Jb Knows

A Teen Writer’s Trip to the Top

Goals of 2009 January 11, 2009

I hope to get past some of my biggest fears and problems this year.   But to just SAY that is one thing, especially when what  I am saying is so vague.  Here are some of my goals for this year.

1. National Novel Writing Month- Reach 50,000 words in one month.  I know someone who has done this and they were quite proud of the accomplishment.  I have been saying I would do this for the last 2 years, but have yet to reach this goal.

2. April is Poetry Month- Write at least 2 poems a day in the month of April.  Last year I wrote 1 a day, while most days I wrote a lot more.  I hope to write 300 new poems this year, putting me that much closer to my goal of beating out Emily Dickinson by sheer volume.  If only I could get the prestige as well.

3. Be top debater in both the state AND the league.  These events are judged separately.  I managed to be the top debater in the league this year.  To my bitter disappointment, I barely even made it in to the final session at the state tournament.  I would also like a gavel for being a PO, since I have yet to receive one.  Not to mention a Best Bill Award.

4.  Get at least a 30 on the ACT, with a math subscore of at least 28.  I took a practice one and I got a 27, but I would like to do better.  Get a 4 on the U.S. Government AP exam.

5. Read 500 books.  I have a list of book, about 510 books long, that I would like to read.  I do not expect all of the ones I actually read this year to be from this list, but it would be nice.

6. Finish ‘Unsent Letters’, ‘Unconscious’ and ‘If you were me’ , the current books I am writing.

7. Be accepted to Eastern Michigan University.  I want to go there so bad it is ridiculous. Also be accepted to U of M, just so I can turn them down.

8. I have perfect attendance at school.  I haven’t missed a day of school in the last two years, and I would like to keep it that way.

9. Blog more.  I really need to get in more posts this year.  I’ll just make sure to write down my posts on scrap sheets of paper.

 

I Was Just Thinking… About That Speech You Gave December 25, 2008

Can I just scream?  That would get it out.  Get IT out.  All out, all gone, it’s lost.  I’m lost.  Truly don’t know what to say.  Don’t get weird on you?  What is that supposed to mean?  On you?  Don’t be weird.  I was already weird, but you certainly are not helping.  This is driving me crazy.  You are driving me crazy!  Do you want me to be crazy?  It sure seems like your goal.  Get me alone, crazy, stupid.  (Alone.  We are alone.  Two stupid lonely souls combining to get… You are not alone.  You already have…) No, not stupid, terrible thing to say.  That someone so smart could be so stupid.  (Might have to take me out back and…)

Me?  Smart?  Smart aleck, smartastic, sarcastic?  Yes.  Smart?  No.
My blood is running cold and I am shaking.  Not from the cold, I’m used to the weather.  But this -this thing- makes me shiver, my hairs stand on end.  On end, the end.  Is this my end?  End is definite, death too final, too simple.  (Suicide is no longer an option.) The dead are cold.  Am I dead?  I think, therefore I am, therefore living.  Can I be and still be dead?  It’s not a physical cold, (physical.  Physical cold.  Physical hot.) it’s a psychological cold.  All in my head.  All in.  All or nothing, in my head.  Making it up, of course not intentionally.  Or, yes, intentionally, subconsciously.
Talking about it does not calm anybody down.  It is not up for discussion. (SHUT UP) It is to reflect and drive me crazy, but it is never to be discussed.  With anyone, especially you.  I cannot talk to you about you.  (You: the object of my affection, my attention.  My excuse for lack of attention to things others deem important.)
Take a pain killer, numb myself.  Hardly solves anything.  Seems that whenever I am numb is exactly when I need to feel.  (Feel what?  Feel who?  Feel life.)

 

The Best Things Are Those You Ignore

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.

 

A Remarkable Lad December 21, 2008

Filed under: Unfinished Work — samke23 @ 11:58 pm
Tags: , , ,

You can’t be logical and insane at the same time, can you? Define logical. Look at Poe, great writer, obviously crazy. Was he born that way, or did his becoming an orphan have to do with it? Or did his writing turn him crazy? Wrote everything out to get your mind off of it but then it was put into words and there was no escaping it, you had to face it and analyze it to death until you figured yourself out.

Did he realize he was crazy? Maybe we are just misinterpreting the situation, both his and mine.

