Let's be here.

It's not until you stop to ask yourself if you're really happy that you actually start being sad.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I'm not sad.
I'm not sad.
I'm not sad.
I'm not sad.
I'm not sad.
I'm not sad.
I'm not sad.
I'm just exaggerating.
~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~
"Smile, honey. Just smile. Really. It could be worse. You've been through harder times. Just smile-"
"Don't tell me to smile."
"Then don't frown."
"Let my mouth do whatever the hell it wants."
"I can't stand to see you sad."
"I'm not sad."
"Then why don't you smile?"
"I'm not happy."
"Doesn't that mean you're sad?"
"It doesn't mean anything."
~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~
She looked at the stars on the the ground
Spread vertically
Up and down

She knew that when the sun came up
The stars would be gone
and in their places would be a favela

But for now
She would just wish upon them
Ignore the truth behind their shine.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'll never forgive you if you jump."
"I won't forgive myself if I don't."
"Please, I'm begging you. Don't leave me here alone."
"You don't need me here, it's not doing anything good for you."
"Please. Please. Please, I need you. I can't. I can't stay here without you."
"Then you better jump after me."

She jumped
Into a sea of happiness
Joyful waves crashing into stones of satisfaction
The wind turning over a thousand new leaves.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Take a dive into life.

Why The World Is Wrong

why would anyone choose to be different.

it's all nice and fine to say 'oh well I love being different'.
but no one really does.

those bug eyed stares.
the snickers behind your back.
the amazement of seeing something so strange.

I hate being different.
everyday I look at what I see in the mirror and spew hate at it.
I hate everything that I am.
being different isn't good.
it's just another vice that someone can twist to warp you.

so yes.
I am different.

but I wish everyday that I wasn't.
but who would choose to be so different in a world that is so reactionary.
a world that refuses to move into the future.
I know I wouldn't.

this is the world I am forced to know.
we are all forced to know.
this xenophobic homophobic cainotophobic existance.
it isn't pretty.

is it wrong for me to want to be normal?
to be average?
maybe.
maybe not.

perhaps difference is synonymous with bravery.
that being different, or allowing ones self to be, is progressive.
beneficial for the future.

then again,
maybe being different is a curse.
and we're all designated for a fiery existance in the pits of hell.
or new york city.

is it worth it?
this constant ridicule, pain, hatred?

I don't think so.

but then again,
I have no choice in the matter.

The attic story

1.) introduction.
---what's your name?
---i don't have one.
---you don't have a name? why not?
---i don't know? i was never... given one?
---never given one? BAH. i'll give you a name!
---oh...kay?
---yes! i shall name you...
---...?
---ann. your name shall be ann.
---thanks, i guess?
---you're welcome, ann.

2.)love
---ann, have you heard about the new boy at school?
---no, i don't go to school with you, remember?
---oh, right. where do you go to school, anyway?
---i'm not sure.
---well, you should go to my school!
---i hope i could
---anyway, there's this new boy at school
---a new boy?
---yes! he's really pretty too! my mother told me that everyone is pretty! do you think he thinks im pretty, too?
---who knows?

3.)light
---hey ann?
---yes?
---why is it so dark in here?
---i'm not sure. it just always is.
---i'm sorry! you should get some light in here!
light rustling, before blinds are pulled
---you see! it's light in here!
---i...guess.
---i never really saw what you're wearing before; that's a pretty dress you're wearing!
---thanks, i guess.
---it is! i like how it gets lighter at the bottom; almost like it's see-thru.
---hmm.

4.)dark
---hey ann?
---yes?
---aren't you ever afraid of the dark?
---what do you mean?
---i mean, you're always in the dark, what's it like in here?
---i guess... it's very quiet.
---...quiet?
---yes, quite so. it's actually very pleasant
---in the dark, listening to quiet?
---yes.

5.)seeking solace
---ann! ann! it's raining outside!
he's leaning against the window, hands perched on the window rail
---it's raining? gross.
---nah, nah, look outside.
---still, it's just rain.
---well, i happen to like rain.
---oh? explain.
---well, in english today, my teacher told us rain it just gods way of cleansing the world of sins
---sins? like?
---you know, loving thy neighbor, hatred, evil, homosexuality, racism; sins!

6.)break away
---hey, ann?
---yes?
---i think i have a problem.
he's sitting in the old chair, legs curled up against his chest
---what's wrong?
he glances at her, the familiar semi-transparent pattern flashing in the corner of his eye
---i think there's something wrong with me, that's what.
---what's wrong with you? i think you're just swell
---why, thank you. but, i think there is something wrong with me
---what? i bet it's nothing.
---no, no. no. no. i... there's this boy in my class. richard.
---wasn't he the boy who moved here years ago?
---you remember that?
---you were so excited.
---well... i think... he's really nice.
---so you like him?
---yes.
---what's wrong with that?
---i like him more than i should. what should i do?
---...
---i... i think im going to stop talking to him. if i stop talking to him, it'll all go away right?
---....

