“The SAT is a scam. It has been around for 50 years. It has never measured anything. And it continues to measure nothing. And the whole game is that everybody who does well on it, is so delighted by their good fortune that they don’t want to attack it. And they are the people in charge. Because of course, the way you get to be in charge is by having high test scores. So it’s this terrific kind of rolling scam that every so often, somebody sort of looks and says—well, you know, does it measure intelligence? No. Does it predict college grades? No. Does it tell you how much you learned in high school? No. Does it predict life happiness or life success in any measure? No. It’s measuring nothing.” –

John Katzman, founder of The Princeton Review

(source)

Reno is coming up again……

So yeah Reno is coming up again. But I don’t have any old men for boyfriends in jazz band this year so I don’t think anything crazy should happen. Ya feel me? 

Golly I really hope nothing happens. 

I think I like someone I’m not supposed to like

wow , so do i really have these feelings right now. not for him……. lankyj…………………………………………………………………………………this is so not happening again :(

I love Elisa

That’s my homegirl and I’m so going to miss her when she graduates. :/ well then 

The Poems I Have Entered in the Contest

So I just recently entered the Youth Poet Laureate contest, and I have to say I’m really proud of my work. So these are the three poems I decided to enter. 

-This poem is called “Oh Sweet Love”: 

I don’t think I’ve felt this feeling before. 

It’s something quite different than what I used to know. 

He makes every part of me tingle, the wind through my ears, down my spine. It’s his faint touch, his distant hazel eyes that hypnotize me. Quite gentle. Like smooth fingers strumming the sweet sounds of a guitar. A pure simple sound that is extremely direct. Gentle as a baby’s touch. The wind whispering in my ears. Something gentle like that. Oh gentle just like that. I can’t look in those eyes for too long.  I might just faint of longing, lingering passion, yet to be satisfied. My miserable frustration that is just so beautiful and graceful. Stop making me suffer, but it feels so good. Very pleasing I must say.

Why does he mean so much to me? What a rhetorical question. Myself comes into this vibrant light when he surrounds me with his love. I see that light shining from him as well. Like there’s still a little bit of good in the both of us. That light which warms me, shines on me like the sun, but I can see it quite easily. A vibrant light that is as the sunset on a cool spring day. Just perfect.

He never seems to escape me,  but I know I lose myself through the confusion of love. It’s a struggle, a long walk, with no come-up. But the journey’s pretty breathtaking, too beautiful for words. Rich like dark chocolate.

Though my heart beats harder, not faster.

A graceful journey as if in the sky with no obstacles, likewise there’s a moment when I compare the journey of love to playing in traffic. And now you see my struggle.

It’s as if his presence merges with my presence, and creates something damn beautiful. 

This feeling, those eyes, myself, and us. 

What shall I do for our next encounter as distant lovers? Not so distant when we come together like two hands clasped in love. I yearn for that day. When that gap that stretches for miles is closed, we will be interconnected in such a way that I’ve escaped to myself.

-This poem is called “As a Dancer” 

As a dancer I have permission to be beautiful. To be confident. To understand how I feel. To go completely and utterly crazy. Insane. 

But I am technically incorrect. It’s never enough. A girl, a dancer am I? Am I really? I see myself as a dancer.  I don’t see grace. I don’t see the light I’m supposed to see. 

My foot never points enough, my leg is never high enough, I don’t look “good” enough….a true dancer doesn’t lose herself. Or maybe she does. If I may, I do understand the standard I’m set to for loving it so much. My confidence and love for it will come off as me knowing way too much, and then I end up knowing nothing. Dance is such an eluding creature.

It’s not that hard as long as I can’t see myself, and coming to that conclusion I’m able to tell myself never to give up my fate of being a dancer. Being worthy. 

And yes they may say dancing will never get me anywhere, but it will get me exactly where I need to go :….happiness. My ultimate joy. 

Have you ever told yourself to smile in the rain? I have. It’s completely worth it when dealing with my creature of dance turning the natural forces against me. Turning life against me.

But that’s just it. If it makes me so happy, why the hell am I so sad and disappointed and so not worthy?  Will I ever be enough? And how far will I have to go to avoid the breaking point of utter sadness.

But in the world that I’ve enveloped myself in, it doesn’t free me from my pain and regret. It takes me there. Very alluring is it.  That’s not bad thing I hope. I sure hope it’s not a bad thing to eat the apple of the tree when I’ve been told not to.                        

In this crazy world of mine, I need just one more turn. Just one. 

This poem is called “Oh Confidence, Oh Life”

I walk through this world, this crowd, before these people whose eyes could kill.

I used to be one of those people with that initial shyness. Too afraid to speak, but too crazy to be left out of the crowd. That’s just one of those things. I just couldn’t let that go. I call that being a fly on the wall. Never seen, never heard, but I am always there.

I never really seem content with myself. Is there something I’m doing right for the very first time? Am I being real enough, is that up to the standards? Huh, anything for the community right?

The status quo has got me stuck in my low-ranking, irrelevant social position. Social norms have got me beat. On the ground, beat into nothingness, but it’s not like I was really there anyway.

And there’s nothing wrong with considering others in my journey back to life, but the community is the one forcing me toward my own demise, and I just sit back and let it happen. 

But I’m too crazy to let those colors around the world in which I live in, the greens, blues, reds….I’m too crazy to let them burn me into the pit of my frustration, failure, and sadness. I refuse to let that happen. 

Poetry are my wings that are just a stepping stone of greatness in this journey of life in which I have sought an answer to for so long. Forevermore searching for what the meaning of life really is. Beyond those faces, beyond social norms.  And this poetry thing carries me as I fly. I fly. I take the world by storm, and the lights just shine on me. How about that. I cause success. I generate nature’s bloom of happiness. 

I’m a success because I decided to let a confident mind take form into existence. My head held high, my body on the move past what is “acceptable” in society. My mind bloomed and generated ideas that I would love the world to know. But the world will never cause me to lose the most valuable thing a person can ask for, and that is simply life. My confidence gave me life.

And I am simply a success because I decided to let a confident mind take form into existence.