Anywho, so I wrote myself a poem that started out all depressing and whatever but it turned really damn creepy and kind of funny in the way that you think you should laugh but you're afraid something's going to pop out at you with an angry face. Ya know.
Here you go. I called it "Emerson", because I started it with an Emerson quote, and it's about nonconformity and stuff, but really I should call it "My Social Contract, Just for Teenagers".
I'll talk more about the Transcendentalists after the poem, if you're interested.
UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: this is a really shitty poem, and really angsty, and just terrible. Do yourself a favor and don't read it. I'm not being modest. It really is awful. If you want to read GOOD poetry by me, go here: http://figment.com/books/507384-Post-Apocalyptic-Poetry
Emerson
“for nonconformity,
the world
whips you
with its scorn”
all the happy little children
dancing in their lit-up circles
dizzy smiles on their faces
as they spin and spin around
everybody laughing, smiling
even in the storm’s frustration
everybody dizzy
as I tumble to the ground
And break me, beat me
burn me, scratch me
cut me til my skin is raw
Just don’t ignore me
Please
Stop
Looking
Away
I am different
that I know
Different than your silly show
Of
“I am different, did you know?
I will wear a tie-dye bow
And that will make me special, no?”
I am color, I am light
I am dancing at midnight
I am wise for anyone
I am strong and I am young
You ignore me
You don’t know me
Guess who sees me: no one does
As you laugh
And fake uniqueness
I’m better than everyone
Oh, you dance
And break my bones
And say,
“Oh look! I am alone!
I only have
three-hundred-thousand
Facebook friends,
(all who I know),
so pity me,
don’t look at
Ariel
sitting there all alone”
And look,
you are depressed as well
With cuts all down your arms,
that’s swell!
You must be deep inside,
I can tell
By your shitty poetry
And crappy art
You must have
A real big heart.
And you’re so damn unique!
All of you
You’re all unique
It’s very true
In the exact same way
I’m proud of you
You all love the same
Hipster bands
And do your silly
Unicorn dance
And have
Five hundred Tumblr fans
You’ve written
“Seventeen whole pages”
Of your new novel
(For the AGES)
This time, this’ll be the one
You have to say
Writing’s just so fun
You can’t see why I
could be so dumb
As to not write
A novel like you
Eighty thousand words
(Maybe you’ll reach that, too)
AND LOOK!
LOOK HOW DARN SPECIAL YOU ARE!
You’ve heard of Sylvia Plath’s Bell Jar!
(you haven’t read it,
but there you are)
You’ve got witty comments about the world!
(Read them on Tumblr?
that’s absurd)
If you do something normal,
you’ve got an excuse!
So don’t you worry, guys-
IGNORE THE RECLUSE!
Ignore Ariel
and she’ll go away!
She’s just a reminder
Of how fucking boring
your stupid “nonconformity”
is
compared to her
genius
and her talent
and her actual
originality.
Smash her into the ground, though.
That’ll work.
There. That is really the first time I've ever cursed in a poem, besides 'damn'. Where's Waldo: damn, darn, crap, shit, fuck. Have fun, my dearie ducks! (What's wrong with me, may I ask?)
It's only to express emotion. I don't like cursing, really, no matter what impression you get from all the "fucking"s in this blog. It's because I don't get any other place to express emotion, you know? First there was the, "oh, I'm in love," deal, which was pretty much bottled up inside me for the last three years. Then there was the, "NO I HATE LOVE" deal, which is done now, mostly. Thank God. (By which I mean, I have fully realized that no, I don't hate love, but I'm certainly not IN love with anyone). Now it's the, "Dude. I exist. Hello? HELLO? Am I wearing an Invisibility Cloak? Hold on, no one reads this blog- a fucking Invisibility Cloak? Ooh, that felt good! Shit! Ahahahahaha!"
But no, I don't do that in real life.
As for the Transcendentalists: Yeah, so Emerson's cool, but he's a bit preachy, and get this: My Favorite Teacher agrees (the English teacher, if you haven't read my last ten thousand blog posts) that Thoreau is better than him. YES because Thoreau is my new obsession. Read Walden, guys. It's springtime! Best time to read Walden, in my opinion.
Anyway. Yeah, my other new obsession is A Very Potter Musical. Adore it. So much.
And of course, what's coming out in four days? THE HUNGER GAMES THAT IS RIGHT YAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!!
So really, why am I so mad about things? I guess it's a mood swing thing... darn, I really am in puberty, aren't I? You know, I was thinking today: Why am the only one in my family who's NOT in puberty? My dad is perpetually a teenage boy; my mom is a whiny teenage girl always in PMS; my sister is actually 13 and God do we know it. But me? No, I'm the mature adult around here, thank you.
But I can write love SO WELL. At least, I think. Mae and Aaron? (my characters in case ya didn't know) Most romantic relationship of ever. UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: lol no they're not romantic at all
Like I said, Aaron is a tortured soul, which I didn't even realize I was doing until my mom told me about Twilight, "Yeah, tortured souls are romantic" and I was like OMG, Aaron!
No spoilers about WHY he's a tortured soul. But here's one line that made me, The AntiCupid (reference to antichrist? No? OK.) melt, and I wrote it, and I hate romance.
"He had never thought of a girl as beautiful as his music."
Oh my God squealing! That is just so romantic, me. I rock.
Anyway. Yeah, I ought to do the chemistry homework. My chem teacher is doing this cuh-razy experiment where he actually teaches us for once, but still, I think I should read the textbook.
Anyway, my sister wants me to hear a song, so more tomorrow; I DO have a poem.
Your lovely Transcendentalist poem,
magic*esi
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