Lovely mind

Does your mind ever just go and go and go?

It just continuously rambles and all you want is to sleep, or to not think about what it's forcing you to think.

I feel sometimes that my mind is it's own being, like it has total control over me.

But I think I should have control over it, because I'm the bigger person- I AM the person.

I guess that just shows that size doesn't matter. 

A small something can be much more great.

Small minds can be lovely too.

Maybe it's just crazy and I've lost my mind and that's why I can't control what it says.

But I have control over my mouth.

Even when my mind thinks things, I stop it at my mouth.

So maybe that's it.

We're all a little crazy up stairs.

Some just have better control of what we let others see.

Oblivion

I think about things I don't know.

Like- when is there ever going to be a time that I won't have access to a calculator besides when a teacher puts the restriction?

Or when will there be no more wars?

Where will be the place that I live in the future?

What will happen if I just walked up and kissed a random person?

When will people be able to look at each other and just see their heart- their intentions?

Who decided what questions to put on the ACT?

Why is thinking about the past a bad thing- especially when it teaches us not to be that person again, or it makes us happy? 

When will my sister find the man she's marrying?

Who will be able to change the world next? 

When will the day come that I won't care about what people say?

What if I got over my fear of heights and jumped out of a plane?

When will I be able to walk out the door wearing my "red dress", just like the poem by Kim Addonizio, and be okay with every detail of me being exposed?

Who would hate me if I wasn't as pretty as my name sounds?

Why can't people be open to differences and change? 

When is the end? 

Who what where when why??? 

I don't know.

Maybe someday I finally will. 

But for now-

Thinking about the galaxy hurts my mind.

Showering is the greatest thing in the world.

The fact that we could instantly die by a rogue planet makes me internally scream.

Pickles and peanut butter should never go together.

Mr. Nelson should get the greatest teacher in the universe award.

The movie Insurgent should come out a lot sooner than it does.

I hang out with too many freshmen.

Contention gives me anxiety.

I'll keep hoping for my time to shine. 

A letter from my heart

Dear Reader,

Let me start by saying that each and every time you look at this blog, or you leave a comment, I feel as high as a kite. I don't mean that to be weird, but it's true. Every time someone looks at this blog I get an overwhelming sensation of excitement and concern. What if you don't like what my brain said, what if you don't like the way my bones formed the words, what if  you don't like the way I feel, what if, what if, what if...  I don't mean to say that I worry a lot, but I really do. I worry about the starving dogs on the streets and the abused children in fancy houses. I don't know if that makes me a worrier, or if I just care. Maybe I care too much. Maybe I don't care enough about the things that actually matter. But I know I care.
I care about creative writing and the fact that Nelson helped me to  become obsessed with words and meaning.
I care about the way that words fall from people's mouths, especially when they say them with conviction and power.
I care about bloggers that I've never met, I've fallen in love with people I'm not sure I know.
I care and care and care. Because that's what I do. I'm the most vital organ. The one that keeps this whole system moving. Sometimes the writer, the outside appearance gets all the praise, but really everything comes from me. Each word that is written. It comes from me.
So I say this from me, the heart, that I hope you enjoy life. I hope you fulfill the tasks you were too afraid to do yesterday. I hope you see things you call art each day. I hope you can look at a bad situation and find the good. I hope you never give up- and I really mean that- I hope you find determination inside of you and continue on in whatever you do- writing, a sport, life. I hope you take risks, the ones that the only thing on the line is if you'll get embarrassed or not- because even if you sing in front of a crowd or kiss a stranger, you'll still have your dignity. I hope you find love- someone who cares about you as much as you care about them. I hope you become the person you want to become. I hope you find joy everyday. I hope you live for as long as you'd like. Really, I just hope you appreciate life, that you know what you have before it's gone. Like this class. Not all of us get to go on and continue writing with Nelson. So enjoy it now.
That's pretty much it. Have a nice life.

Love, the heart of Rosie Grace

Grandfather and I

I found this book about a Little Kid and their Grandpa.
I really Liked it.
It talked about how everyone is always rushing to do things.
Rushing, Rushing, and never taking time to just watch, to see.
Well I really liked these pages.

I want to be able to stop and look, just as long as I'd like

Slowly, Slowly, death will catch you

I breath in and out. I walk around each and everyday, going through the motions. But DEATH is real. It is so real it makes me stop and think about what I am actually doing. And am I really LIVING my LIFE to the fullest or am I just going through LIFE? Dealing with the emotions and the fun times like I am supposed to, the way my parents and teachers tell me I'm supposed to deal with them, or do I really choose what I am choosing?

I don't quite know.

But sometimes I feel like I only Exist, that my only reason for being here, are because my parents once decided they wanted to create LIFE. But that can't be so. Because I am the youngest in my family. Meaning that my parents created LIFE many times before, and that was so great and LIFE is so grand, that I was worth something more, that my LIFE has something more. I don't quite know what all of my meaning is about yet, but I do know that there is more to LIFE than simply existing. That in order to start LIVING, you have to be introduced to DEATH. 

