REM World

What is the point of dreams?

The brain attempting to make sense of chaotic thoughts?

The sub-conscience working through suppressed matters?

An externally given message about the future?

What do I think dreams are for?

All.

I've had personal experience.

I've written down over 70 of my dreams to date.

Some random. Some meaningful. Some I wish were real.

The dream world is as much in real settings as it is a fantasy space.

Many dreams correlate to a current crush.

(Sometimes old crushes visit my REM world.)

Yet other dreams wrap into an entire mini story.

Highly complex and usually related to a book/media I read/saw.

Dreams correlating to the future?

Although I doubt any significance, I have experienced it.

A spider I was holding, actually scared myself awake.

<next day: held a spider like the one in my dream>

(one of those common wild ones which like street lights at night)

One where my focus was on a friend leaving for college,

But they were noticeably heavier than real life.

<next day: same friend mentions college freshmen gain about 15 lbs.>

(Oh yeah that was weird)

Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.

But the correlation is always discovered after the fact. 

Not psychic.

However, who am I to say the possibility doesn't exist.

Dreams are the place I can go to work out puzzles.

Where I can enjoy my own reality.
Remembering the REM world is the most satisfying.

Trigger

To dad:

Mom said she'll be back tomorrow by lunch.

<Too bad. You're eating lunch with me.>

(clear malice and spite in tone and comment)

You could have just said "okay"...

(can't decide between anger or cry)

(immediately texts friend who understands the situation)

(arrive at house)

(immediately goes upstairs to room)

(opens window and sits on roof listening to music)

(continues conversation with friend)

I wish I could go to moms house.

I don't want to be here.

Considering feelings, don't want to return here after college either.

Those in Need

Sometimes it's easier to project.

Sometimes the aid takes the role of bad cop.

If they understand, it will not be personal.

Sometimes it's easier to run.

Space can be good, but aid must be ready to chase.

A firm tie can be a saving line in the opportune time.

Sometimes the tongue is more potent than any prescription.

Never underestimate talking.

Often the tension coiled inside can be released without fuss.

Speech is the soap to undo the tight knot.

And who wields the tongue in use?

Perhaps a friend.

Perhaps a simple listener.

Perhaps someone who's living is helping.

No matter the cause,

No matter the situation,

The path to escape can be positively found.

There's always a way out,

While avoiding checking out.

Boiling Point

Did you expect us to be happy for you?

Did you expect us to make it part of our personal affairs?

You blind sided us.

Did you ever consider how this could go unspeakably wrong?

Do you care you've butchered a chance at a positive relationship with us.

This is now a masterful masquerade.

If this turns out to be a scam, it is arguable you deserve it.

This is mail-order, not a forged bond.

And you expect us to give her a chance?

Fine.

Shouldn't judge before you meet right?

Well the fact anyone goes through with this speaks clear.

Don't expect us to invest in this.

The anger sets in slowly.
You disregard how this affects us.
Not that you ever cared anyways, at the core.

You say words of sweetness;
The after-effect is poison.
I see past your tongue.

Know this:
I don't anticipate visits in the coming years.
Nor should you.

New Art

You were like silhouettes.

Seen before but never quite knew.

I watched you but we never much met.

Nonetheless you seemed nice, and cool too.

Tonight through a friend we actually meet,

And I find I was correct sensing friends.

We all talk casually as we eat;

I find I hope these new ties won't end.

 In and out of conversation we go,

Some of it serious some of it silly.

Overall it was a good time though.

As we laugh I see your colors show fully.

As I drift to sleep I think,

Thank you for the new memories we will draw and ink.

Sparks

Not even a spark.

This one was vapor.

But still the pressure built, demanding attention.

A spark.

This one tried to catch.

A weak flame erupted.

A year of work to catch it,

Rewarded with the pittance of a few months to burn.

The distant light.

It beckoned, shown at the end of the tunnel.

But only an allusion. 

Sleep ripped it into the night.

The shadow of a spark.

