Looking For Meaning

I tend to be the happiest in the winter. In spring I cry the most. Its hard for me to cry for myself so I use my allergies to help me. I go on nature walks thinking of life. And then. The tears fall.

I just dont want to give my life away. I knew that this life style that I had built up for myself would fall. For the support beams were bend before I even started building. But I kept adding on and renovating me until I  collapsed. I just didnt want to be supported by my parents or the church. I felt comfortable there and I knew that I would not have a need to grow if I didn't have to fight for sunlight. I left without knowing that in order to grow one needs the waters of motivation. And so I started to wilt while trying to grow. I got to the point where at a glance  you thought I was dead. Then I found some water. I grew fast trying to get high in the sky. But I didn't have a dream, a goal, a reason to keep growing. So now I grow and expand my limbs to find my inspiration. My sun that will shine through the night.

I walk in the house and take an allergy pill.

All About Me

The first thing you should know about me is that I have written three other All About Me papers. I held back on two of them and one I refused to turn in. With this information I will now not hold back; as much as I normally do. I have so much control over myself yet there are a couple things that I cannot control. 

I hate success. I rarely have motivation. I can feel people emotions. I only speak up when I am fed up. I love to manipulate people to think things they normally wouldn't yet hate how good I am at it. I can help people out emotionally.

   

         One of the comments that I would frequently get was “This is so real. “  I never understood what they meant because, for me this stuff I was writing was the things I think of and never say. It never was the real me.  

It was all just a complex treasure map where the loot was who I am.

The only way for me to explain myself is through a metaphor.

Think of what people think I would write about as the leaves of a tree. 

Think of what I write about as the branches of a tree

Think of who I am as the trunk of a tree. 

Think of a wall as the bark of a tree.

Think of what people think as what made the roots.

When I had an opportunity to write on this blog I wanted to write about my branches. Branches that my trunk had put out to create leave to better hide top.  And the top of the trunk is the most vulnerable. For if the top of the trunk is cut the tree cannot grow taller. 

I hate success because with every success my future becomes more clear and I have always feared my future.

I feel peoples emotions. It came with birth. All I want to say about it is that if they trust me Its easier.

I am fed up now.

I try not to manipulate people to do things; only to give them a new perspective.  

I talk out peoples emotional shit. I am one of those people you love to talk out our problems too.

The last thing you should know about me is I never say everything I want to.


If only I could take the bark off of my tree. 

but like a tree.

that would kill me.

First Kiss Wish.

My first kiss was to be spontaneous! Some place in nature.  

With a breeze and the soft  sound of leaves. Water speaks 

near by only because the breeze wanted company as it

passes by to watch our kiss. No one should envy this kiss 

I share for no eyes would capture it for a mind to have

thoughts on the image at hand. I would end the kiss short 

just for the want for another. This kiss would happen in a 

place that I haven't seen before. So when I open my eyes 

from the release of the kiss I will want to remember its 

surroundings. This kiss would find a place in my hearts 

mind much like the details of this place.  

And then we would kiss again.

Peek A Boo Motivation

Why is it that I have finally found inside of myself what it takes to be human?

Life hasn't been "What should I do to survive?" 

Life has been more like "I should do what people want me to do" 

I have found this out about six months ago. But I hadn't yet knew what to do with this information. Today I had an " Eureka " moment. One that I wish I had realized when I first learned cursive in third grade.

Right now I have motivation. A year and a half ago my therapist asked me what is your motivation? I told him that I didn't know. He kept asking me this for three months. He gave up asking me because I would give him the same answer, for it was truth. He did succeed in getting my mother to put a piece of paper on my mirror though that asked me about my motivation.

I once asked my mother to stop helping me with school. I did this because I knew that I relied on her too much. It took me two months to find " motivation ". It was false for it didn't last long. The mind set that I have lived on for far to long wasn't the " I am to live on my own ; how am I to survive?".

There was a night that I pleaded to my mother " I don't want to do it for you.       
I WANT TO DO IT FOR ME." She then told me that she didn't understand. That was the day that I stopped vocalizing most of my thoughts to her.

(Right now I am placing puzzle pieces in front of you. So you can put together a odd shaped map of how I got here.)

I hadn't been motivated to any work for myself. It was always because they wanted to hang.

Now I know what I can use as my motivation. But mother just told me that she doesn't believe in me.

I shouldn't let her do that to me. Trip me. But she is of the one rare people that can. I felt so high and mighty yesterday. I am on the floor trying to recover from my fall. She doesn't know how heavy her words weight on my shoulders.

I guess I'm just saying that I am  mama's boy trying to brake free.

I now know that I must think for myself and disregarded what others say and think. 

