How I've felt about writing lately,

This is a #stolen piece and although (luckily) none of us can relate to this, it is still important to read

“Dear Ma,
I’m sure the news has reached you by now. I hear
the police cars outside, their deafening sirens a
welcome change from the dead silence in the
classroom.
I don’t think I will make it. It’s getting harder to
breathe and I am feeling drowsy. I wish you were
here. Fussing over me like you do when I hurt
myself. You’re probably outside the school gates
right now. I am hoping you can hear my thoughts.
We were in English period when they stormed into
the class. It all happened so fast I didn’t have
time to think. They shot ma’am first. “Get under
your tables” she yelled before she fell to the
ground. We scrambled to hide under them.
I sat still, my eyes on the floor as a pair of black
shoes got closer and closer. His shoes were a lot
bigger than mine. I was too afraid to look at his
face. He shot me twice. One in each leg. I fell to
the floor in seconds. Ahmed who sat beside me
screamed when he saw the blood oozing out of my
legs. They shot him in the chest thrice. No one
screamed after that.
I lay very still and pressed my eyes shut.
Pretending to be dead as I waited to get shot
again. Each time I heard a gunshot, I would hold
my breath and wait for the pain. But they didn’t
shoot me again. “We’re done here. Keep moving”
someone said. Their footsteps ringing in my head
long after they were gone.
I lay there, looking around the classroom. The
silence interrupted only by the sound of the fan,
that continued to spin as if nothing had happened.
You know Ma, I realise that lives have no value.
It makes me wonder why you insisted that I finish
my homework before school. Why you spent hours
teaching me geometry. Why you get angry when I
chew loudly. Doesn’t it seem like such a waste
now?
To spend our time on petty things, like
Potassium’s position in the periodic table, learning
my mother tongue, or remembering to be a
gentleman. None of it could save me.
At dinner yesterday, you told me not to eat another
jamun. That if I take care of my health, I would live
a long life. Ma, it seems so ridiculous now, that we
celebrated my birthday last week. The cake, the
presents, my favourite caramel pudding. Like a
prank we didn’t know we were falling for.
In these 5 minutes I realised, that the world has no
appreciation for beauty. For friendship. For
laughter.
It didn’t matter to them that Zara was to perform
for us after class this afternoon. That Ahmed and I
planned on buying ice-cream after school. That
Samah was going to get the prize for being the
Science topper. Everyone died anyway.
You know ma, we invest in our lives with such a
relentless passion, not once realising how fragile it
is. You drive me to music class twice a week.
Mark sums on my textbook for me to answer. You
tell me to remember to be polite, learn my lessons
and eat healthy.
But ma, no one was spared. Not even the ones
who finished their breakfast. The ones who handed
in their homework. Or the ones who prayed this
morning.
Ma, I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.
And I think I will breathe my last, lying on this
battlefield of scattered bodies, shoes and
stationery.
My English textbook lies beside me on the floor.
Still open on the same page it was at when they
stormed in. I close my eyes one last time, because
I cannot bear to look at it any longer.

Seems almost absurd now, that a world like this,
 could inspire poetry.”

a lazy way to pretend to get your life together

They say that these are the years where you figure out who you are and everything changes and you become who you were always supposed to be and you grown into yourself and "just wait you'll see" and "someday you'll understand" And I'm in college and I'm 18 so I guess that day they were talking about is today. And boy were they right. About some of the stuff. I still don't understand cat people or abusive relationships or what being vegan actually means but I have learned a lot since graduation day.
I've learned how to cook carrot cake and hash browns and it turns out you can make top ramen in the microwave and it also turns out there is more than two flavors of top ramen (team oriental). I've learned to pay attention to expiration dates and that there is no difference between brand name and knockoff cereal but there is a HUGE difference between knockoff pop-tarts and name brand (always go name brand) I've learned that not everyone likes to sleep at the same temperature and that I am not good at keeping in touch with people. I've learned that there isn't actually a lot that people know about me. A lot know all these facts and stories but they don't know the little stuff. And by little stuff I mean a lot off little stuff that accumulates into one big stuff. You learn more when you live with a person than you do when you are best friends with them for 5 years. I don't consider my roommates better friends than my high school friends but they definitely know me better than them. And its no ones fault. Some things just never came up between third and fourth period and during football games. I've learned more about a girl I've know since 8th grade here in these few months of college than I have in the entire time prior. And she is just as great as I always thought she would be. I've learned that long car rides can make or break all relationships. I've learned that high school poetry slams were better than the college ones but for different reasons. I've learned not to rush things. I've learned that there are boys you hang out with and boys you date and often they can't be both. I've learned that 18 year old boys are just about as dumb as everyone gives them credit for. I've learned that it's ok to not go on a lot of dates even if it makes you sad sometimes. I've learned its ok to be in college and not have been kissed. And if you want your first kiss its ok to go out and get it. But if you want it to be special or meaningful you might have to wait and that's ok and if you don't care that's ok too. I've learned that the only rules here are the ones you make for yourself. And you can change them if you want to. I've learned that changing your mind doesn't make you a hypocrite. I've learned that everyone hates their roommate's boyfriend. I've learned how to deal with people who listen to country music (HERE THAT SAM. IT IS POSSIBLE) I've learned that I'm the only one in my apartment who watches the news and Keeping up with the Kardashians. And the only one who hates peanut butter. And the only one who doesn't make their bed everyday. I've been known as the candle roommate and I don't hate it.