7.)heaven
---ann.
---yes?
---do you think heaven and hell exists?
---what do you mean?
---we talked about it in religious studies today; and i'm wondering what you think of it
---well, i'm not sure, myself
---i thought you would be
---why?
---because you... you're... nevermind.
---do you think i belong in either?
---i think you belong in heaven
---i think you belong there too. you've been a very nice friend over the years
his smile is lethargic as he glances out the window
---i'm glad i met you, ann
---and i you. it was very lonely here, before you first came.
her form is flashing and blinking like an almost dead light bulb

8.)innocence
---ann? are you there?
silence.
---ann? what happened? are you okay?
silence.
---ann? ann? Ann? Ann?
his voice has a tinge of hysteria in it.
---ann, please. i need you. please. ann? ann?
tears are falling down his face
---ann, please. please show yourself. ann, i'm sorry if i ever offended you or hurt your feelings. ann; ann please. ann please, please. please, ann!
he's hugging his arms around his form, fingers digging into his unnaturally thin sides
---ann, please, help me. ann, please. i don't... ann...
ann never showed.

9.)drive
he's flipping car keys through his fingers quickly
---hello?
---ann! hello there!
---what is with the keys?
---i'm driving somewhere, later today
---you're driving somewhere? where are you going?
---oh, you know. just a trip into the woods.
---camping?
---sort of.
---oh how delightful! i wish i could go with you
---i heard it's going to rain though, and i know how much you hate the rain
---i'd still go, just because it'd be a fun adventure with you.
his smile is bittersweet
---i'm sure it would have been.

10.)breathe again
ann is sitting quietly in her seat
---i wonder where he went
her transparent dress is flicking on and off all around her
---i hope he had fun on his trip.
she glances out the window, seeing nothing but sunshine
---i wish i could have come, it's all sunshine outside!
she glances away, still smiling
---ahh, well, i'm sure he enjoyed it.
she pauses, before glancing back out the window
---why, it's his car! ooh, he's back, isn't he!
she's watching with her fingers lightly touching the window
---why... is that not his family? oh, did they go with him! oh how much fun!
ann taps her fingers against the glass lightly
---oh but i do hope they didn't get over-heated during the trip
she pauses to glance back to her chair before back out the window
---black surely is a dreadful colour to wear, while camping.

the candles of saint mary.

there we are, gathered before a corner of the college campus that is alight with rows and rows of candles on racks.

this is saint mary's place, the tour guide says. this is where students can say a prayer and just let go of all the worries in our lives.

or at least something along those lines. i'm barely listening.

she invites us to each light a candle, if we like. she assures us that even though the school is catholic, it's okay if we're jewish. it's okay if we don't even reflect about god if we don't want to.

i follow all the other girls to the crate of unlit candles,

watch each of the girls in front of me take one.

but when it is my turn to take a candle, i start to reach for one and pause.

i know the light is supposed to symbolize hope and spirituality and all, but all i can think about is the not the light, but the candles. there are hundreds of them burning in this place. hundreds of candles made of tons of wax. and as i stand there, i can't help but question. if there's a god, then why is he letting all of this candle wax be consumed by college kids and visitors for a symbolic manifestation of prayer when there are other places in this world where symbolism is useless because real warmth and comfort is so impossible to come by?

i can't keep standing here for much longer. there are people waiting behind me who want their candles too. a small part of me still wants to take that lump of wax, just to experience lighting its fresh, unburnt wick and seeing the little flame blossom from nothing. but it seems pointless now. i put my hand back into my coat pocket and step towards the racks of candles. i watch the other girls light theirs with wooden sticks provided for that purpose, placing them in empty places in the rows. each candle in this array of illumination is meant to embody a different person's hopes and prayers. can a candle really do that?

as the other girls kneel at the gate and pray, i stare for a while at the sight before me. it feels like so much human emotion is put into these dots of flickering light, but the candles themselves are solemn. they themselves don't feel a thing. for some reason it reminds me of the vietnam memorial, with all those names on a stone wall expressing loss. no matter what it's supposed to represent, the engravings in the stone are cold. silent. nothing more than a tool for man to help come to terms with himself. that's all it really is, in the end.

continuing to look at the candles seems useless now. standing apart from everyone else, i turn to face the night sky. it's silent, starless, indifferent, and the air is quivering with the chill. but i have more faith in this than i have in the countless candles flickering behind me.

it's time to go. the girls are wordless as they rise from their prayers. there's no sound as we gather around our chaperones. and as we slowly walk out of the place with saint mary's candles, we don't say a thing.

Pressure

it will always be us and them.
they will never be accepted.
they will never be initiated.
they will never be us.

they're different.
and that can't be changed.
and I'm glad.
we don't want them.

I don't care how nice,
how decent,
how honest,
how noble these people are.

I don't like other people.
they're freaks.
imbeciles.
different.

but, because of you,
I made the exception.
and I put up with them.
not for long, mind you.

they get on my nerves.
why can't they be normal?
do they have to be so ridiculously incompetent?
we saw you first, we own you.

our cliques will stay the same.
and we will not mingle.
and you will not move.
because it is always us and them.

our lives will never change.
and we will not question.
and you will be content.
because it is always us and them.

our lies will not falter.
and we will forget their names.
and you will stay loyal.
because it is always us and them.

--mark