Gone unnoticed until its gone.

Remnants tell a story,

But it is lost to the past.

The fickle spark.

It flies and spits,

But catch it will never.

Playing with it is tempting,

But a burn is ensured.

The coals.

They are warm and inviting.

No explosion.

No spit.

Only shelter.

The fuel.

The most versatile.

Light up a calm kindling,

Or strike up a wild flame.

Not reusable, but sustainable.

Valete et Bona Fortuna Amici

Maybe its been a while since we talked,

Maybe we totally lost contact.

Maybe we'll forever be in separate circles.

Oh well.

I remember you.

I miss everyone of you.

I will miss you being close by.

But congratulations!

You've crushed high school.

You're ready to enter the real world.

So go crush it.

Go learn what college is like.

Go have fun and grow.

Go make more memories, more friends.

And keep the high school times:

The good the bad and the ugly.

Remember what person you were then.

Keep some of that person,

And grow into a fuller one over the frame.

Spread Jesus's love.

Befriend the meek.

Make close those who need a friend.

And maybe, if the chance should arise,

See God change someone two inches in front of you.

Good bye and good luck Friends.

Complicated

As a younger kid I wanted to grow up.

As a teenager I still want to grow up.

But why does life have to get so complicated?

All I ever wanted was friends and some love.

I see what happens around me.

It's so real, so why does it feel like a game?

I have feelings; its not like I'm dead inside.

So why can I take the perspective of a game?

In elementary school friend problems were tattlers.

In high school friend problems are mistakes made.

So why does everything have to get so complicated?

All I want is to help those in need of someone dependable.

But sometimes screw ups happen.

I see what happens around me.

It's so real, so why does it feel like a game?

I have feelings; its not like I'm dead inside.

So why can I take the perspective of a game?

Yeah I gravitate to the "underdogs".

I think they should see themselves as awesome dogs.

It's never too late to change. Never too late to pick a new course.

And sometimes it's perfect as is.

I see what happens around me.

It's so real, so why does it feel like a game?

I have feelings; its not like I'm dead inside.

So why can I take the perspective of a game?

It's because sometimes feeling is too much.

Sometimes turning it into mere calculations clears my head.

Sometimes I need a different perspective for clarity.

And sometimes I just need to check out.

JM 2.0

Once I hurt a friend without meaning to.

Now I find it happened once more.

Once the hurt went through a brother.

Now the pain went through friends.

But both times, I started it.

I thought we were playing and having fun.

I thought it would end okay.

I was wrong.

I am ashamed.

I am sorry.

I can't unring a bell;

I wish I could.

I hope one day you will forgive me

For accidentally starting a gang up.

I'm going to slip out of your life for now.

But remember, I don't abandon friends.

So should you ask, I will answer.

And I will not forget this happened.

The scar is made.

So I'll be more careful,

Knowing now what I should have known then.

How the Others Grow Up

We learn from society.

"Jonny, when you're about middle school age, 

you'll start to get special feelings for girls."

Or the other option.

"Jane, when you're about middle school age, 

you'll start to get special feelings for boys."

No one tells you how the others grow up.

We have to figure it out ourselves.

I went dumbstruck around this classmate. 

There was something magnetic about her.

I wanted to get to know her, be her friend.

Once we were great friends. 3rd grade.

Of course, this was 6th grade.

I was still innocent and knew nothing helpful.

I tried to befriend her.

We wrote letters to each other for a few weeks.

It was fun, and I thought I had made her my friend.

But then our friendship structure failed.

I don't know what went wrong.

I never did anything.

But I couldn't talk to her anymore easily.

She made me too uncomfortable.

I wanted to make conversation, but fell silent.

Maybe... May..be... I liked her?

No couldn't be, could it?

But I never wanted to kiss her.

I didn't have interested in sex then/knew much about it.

But I did want to be around her.

I wanted her attention.

I was somewhat jealous others got along with her better.

I didn't know what to think.

