to someone, what would you say?
You?  Um.. I would say…little bit taller than me…snot nosed brat who thinks she knows what she’s always saying.
Anything else?
Won’t stop talking.
Okay, okay, I get the hint.  Anything else?
Oh, yeah, my quote. ‘Blood is pretty, but it stains.’
Good night.
Whatever.

 

Green Intellect December 27, 2008

I am (attempting to) start a charitable organization.  Hopefully, I can convince my friend Amelia (see ‘Losing My Religion’) to join me.  She would be the perfect partner and combination.

To start of the organization will be called Green Intellect.  The goal is to preserve the earth and knowledge for future generations.  It will promote literacy and education through book and school supply drives and will give appreciation to educators.  It will give environment awareness and improvement in Earth Day related celebrations and activities.

And Amelia would be perfect to help me start it up.  If not for the support, at least for a good tag line.  Imagine this: “An organization focused on education and the environment.  Created by a science loving, tree hugging, underachieving agnostic (me) and her counseling, straight-A, Catholic friend (Amelia).”

 

The Best Things Are Those You Ignore December 25, 2008

First thing in the morning, the shaking is not that bad. I’d stand with you for twenty minutes, but it won’t come to me. I’m not awake enough to feel the pain, remember why I am there. I’d stand there for twenty minutes, foolishly feeling happiness, but deep down I must know. The shaking starts up after first hour, passing time. I’m going towards your class, or at least next door. Chemistry. I walk in and instantly have to go to the water fountain. I need a drink. My mouth is dry and tastes like copper. I past you, sitting at the counter and hope you don’t look up. Or you are standing there, right outside your door. I keep walking, duck my head and you give me a strange look. You ask me on the way back if I am angry at, or if I am avoiding, you. I turn and walk into class, not answering the question.

I shake for the first fifteen minutes. At least. My partner, Heather, asks me what is wrong. I tell her that I’m just cold. Really cold. Tears swell up in my eyes and I fight them back. I hear you next door, talking to your class. You crack a joke and I hear everyone laugh. Someone goes over and closes the door, complaining about how loud you talk. Hey, I was listening to that.

It starts back up again the last five minutes. I have to past by your room to get to class. My feet turn me into your classroom while my head screams. Please don’t notice me shaking. Notice and fix it. I do not know what I want.

I now shake every passing time. I think that I might run into you, even though you are on the other side of the school. It’s possible, but not probable. So I write you these letters, hoping you would eventually understand without them. You’re not a mind reader, I will admit. Admitting is the first step to recovery.