It's time for these baby birds to learn to fly

Nelson pulled a fast one on us. He threw us from the nest, and hoped we would spread our wings. 

I felt exposed. So many thoughts ran through my head, I was so afraid. Even now as I imagine that all of you know who I am, I feel so uncertain. 

I definitely was the bird that plummeted quickly towards the ground. 

But then I realized. 

I do have wings.

Nelson has taught us courage and taking risks and speaking for ourselves and that was the wind.

We needed to catch that wind to soar. And if we didn't, we would fall.

I realized, there are worse things in life than all of you thinking my writing is horrid.

There are worse things in life than writing how I feel and having people disagree, cause that's the way life is, people don't always agree.

There are worse things in life than having my pen name revealed. 

So Nelson, thank you for doing us all a favor. 

I promise, I won't sue you.

The Old Road

#sadchairs

Spring break

Spring break.
Untrue to it's name- it snowed.
I don't know, maybe it's a good thing it snowed- there won't be a drought with more water right?
I like the part where there's a break from school, but I wish I could have online web classes scheduled with Nelson for the week.
It'd keep me entertained as I stay here in Highland. [i hope that doesn't narrow it down too much on my true identity.]
The truth is- I like learning- it's the part where teachers expect so much from us that kills me.
I don't have time to do 1 hour of math, 1 hour of science, 1 hour for each class, and then attend activities and have a job.
Not if I want to get straight A's any ways.
I guess that's why I would only want creative writing over this break.
Because- I learn from that class like I've never learned before.
I've learned how to be better than before.
And that to me is more important than the square root of 1255.
Sine, cosine and tangent have nothing on the poetic messages that teach us life in creative writing.
Nelson teaches us how to play our heart strings in a methodical beautiful way.
How he teaches is simply by example.
Really if I had to be jealous of someone, it'd be Mr. Kyle Nelson.
Because he has it figured out.
He's been in Paris for a life time.
And to me, that's really important.

jealousy is foolish

The Rider

by: Naomi Shihab Nye

i don't know how to roller-skate--i never learned how--i guess i was too uncoordinated for things like that. But maybe that isn't what makes me jealous. Yes, i wish i could be as fast as the boy. i want to be able to skate, skate hard, as fast as i can and ditch my loneliness in the dust. But lonely isn't all that bad. So i can't be jealous of that.

But, Pink Azaleas- they are so delicate. 

and maybe that's what makes me jealous. that i can't be delicate, like azaleas, and Naomi added them to her poem.

Maybe i'm jealous that i'm not a poet.

But i shouldn't be jealous because of something that i could change if i tried.

So maybe i'm jealous that i didn't write about escaping loneliness first.

Because i'm an expert about it.

But maybe again i'm jealous of the whole azaleas thing.

Because flowers bloom on their own.

They don't look at the other flowers growing and say- they are better than me.

They just bloom.

They aren't jealous, they just bloom.

Loneliness is second nature to me.

But i didn't run from it.

i embraced it.

I am jealous of the Azaleas thing.

Why can't i just bloom?

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