Senior year will be the death of me!

Ahhhh! I can’t believe it’s almost December… Senior year is almost over:(

I just want time to slow down so I can breathe. Senior year is so stressful: there’s all these tests that we have to take to prove we’re smart enough to get into a smarty pants school, big ass projects that have nothing to do with anything, homework out the wazoo, College aplications that take forever to do, and a bunch of other crap that I’m too sleep deprived to think of. In the midst of all this, I’m trying to have a life!

Yeah, that’s right; A LIFE! It’s senior year I feel like now is the time to be crazy and do all the stuff I was scared to do for the past three years. Two weeks ago I went to a midnight movie with a friend and I didnt tell my parents…ohhh rebel. TYeah I felt like uch a badass but of course I got in trouble and couldnt go out for a week. However, they better get used to it because this is just the begining.

Everyone expects us to know what we want to do with our lives and have all these goal laid out. For what? I want to go where ever the wind blows me! Lately that wind is pushing me in the California direction. I live in a small town and believe me; I dont want to stay here. I want to do big things but everyone thinks that college is it. I don’t think so. College gets you a paycheck and a free ticket to be safe. I dont want to be safe. I’ve been safe for so long and I can’t take it anymore. That’s why I’m working my butt off trying to get a scholarship to a school in L.A. My mom wants me to go to college. Well, I litterally ( ok, more like figuratively) have no choice other then death. I however, want to be a famous singer/ actress/ writer/ humanitarian/ cheerleading team owner! Yeah, its alot but it’s what I want to do with my life.

You guys, I would type more but, lunch at my school is almost over and I had to get this off my chest before I go back to class. All I can say is: live for you and don’t mistake other people’s happiness for your own!

Thanks for reading, stay lovely!


Irrelevant Title!

(Seriously, I couldn’t think of a fitting title and you will soon see why)


The lines on my face don’t scare me anymore

They inspire me

It has nothing to do with her

Or the way she pouts her lips in concentration

It has nothing to do with him

Or how good he smells even though he hasn’t showered in a week

I think of them

Often actually

Though, they are not in charge of me

I fight and push forward

Nothing can bring me down today

It’s the writing that feeds me

Not the words

Not Poetry

When I try to write, nothing unique ever comes to mind

It’s not a task, I need it to unwind.

When I finally do jot down the rawness that I feel

Then I can’t elaborate on it

I sit and I think but yet another unique thing pops up

I jot it down but it has nothing to do with the first

I could make it but I’m afraid it would show

Damn I wish I was a poet

 Then none of this would be happening

If I were a poet then this would effortlessly rhyme

People would want to sing the rhythm of the words while they read

Just now, I tried to make this into a poem and boy was that a mistake

I’m not a poet but I do write poetry

Anything can be poetry in my book

Its other peoples’ books that send me over the edge

When I write music I think the way that it goes together is poetry

What about short stories or my novel?

It’s annoying but I’m still going to call it poetry

No, it is not by any means fancy

Sometimes it’s not even raw

I hate to sugar coat things

And that’s why sometimes I don’t do huge revisions because I meant what I said the first time

I stopped typing for a second and read over the last few lines

Geez Erin, what are you doing?

You’re separating your clauses like a poem

This isn’t supposed to be one

It’s more of a ramble

That’s what my writing is most of the time; organized rambling

Its quiet pitiful but very true

This is poetry because I say it is,

If anyone thinks different then they’re probably a poet