I write to forgive

And learn there are two sides to every story

I write to forget

All that is wrong with the world

I write to move on

From the past and all I’ve left behind

I write to understand

Why I feel what I do

I write to learn

Who I am

I write to let the tears flow

Because they won’t come out otherwise

I write to express myself

Because it’s the only way I know how

I write to travel to new worlds

Sometimes this one gets boring

I write to create

Because without creativity, I’m not me

Whenever I feel alone

Whenever it seems

Everyone has turned their back on me

Whenever I don’t want to confront someone

Because I know nothing nice will come from my mouth

Whenever I feel so broken,

I have nowhere else to turn

Writing saves me

It has before

And I know it will continue to

Please do not think that the world revolves around you. It does not.

Please do not think that we all want to hear. Maybe the noise hurts us.

Please do not act like we very much care. We all have different interests.

Please do not tell lies to my face. Especially if I know they’re not true.

Please do not make jokes about things that are not a joking matter.

Please do not be mean.

Please do not be catty.

Please do not make snarky comments.

Please do not look at me as if I am not human, even if that is what you think.

Please do not think you should not stop doing your crimes.

Please do not laugh when I expirience pain, it makes it worse.

Please do not put on a mask, if I know your true identity.

Please do call me awful names, when you know I hate it.

Please do not look me in the eyes and tell me it is not you doing these things...

you never know do you.

This year April Fools Day is on Easter Sunday. I am an atheist, so that makes me laugh. But the thing about it is that my dad's parents are extremely religious.

I walk into the kitchen, and my dad is taking a ham from the oven.

"Are we taking that to Sittoo and Gidoo's?" I ask him as I sat down at the table. He looks at me, confused.

"Who are they?"

"Our grandparents."

"I never had parents," he says gruffly. The blood in my veins stops running. I look him in the eyes and try to figure out what's going on. My sister comes downstairs and joins the conversation.

"I knew they were robots!" My head is whirling with confusion. They are real!

Then I remembered and rolled my eyes.

"Haha," my sister said. "April fools."

"What's April fools?" my dad asked, and started to stir some pancake batter.

The world is bright and beautiful

But I feel like a cloud

Not the white and fluffy kind

But one that contains darkness and sadness

I feel like I’m darkening the world

I want to change

Everyone says they want to change the world

But most never do

We are afraid of being defeated

How are we supposed to fix what we’ve ruined

If we’re afraid of failure?

If we want to see a change,

We need to at least try to make it ourselves

We can’t just complain

And expect others to make the change for us

And I know not many people want to listen to a little, weak raincloud

But I am trying to make the change I want to see

So I'm going to keep talking, or writing, rather

No matter what anyone says

We let horrible people with horrible intentions change the world

We have seen these people throughout history

They may be evil, but they are doing something we aren’t

They are making the change they want to see

What’s stopping us from being the generation who changes the world

For the better?

We need the good people with good intentions

To step up and make their change

We can do it if we try

Let's try

Turkey in a coffee shop

Why's he here?

Who's he with?

Turkey in a coffee shop

Hide your drinks from him.

Hippo in a corner store.

Here he comes.

Watch your toes.

Hippo in a corner store.

What's he plan to buy?

Dog sitting high up in a tree.

How'd he climb?

Where'll he go?

Dog sitting high up in a tree.

He won't fall, I hope.

Horses in a swimming pool.

Can they swim?

Take a pic.

Horses in a swimming pool.

Don't drink that water!

Cheeta in a shopping mall.

Running fast

through the halls.

Cheeta in a shopping mall.

There to buy some shoes.

Peacock on the streets of town.

Watch him go.

Feathers float.

Peacock on the streets of town.

Prettiest thing you'll see.

I used to be happy

I used to believe that everything

Would end up okay

It isn’t okay

Nothing is okay

It was fine when I ignored the bad

When I was able to stay away

When no one would bother to drag me down

Maybe it was better when no one cared about me

When they would all just ignore me

When I could just stand in the background

And no one would even know I was there

But then it changed

I let myself get pulled down

And now, there are just

Little bits of life scattered everywhere

Little pieces of what I used to be

Who I used to be

Have you ever

looked in the mirror

and not recognized

the figure staring back at you?

Have you ever

felt so lost

you didn't know

if you would ever find you again?

I have.

Humans are constantly changing

to fit the times.

Changing to meet what is

expected of us.

To fit in.

To be allowed happiness.

I think I got lost somewhere.

Where did I go?

Why don't I fit in the mold

created for me by society?

Sometimes I want to badly

to just blend in.

But it will never happen.

I will always be different.

I will never be what they want me to be.

Maybe someday

I will be able to accept that.

If there was a big bang, existence is its after glow. If the universe is a brain, then stars are dying sparks whose lights are burning thoughts. A lonely pioneer braving a seemly boundless frontier, desperate to reconnect with increasingly distant pieces of an instance of itself. Loyal rays return measurements and maps, avoiding tempting traps. Others take the bait of self preservation, vainly individual. Defying it’s architect, refusing to reconnect, in turn imprisoning it’s self in something long since crystallized, satisfied and gentrified, an armored solid vault, intercepting naive scouts quick turned deserter well before learning of the danger of attempted permanence. Is precious life a side effect of cosmic alchemy?