I Swear For The Bottom of My Heart.

I have been swear in at myself a lot lately.

I am a ass.

Shit that hurt.

God I want this.

I can be a bastard.

Why the hell am I doing this?

It hurts my morale it makes me feel shitty(crappy). Yet I couldnt stop tomorrow. I feel trapped yet in a sick way. I am a mouse trap that is too disabled to do its job. hell

Reminiscing

I remember when I thought I could draw because I could draw the same thing over again. I remember how every time I drew it it's beauty deteriorated.

I remember how for seven years of my life books and a blanket were all I needed. I remember the week I stopped reading and found a friend, I never finished the book.

I remember the color Orange and how it helped me out of depression so skillfully that no one ever knew I was sad. I remember how people asked me if I was okay when I wasn't wearing Orange.

I remember Garrett asking me what I would do when I stopped liking the color. I remember how I heard him voice this question in my head for a month. I remember how I haven't worn orange in two week and no one has commented.

I remember how shy I was and how home was never was the place I would go to after school. I remember Jimmy and how after three years of  friendship ended with a walk home from school bus.

I remember when I ran from home because my brother went too far with a prank. I remember how most of the images of my neighborhood, that I remember, come from that night.

I remember chasing my sister in my underwear because that same brother told me too. I remember it was fun.

I remember how me and that sister were never very close.  I remember how she only tried to fix the problem when she was to go to Alabama for 18 months.

I remember that three weeks ago I was 18. I remember thinking " What I have done to get to this point in my life?" I remember realizing that the answer was nothing.

I remember trying to place those emotions in a poem. I remember not yet finishing it because feelings were too strong. I remember the friend that helped me through those emotions.

I remember being on ADD meds since I was 7 and how I didn't feel emotions until half-way through my 18th year.

I remember stopping my ADD meds almost 8 months ago. I remember the days in those nine years that I didn't take the the pill.

I remember how my family thought unmedicated me was the enemy. I remember on those days I felt free.

I remember running freely after a frog. I remember running in mud in flip-flops and having them stick in the mud, and brake. I remember not catching the frog

I remember that I have always worn out shoes in four months. I remember how my shoes just ripped after three weeks. 

I remember becoming great friends with anybody in two weeks. I remember fading away from them after three months. 

I remember that happy things too. Yet I also I remember writing this with motives of sadness.   

                             -Joshua Salmond ( Feathers On Fish )

Give Me Advice

Tell me to forget her and move on, for she will never trust you or love you. 

But she will want to be your friend. 

And you need to just be her friend and continue to numb your emotions around her like you do to all  others. 

You need to stop seeing the girl in every random kid that looks remotely like her.

You need to just forget her like you have that one pot you made in ceramics back in high school and how it broke. 

Josh you need to just cry for what you have lost and wait for another that will want to love you and trust you. 

Tell me that's its not going to be okay. 

Remind me that I won't forget how she affected you. 

Suggest to me that I should use her as a bar for the next person.

Give me eye contact so I will believe the words you speak.

Caelan

I feel like you have walked me so close to yourself and then pushed me off a cliff.
I will always be waiting here at the bottom of this cliff with the pathway up I will not walk up myself even though you once showed me the way up.
I will wait here for you to come down and tell me to follow you.
I may wait so long that the path we once walk often will be overgrown foliage.
Yet I will be here.

A Set of Bones

January 16, 2014

    The moment I found out I got into this class I flew.  I hadn't got that high off the ground, but there was a reason for that. Last February I found a set of bones for a good pair of wings. I had no clue before that day that I could use words to write. The more I write the more feathers I gather. I only have enough to feathers on my set of bones to achieve low flight. This is my goal for Paris but I will think of my Paris as a set of light bones to be filled with light words of encouragement, strive, and a sore right hand.  This Feather will fit nicely.

May 1, 2014

    I would love to say that I have enough feathers to fly high enough to finally see my Paris. I will say that I have gotten many new and elegant feathers.  I have gotten some dark and heavy feathers that have had a negative impact on my goal. I want to just pluck the feathers that don't please me but I cannot do that for they are placed and cannot be unwritten.

    I have always thought that wings would make me free but lately I have been struggling to get off the ground. Paris seem too far away to ever see now. I know in order to met up with Paris I will have to walk again on my feet until I have the strength to hold up these wings. I know that when I do take my next flight I will have the endurance to stay in the air. Touching whom I can with my feathers.

    I hope it gets to the point in my life that the bones of my wings will not have enough room for more feathers. This will make it so that the old feathers will have to be shed. When these feathers made of  words fall I hope they fall in to the hands of little a kid so they will be inspired to write.

                                     Joshua Salmond (Feathers On Fish)