I've learned that being 18 doesn't really mean anything except that now you don't have to sneak into the frat parties. Your an adult but your still a youth. Teen is still attached to that number. Which is very comforting. I'm 18 and I don't have my life together. And no one really expects me to. I'm only 18. There are people who are 23 who are still going on blind dates and meeting up with people on tinder and they don't have their life together and its ok if I don't either. I've learned that I'm only 18 and I've got my whole life ahead of me. I mean I really know it. At the rate I'm going I could finish college in three years, I could finish college at 21. That's hardly a forth of my life and that's the only real part that society kind of helps you plan out. I don't really plan things. I didn't even know what college I was going to until March. And I didn't really care. I didn't have any expectations for my future because honestly I wasn't sure if I was going to make it this far. I don't know what I want out of my life. Long term isn't my thing. But to help prolong my inevitable life crisis for as long as possible I have decided to make a, not so much a plan, setting a list of reasonable goals to accomplish sometime in my life. How ever long or short it may be. A cliched sort of bucket list if you will. Except everything on this bucket list is level headed and reasonable.
Because I am an adult now.

1. Receive a Noble Prize
2. Have a dog
3. Work at the Forever 21 in Times Square
4. Live/work in the Red Wood National Forest for a period of time
5. Earn a college degree
6. Have a seal
7. Be in love
8. Write an episode of a TV show
9. Live in my car
10. Go to the Ellen DeGeneres show
11. Own a water bed
12. Own furniture that isn't from Ikea (I already own furniture from Ikea)
13. Try quinoa
14. Live in Oregon for a period of time
15. Own a whisk
16. Raise multiple children
17. Keep a plant alive for more than 2 months
18. Work somewhere where I earn a salary
19. Live to see my mom get everything she deserves
20. Learn to like green smoothies. And beans. And peas. And more vegetables
21. Take care of my grandparents farm
22. Have my car break down and need to push it somewhere
23. Hike to the top of something.
24. Meet Jimmy Fallon
25. Own my own pair of roller skates
26. Learn to play the bongos
27. Beat my brother at a video game that isn't dance related
28. Name a candle
29. Vote
30. Own my own living space (mansion/apartment/shack/house)
31. See my siblings fall in love
32. Ride an elephant
33. Feel connected to the planet? (idk what this means I just like the outdoors and need to be there more)
34. Learn two languages (FOR REAL)
35. Give birth
36. Hug an orangutan
37. Make a positive difference in someones life
38. Rap
39. Almost die
40. Die
41. Feel whole

and life is a nightmare

I called him a kid and I didn't mean it. I just wanted him to remember this is only the beginning. Not only the beginning of a lot of problems and a lot of heart ache, but the beginning of life. Not because his feelings were invalid but because soon the whole thing would be put into perspective. And then he would be even less of a kid. There is a part in Perks of Being a Wallflower (cliche I know) where Charlie sees a bunch of kids sledding on a hill and he starts to think about how someday these kids are going to have to get jobs and kiss somebody and grow up but not until later. And how right now sledding is enough for them and that's all they have to care about and how he wishes that's all anybody had to care about. And I think that's what it comes down to really. That's how you know you aren't a kid anymore. The more things you care about the more years you add onto your heart. That's why the Presidents all look so old. I think that's why growing up is so confusing for everyone, I know people in high school who are more grown up than people in college and maybe that's the sad part of it all. The heartache that people feel in their youth should be celebrated. It means your becoming. It means your finding things and allowing them inside of you and allowing them to move you. I'll let you in on a secret, people don't say that these were the best years of their lives because that's when they had the most fun, no, you'll have fun your whole life. It doesn't even out and suddenly become a smooth ride, you'll always have something to worry about. The reason people say these were the best years of their lives is because they became who they are. There are few things more painful than becoming, but few things more rewarding than knowing who we are. People say you can go throughout your whole life without ever living it, but no one ever tells you that you can age without actually growing up.