I was in the 3rd grade when seven people in my extended family DIED, within five or so months.

I hated music. I never wanted people to sing, because that reminded me of the joy, the joy of LIFE that none of those seven people could ever enjoy. I didn't enjoy LIFE. And I think that was an eye opener to me. 

I didn't understand then, that just because those people couldn't enjoy LIFE anymore, didn't mean that I couldn't either. So after a while, (it was probably a year before I really liked music again, and really just now) do I realize, I need to LIVE. I need to forget that things could take away my freedom and tie me down with the bonds of DEATH, and realize that LIFE is short. I need to embrace each day, no matter how late I wake up, and how much homework I forgot to do for Math that day. I need to smile at each and every person, treat them like it could be their last day. Cause for now, I'm LIVING, and I need to act like it.

Here's to those girls

Girls. There's the girls who express their emotions all over social media, making sure that everyone knows, "I just need someone to talk to." The girls who create so much drama, and then say they hate it and "being with boys is so much easier!" The girls who are so shy, that you'd never know that they were dealing with anything, but they post all about their fan-girling show. The girls who are so loud and act confident who post selfies everyday to boost others self-esteems, but are really just attention whores. There's the girls who hate everyone and everything, and why can't people let them live independently. There's the girls who are insensitive and so close to being a guy, you question their sexuality. The girls who constantly " OMG, my BFF is the greatest! So glad I have him! #justfriends". The girls that everyone know because they make-out with anything of the opposite gender. The girls who are known as "popular", the ones who are so pretty, but mean. The girls who are known as "popular", because they are on STUCO, and everyone knows them. The girls that are so smart and so pretty that they are nerdy boys landmine.  The girls who wear lots of black, do drugs, and hang with shady men who are in their twenties. The girls who drop out of high school to be a teen mom (yes even in Utah we have them). The girls who are really shy, but could be a model if they gained self confidence. And the girls who are just there, you know, who are in limbo, who know a lot of people, but would never claim any as Best friends.
There are so many types of people. I did just girls, because I feel that we are the worst of them all. Even though there are so many differences in all of us, we still have so many similarities. We want to be told we are good enough. We are our worst critics. We judge and judge and judge, but mostly ourselves to others. We all want to have a purpose to our lives. We want something to keep us busy, a job, a boyfriend, a good TV show on Netflix, we all need our busy purpose.
We all are affected by what's around us. It's a crazy world out there, and no matter how much you want to say that "media doesn't effect me" "her words didn't wound me" "his stare didn't blaze me"
It did.
So here's to those girls. Who are living. Who are on earth conquering each and every day, as it comes around. We are all in the same. We just need to be told, you're doing a lovely job.

One makes a difference

One point can make your grade an A- to an A
One number can make you live under the wrong social security number
One egg can make you have a dozen or not
One second of looking at your phone while driving could be long enough to hit a sign
One person could make someone else change their mind on ending their life
One word could end a friendship
One day could be your last
One place could be your safety
One hug could be enough
One life could be worth a million
One could be enough
One makes a difference

i'm afraid

i'm afraid of spiders- one of them might lay eggs in my ear.
i'm afraid of heights- they're beautiful and all, but i could fall.
i'm afraid of shots- they puncture my skin, and it hurts.
i'm afraid of snakes- scales make my skin crawl.
i'm afraid of earthquakes- my 6th grade science teacher told me California is going down.
i'm afraid of the way my mom wrinkles her eyebrows- that means she's mad.
i'm afraid of skiing- last time i went i flew down the mountain and a snowboarder had to stop me.
i'm afraid of contention- i'll be the one who walks away unhappy.
i'm afraid of being unnoticed- what's the point if i walk around and no one knows?
i'm afraid of being noticed- i don't want to be the center of attention.
i'm afraid of dying alone- i don't have great luck with boys.

i'm afraid of being too small and insignificant.
i'm afraid of going to hell.
i'm afraid of being judged.
i'm afraid of being mocked.
i'm afraid of being hated.
i'm afraid of God.
i'm afraid of many things.

One thing I'm not afraid of is the girl from Pleasant Grove who tried to fight me Saturday.
I coulda easily taken her. She just had to take the first punch.

i'm afraid of taking the first punch.

We are bricks

I'm going to write about something concrete.
Like the grass on the ground or the computer I type on.
The fact that we do live on earth, and trees grow from the ground.
That's concrete.
With abstract things-- can you go farther in depth?
I don't think so.
A Brick is concrete.
What can I say about a brick?
I can say all the concrete details about it.
It's red, rough, hard, made of sun dried clay.
But there's so much more to it.
There's potential for greatness.
Kind of like people.
You can look at anyone and say what they are made of.
We are all made of the same things, just like bricks.
But we all create different things.
And that's concrete right?
One may be an oven, or a house.
But we all started as just a brick.
It's what is built that people see us as.
Bricks are mended together with mortar.
Life experiences; illness, school, friends, family, etc.
That's our mortar.
So really, we are Bricks.
Every last one of us.