So…

Am I crazy? As if you have the answer, to everything. ‘Are you crazy, just let me check.’

 

(Psycho)analysis

How can you tell if you are crazy? You said that you know that you are crazy when I asked you. And if we are so much alike doesn’t that make me crazy too? I would assume that it does. Are you sure you are crazy, or were you just joking around?

If I’m crazy and you’re crazy..

I’m not the only one.

If you’re only crazy…

I will be soon.

If I’m only crazy…

What does that make you?You’re certainly not sane. Is there some sort of midway point that we both stand on? If we are normal, then normal is a pretty broad label. Or everyone is crazy.

If everyone was crazy, we are still crazier then most.

I think before I was just pretending to be crazy and now it has manifested into reality, but how can it do that, who is to blame? Can’t blame myself, the blame certainly does not fall on me because I couldn’t handle that, it must be the media, my environment, some chemical imbalance in my brain that I have absolutely no control over, so it can’t be my fault can it?

But of course! It’s all my fault! It’s always my fault, I am always to blame. That’s why we were late to Debate and why we lost the second game in Quiz Bowl and why you are always in a bad mood lately and you pray, you pray to no god because you have no proof that He is there. God is a disease. He infects the weak in every generation. I can’t be that weak if I’m agnostic, right?

Can’t have an emotional breakdown if you haven’t built your emotions back up yet. Can’t have an emotional breakdown if you have no emotions. Do I have emotions? Or do I just have thoughts? Thoughts that ramble, rambleramblerambleramble and have no point at all except to ask…

Am I crazy?

 

First Thing in the Morning December 9, 2008

Filed under: Unfinished Work — samke23 @ 11:39 pm
Tags: , , , , , ,

Yeah, it’s called a stress relief ball. Not such a good thing to start playing catch with, as you may have noticed. It’s for relieving stress, which I certainly have lots of. These are the many stresses I face when I walk into the room…

These books are heavy, should I put them down? Will anyone  get mad at me if I put them on this table here, does anybody need to use it? I’ll put it on this kids desk. No, I will not move my stuff, you’re not even using it right now. What do you mean ‘what am I doing here’? I live here. I want to be here, unlike some people.

Matt, this is not your room. It’s more my room then it is yours, so why don’t you just get out? Sorry for fighting with your students. Yes, I know violence doesn’t solve anything. But it can be so much fun.

Charlie, get out, and enough with the eyebrow raising. Charlie is not your student, and he is not a friend, so I have permission to control when he comes and goes. Leave, and take Nicky with you. You’re taking up my attention. I’ll warn them both not to hang out with Brett, but they won’t listen.

Who’s Brett? None of your business Chris, just shut up for once. You and Adam can leave too. I don’t particularly like any of you. I’m not here to listen to you guys complain and gossip and say stupid stuff I don’t care about.

You guys are luck you are friends with him or I would personally through you out. Can’t wait until you graduate, this June. Hey there, how are you doing today? Fine, thanks, how about you? Oops, I just asked you that. I’ll go crawl into a hole and die. I am NOT overreacting and I am NOT dramatic.

Okay, maybe just a little bit. Major mood swing. Try not to cry, do not shed a tear over this. Besides, it will ruin you mascara. You do not accidentally poke yourself in the eye every morning to have it ruined. Organize the papers on the counter to preoccupy yourself.

Sex? Do I want to talk about sex? It’s too early in the morning to be having this conversation. You got a full nights sleep? Well good for you, I have been up since four, worried about how horrible a person I am. I’m not looking you in the eye if we are having this discussion. (Not that I would anyways.)

I’ll turn around, blushing, pretending to roll my eyes so that I don’t have to look at yours. Wonder what color eyes you have. I think they’re blue or brown. Or green. I have no idea. I am not staring. What is there to stare at?

You? Please don’t flatter yourself. Yes, I can tell that is what you’re thinking just by looking at you. I can read you like a book. Mind reader. Leave, why would I leave? Oh, right, I have to go to class. I’m not going to be late, I made it yesterday.

I am not lying, I never lie to you. Except, wait, that was a lie. I do lie to you, but then I feel really, really, really bad about it. Go to class. Right, I’ll go learn something. Fun, fun. Big smile. Be careful out there. You know what I’m talking about.

There’s a lot of weirdos.