My heart

I can't tell you how my heart does it. Keeps it together and can hold so much.

I am not one to open up and talk about my feelings to anyone, ever. I am the type of person that just listens to other peoples hearts. I like to help people when they get there heart broken, or when there heart feels like it's upside down and isn't working the right way. Then they ask me how my heart is. In reply it is always the same response.

I'm fine.

I don't let my heart open up and talk to people. I am too scared of what it might say.

My heart is a secure bunker that takes time and skill to get into. It is only opened up to things of the most importance in my life.

I have made the mistake of letting people into my life that have left a bomb, got out and waited to watch my heart crumble to the ground. I have sense then double my security and made sure that everyone is cleared before entering. It would probably be easier to break into the White House lets just say that.

Sometimes I wish I could have a talk with my heart. Tell it to chill out on the caring. Let it know that not every single thing in my life has to be cared about, but no matter what it always ends up doing the exact opposite. Don't get me wrong caring is a good thing and I am glad my heart is functioning in that way but it sometimes works to hard on caring and not enough on knowing what is best for me.

I feel like I was given to many feelings for a guy. Like aren't guys supposed to just be able to forget? That would be nice that's for sure. It might just because my brain and heart are connected by a short cord and my heart is able to over power my brain, even if my brain is just trying to forget.

Your heart can kill you, but is the only thing that makes us feel alive.

With out my heart I would not be able to pick up my niece and hold her and listen to her tiny little heart beat at a million beats per second. I wouldn't be able to hear her crying and never want to hear it again because something that precious should never be crying.

Without my heart I wouldn't be able to hug my mom every night and realize that one day I wont be able to feel her arms around me.

I wouldn't be able to feel sadness and how much it hurts to be lied to.

I wouldn't be able to be who am.

My heart is who I am, the real me.

So get to know me and I might introduce you.

Just a simple happy post

For some reason every time I have to write a blog post I feel like I have to be sad. I am not down for that tonight. I am actually having a great day today and I am going to stay happy. This weekend has been amazing. Senior prom, playing lacrosse all week and weekend, and a solid three hour nap today. What could be better. I have grown to actually like writing on my blog. Put in some good music and relax and just write on sunday nights. I know I am supposed to not do both in the same night but this week has been a little busy. So this is just going to be a simple post saying that being happy is good and you should try it out. All you have to do is things you love and not let others get you down. There is so much to life and being in high school we don't even scratch the surface. None of us have had the opportunity to look into someones eyes and know you are going to spend eternity with them, at least I don't any of us have, and if you have then more power to ya. We haven't been able to look at a child and be able to call it our own. We haven't been to a collage and seen how much there is to life. Once again we are almost done and are just about to start life, and i'm pretty pumped.

I dont like remembering

I remember going to the first day of church.
I remember the song me and Alex boxed to.
I remember not being friends anymore.
I remember when she got cancer.
I remember when she died.
I remember how he cut me out of his life, just because I was trying to help.
I remember skateboarding.
I remember tackling him in fourth grade, it gave me a headache and I had to go home.
I remember being a happy kid.
I remember missing my brother.
I remember him trading our family for it.
I remember all the fights.
I remember my mom trying to hide that she was crying.
I remember the night when they told us.
I remember Valentines day.
I remember no one caring.
I remember no one coming to say good bye.
I remember freshman year.
I remember hating everyone.
I remember the batman shirt I still have, and i bet she doesn't even remember me.
I remember running away because my sister yelled at me for spilling the lemonade.
I remember how hard it was to just walk away.
I remember how judgmental everyone was.
I remember them trying to intimidate me.
I remember my first time sitting in that chair.
I remember the email that changed my life.
I remember getting in a fight right before a baptism.
I remember beating Eldorado in eighth grade.
I remember the feeling of the burning turf under my feat.
I remember going back and hating it.
I remember my parents figuring out that we would always walk home together.
I remember going under water and coming up like i just shook hands with the devil.
I remember when he shaved his head.
I remember when he never showed p and left me just waiting.
I remember what real friends feel like.
I remember it being fake.
I remember watching the stars.

My video

Film Festival Video 

This isn't even going to be about shoes.

This is going to be one of those times when Nelson gives a prompt and I am going to somewhat follow it and then go a totally different way with it.

