Deja Entendu.

There’s something about espresso. Something aside from the fact that a mere commodity made popular by the media and today’s society that distinguishes it amongst other things. Something incredulous that requires a justification for spending exorbitant sums of cash in brief periods of time on a mere drink. There’s something about sipping that cold, mixed drink containing all too much caffeine on a chilly day where you could wear a T-shirt but it’s just windy enough to bring your coat along as a safeguard. There’s something, just a little thing, about looking straight ahead down the street you’ve spent three varied years on and no longer seeing setbacks and roadblocks; but realizing that you can be more than just yourself, and as you sit there, inhaling the cool air and watching the sun set after a long, hard day, and understanding that you’re not alone, and you never truly will be. And you spend the afternoon there, not really paying attention to life or the people passing you by wondering what business you had at the end of that street, sitting there and talking and opening up like nothing else matters to someone you didn’t see yourself sharing anything with.

You have that moment where you look up and you comprehend you aren’t just a piece of paper in a stack of others waiting to be judged. And even so, when that day comes what will happen, will be, and life will continue on. You have that moment when an indescribable weight is lifted because you understand your sad story isn’t just a sad story. It’s a beginning. It’s all a new beginning. And to think, something so beautiful can come out of a mere beverage you paid $7.06 for on that street you spent an afternoon on—a chapter of your life on. There’s that feeling of security that no eloquent words in the English language can begin to depict. So we must settle for trite words and warped images on canvas, for that is all we are capable of.

When it boils down to it, money is just paper, and your resume is just a paper, but when you look into the actual fabric of our being, into the very depth of our souls and into the blood that flows through us, you don’t see a beautifully aligned column of bullet points and objectives. You don’t see a copy of a copy of a copy. You see who makes up those pages, those stories. And getting to know someone so genuinely to know them aside from all of the superficiality and facades… there’s something about that.

When you try your hardest to make someone happy, to help them. You give them all the chances in the world and keep allowing them in, allowing their personal feelings to affect you, and still in the end they aren’t there for you like you are for them.

They move on, and so should you.

This is the end. This story’s old but it goes on and on until we disappear. Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathe while you are underneath. I know that this is what you want, a funeral keeps both of us apart. You know that you are not alone, I need you like water in my lungs.

Sure, I’ll take it.

tonight i get to spend the entire evening setting up camp, making bonfires, and acting ridiculous with some of the coolest people in the world.

attn: good times ahead.

:)

There’s a piece of me left somewhere along with great expectations.

I don’t know where this year went, where these days have gone. I feel almost as if I’ve been drug through these last few weeks with the wool over my eyes and my ears plugged; all of my senses dulled and rendered obsolete. Am I not living like everyone else? Am I not existing, like every thing under the sun?

It seems yesterday I was starting my first semester of high school, scared of how many people there were (a whopping 400 something) and not being able to find my classes…now I’m in my last week of my first semester at a school with more than 40,000 students and I’m FOUR years older.

Its crazy to me how fast things come and go. One minute you’re cheering for your friend running a race, the next day they’re diagnosed with cancer. In one instance you’re talking about the Beatles to a classmate and the next you’re attending his funeral. These people…all of my friends, all of my family, they weren’t ready to go. They shouldn’t have been. But either way it happened. Either way, they’re gone now. The real moral here is you have to cherish everything. Cherish every moment you’re alive. Every breath you can breathe and every blink. Every time you can hold that lover’s hand and know you’re safe with them..

Because one day that might end… and there won’t be anything you can do about it.

That’s not to say you can’t change the future—you can—it just might not all play out the right way to begin with. You can spend right now, today, lamenting about the things you used to have or the people you used to need…or you can spend these limited episodes of life being thankful and thanking the Lord (or whomever you believe in) for what you have. The privileges you have been granted, the abilities bestowed upon you.

Love who you are and where you are in life. If for some reason, any reason, you aren’t happy, change it. Do something spontaneous. You have ONE SHOT. One life. Make every day worth writing down, worth talking about. Be positive. Keep your head up high and your hopes higher. Things will always get better.

You just gotta believe.

this is a call out to the people who i call friends:

thank you for being above revenge, being above sinking to the level of the enemy
thank you for being there for me, and being on my side
thank you for not pretending to be something you’re not, and acting more mature than everyone of us including our peers should be
thank you for actually being a real person, with real dreams and real faith
thank you for not losing hope and not giving up
thank you for loving unconditionally, something most people can’t even fathom
thank you for trusting me and allowing me to trust you
thank you for helping build up those who have fallen
thank you for being amazing in everything that you do. you are an inspiration to many, myself included.

and thank you, most of all, for being my friend. through thick and thin, through the troubles and drama of high school. i just wanted to say thanks before it all ended, this ‘best time of our lives’ we’re supposed to be having. i know it’s not. it just doesn’t feel right to me. but i hope you can change that, and have a great great senior year. i hope all of you, even you people i don’t know or haven’t quite started to love yet, have such a wonderful year, you will talk about it for years to come.

i’ve been thinking about it lately, and i don’t want to lose any of you. so promise me one thing, if any, that if for some reason we cease being friends after our time in this small town is up, that you remember all the great times and all the fun nights. because, i won’t forget. i won’t.

much love,
hayls <3