No one prepares you for it.

You find it yourself.

Distraction

Dislike is easier to feel than sadness.

I'd rather vent about an old wound than listen to a current bruise.

It makes it easier the events are unrelated.

I love home.

What happens when home is suppose to be more than one place?

Home is where the heart is right? Where family is.

No.

Home is where you are comfortable.

It needs no people.

It only needs the feeling.

And right now I'm not there.

So turning my back on sadness,

I confront old feelings yet to be dealt with.

Bad Blood Under Old Scars

Once we were friends.

Once I would take your side till the end.

Once I realized the end is already come and gone.

Used to be I'd never admit this.

Used to be I'd never try to be mean to you.

Used to be is no more.

Now you are just "that straight girl".

Now I don't feel so friendly.

Now I am nice to you for diplomatic reasons.

I've been good, kept you from being ostracized.

I've been nice, kept peace after you fall apart and deal insults.

I've been more than fair, kept your reputation as it is without this information.

You said yourself you're not a good friend sometimes. 

Perhaps it would've been better to tell me to stay away because you rather not hurt me.

But instead you led me on, and I so willingly followed.

Shame on me then.

I did have my own purpose though, it wasn't completely blind.

And I stuck around afterwards,
In part to prove I didn't like you only because I once fell for you.

So I think this is an unofficial goodbye.

Goodbye friend, N.

Residual

It was nice getting to know you a little bit that week.

If we crossed paths more often,

Or even had met sooner,

I bet we could've been excellent friends.

Somewhere in my deeper chambers, I wonder...

What would it be like to really know you?

What would it be like to build our lives together?

-Even if it was temporarily-

Somehow we shared a lot of stories the first night,

Ironically that was the same day we met.

I wonder what would have happened if I was single then too.

Would I had been brave enough to try getting closer?

Would my stories be much different?

What does it matter?

You probably saw me as a sibling or som'n.

Or perhaps still a stranger, not yet a friend.

But now I notice residual thoughts;

I need these out of my mind alone.

Your story was intriguing.

Your mind was complex.

Your art was hypnotizing.

I realized I held you in higher regards then other friends I'd just met.

But it was just temporary.

You left for college.

I stayed not yet finished through high school.

We have lives much different now. 

So I end:

I hope you found someone.

I hope you get to do all you aspire to do.

And I hope we don't forget each other,

Because we had fun hanging out. 

That trip was a blast.

Last minute sleep over.

Getting lost.

Stolen cell phone.

And everything else.

Meanie

Letts put it this way shall we:

I got my butt handed to me more in AP English 3 than anything before.

Yup. Raw truth. I have a lot to learn.

I tried to take it with understanding.

I knew it was for my betterment. 

That didn't stop me from crying.

I am glad it happened though,

Not happy about it, but glad.

See the thing is,

Happiness is transient. Fleeting.

It comes and goes throughout the day.

But at sundown, you can still say you had a good day,

Perhaps because you learned something,

Perhaps because you released a tension,

Perhaps because you have the mindset to believe it.

This Ride

Hold on cuz these days are wild.

One day you'll see it was worth pushing.

Today I see you pulled under:

So I lunge to pull you up;

I pray for you:
that you find peace,
that you become stronger,
that you gain wisdom,
that you see the end. 

Imagine:
you're the big spoon,
 I'll be the smaller..
you can burry you fears, sadness, anything, into me..
I'll hold you safe..
We can be each other's safety posts.

I'd do most anything if it would help. 

Once a friend always a friend. 

No matter how much it is life pulls apart.

You have my word.

And if my words shatters, I regret my choices which led to such.

Tell me how to right the wrong.

I will do it.

Learn to trust me. 

I am unlike those before,

The ones who send "friends" through hell.

Time will show colors.

So hold on cuz this ride is wild.

One day you'll see it was worth pushing.

Today I made a difference for you.


<thank you God for giving me a chance to help>
<help me to show your love>
<show me how to use my tendencies well>