I love my shoes. I have a solid Four pairs. Five if you count sandals. Let's meet my shoes. 

Shoe 1- These are my nikes. Well one of my nikes. These are more new then my second pair. I got them for Christmas and was a little surprised because I never get another pair of shoes until I need them,  but hey, I wasn't complaining. These shoes fit a little bit tighter then my others. This might be because I got too small of a size but felt to bad to return them, because you know returning a present is just rude. So, I squeeze into them. These are the shoes that I wear when I am wearing clothes that match. Don't get me wrong I do NOT pick out my "outfits" and make sure they look good together. I just make sure stuff matches, because there is nothing worse then not matching in my mind. Also, these shoes make my feet hot which means stinky feet sometimes. Which is the downside to these shoes. 

Shoe Pair 2- These are also my nikes. These are much older then the pair above but I still like them just as much. These are a lot looser on my feet then my red nikes. Which means they are more comfortable but also take away the feeling like I can go run a million miles. Another plus is that they always keep my feet comfortably cool. I also where these shoes to match. 

Shoe pair 3- These are my church shoes. They are extremely comfortable and fit like a glove. These are only worn for church or events when I am dressing up. I have had these for a very long time and have gone to many school dances in them. They have been through a lot of awesome door step scenes and also the awkward ones. They are getting a little old and I am going to have to retire them before I go on the mish. Gotta get an upgrade. Which brings me to why this isn't even about shoes. 

Shoe pair 4- They are sandals. Ya thats about it. They have a cafeteria band from CEU (football Camp) still on them which I am very proud that it is still on there. 

Shoe pair 5- These are my running shoes. The newest addition to my shoe collection. They are already dirty because pretty much the only place I go running is up in the mountains but that is for another post. These shoes are still being broken in but they are very comfortable and super breathable. So I like them so far. 

Anyways.

Is it just me that ever thinks about objects not just being objects, like if they had feelings how would they feel. Almost like Toy Story but with everything.

I will start with shoes. Tomorrow I don't know what shoes I am going to wear. Not Pair 3. For sure not 4. Probably pair 2. Then I think, how does that make the other shoes feel. Left behind? Not liked? Not Comforting enough? How awful would it be if every object actually had feelings and knew what was going on.

My pillow would feel like a punching bag that has to comfort my head at night, gets left all day, and then on bad days gets smacked around without even knowing what it did. Then it brings the thought to my head, is that a purpose a pillow, to get your anger out on it? 

What about that sock that we all have that never gets worn. It stays at the bottom of our drawer everyday in the dark. Surrounded by socks that get worn once a week. Have been washed in the last month. Have actually felt what its like to be put on. It would give up getting holes in it all over if it could be worn just once. I try to wear every sock I have just because if socks do have feelings, I don't want them to feel left out, because that feeling sucks. 

Then there is the golf ball that was hit only once, and for the couple of seconds that it is flying through the air doing the exact thing its supposed to do. Until suddenly it splashes down and starts to sink in the pond. Looking up at you as it sinks deeper and deeper. Watching you decide if it is worth going in for, and then watching you walk away. I hate thinking like this because it makes me feel awful because I know how it feels to be left behind.

People are the exact same way. We can't always yell out and say no don't forget me, please wear me around and act like you care to have me, or stop beating me up and actually show you like my company. This doesn't mean we don't feel these things. I sure do. 

Writing makes me sleepy

I can't sleep. While it seems like everyone is off in every corner of the world I am in Highland Utah awake laying in bed staring at my ceiling. I wish my room didn't have a ceiling. Instead, I wish it was glass. So I could look up at the stars all night long. (Fun fact, I love the stars and space. I would go star gazing over just about anything). How cool would it be to be able to just watch the universe as you drift off to sleep. All the galaxy's amaze me. They are all so big and have so much unknown to them. It makes me think what even am I, compared to them. Is there other life out there looking out and seeing me? If there is then we can't be to different if we are both staring into the stars. This probably makes you think I want to be a astronaut. I couldn't be an astronaut. I would never want to come back to earth.  After all maybe that wouldn't be so bad. I would be able to star gaze all the time. I wouldn't have to come back and live with all the fake people in my life. I would want to stay out in space making friends with shooting stars and play baseball with meteors. Now I'm starting to fall asleep. Finally.

Goodnight.