"We never know the wine we are becoming while we are being crushed like grapes."

-Henri Nouwen

"I got tired, I told him. Not worn out, but worn through. Like one of those wives w ho wakes up one morning and says I can't bake any more bread.

You never bake bread, he wrote, and we were still joking.

Then it's like I woke up and baked bread, I said, and we were joking even then. I wondered will there come a time when we won't be joking? And what would it look like? And how would that feel?

When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calender that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from the chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table.

I spent my life learning to feel less.

Every day I felt less.

Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?

You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.” 

― Jonathan Safran Foer

coming from a person who loves love

Every time I try to write about love I just keep writing myself out of love and its crappy and I am sick of it. I used to have ideals!! Then things happen and you see other people get hurt and your neighbors fall out of love and your parents start sleeping in separate rooms and you move out to college and I guess we all have grow up and wake up sometime. The thing that no one tells you about marriage is that the percent who stay together get by just barely. They don't tell you that some of the people who are married don't even actually love each other. Sure they tell you its going to be hard, but no one talks about sleeping on the couch or hour long drives so you don't have to let it out in front of the kids. Everyone talks about being real with each other but how can you be? They're gonna know about all the times you skipped the gym and all the times you cried when your dad called and all the times you almost swore and all the times you did swear and all the times you talked about how you hate people who swear. And who's gonna want to live with that? Too inconsistent too contradicting too much of a mess to even keep a cactus alive. too tired. And that's why love is great. Because when it works its total acceptance and that's all that anyone wants really, to be told that we aren't crazy and that our feelings are valid and that it's okay.. It isn't looking past someones flaws, its embracing their flaws and recognizing that their flaws are apart of them and make them who they are. I guess once you get past the "mush honeymoon magic mega awesome" love phase and you get into the "for real" (these are the technical terms) love phase it comes down to finding the person who you are gonna be annoyed with/want to kill the least. Which if you hate them the least it also means you love them the most so I guess that does make sense. Love, how magical.


 the best love poem I've ever read.

#college

Lets talk about how I was excited to live with a bunch of strangers so I could see them be real and raw and make me feel less crazy and like we're all just trying to figure it out well GUESS WHAT they are all perfect and eat salad all the time and I am behind on everything. My hair my clothes my physique my social skills my spirituality my relationship status my cleaning habits and my whole being a better person thing are all mediocre in comparison to them. But besides the huge burden of my roommates being perfect all the time they are amazing and I got lucky to randomly have them. I am trapped in a room on the top floor of a building with five strangers and I love it. Finding the upside of everything is what keeps me going. I haven't gone to class on a Friday yet and I've been going to school for three weeks. So yay for education. I'm undeclared and basically everyone else is too. Or they are going to be a teacher or a doctor. It seems like everyone's got everything figured out, or they have figured out that they haven't got anything figured out and I am just waking up from a nap wondering what day it is.
You know when you are a sophomore and you look at the seniors and you can't ever imagine that you will make it to that point and you wonder what you will be like when you are a senior and then you become a senior and you realize you are the exact same and you don't feel like a senior and you feel like you don't look like all the other seniors when they were seniors? Yeah well college is basically the same thing.
I brought up three plants with me to college and two have already died.
Nothing has changed since high school. I'm still to much and I still drown everyone in everything.

I've been doing a lot of online shopping okay??????

I've been trying to get back in touch with my roots but I think I've dyed them too much 

This is about sharing a couch with someone at an old friends house and how it felt like home. This is about home.

This is about having eggs for breakfast every morning and trying not to step on eggshells. Its about new hair cuts and how I only published two blog posts since school ended. It's not about trips to Vegas and its not about getting that summer beach bod and its certainly not about high school. Its about working and wearing pants and summer homework and people getting offended when you offer to take out their groceries. Its about finding out people have girlfriends and being to lazy to make this post into an actual thing. It's about last days of work that make you cry and last days of school that didn't and last days of summer that will. The break is over and the package is sealed. All wrapped up with plastic and packing peanuts and in a dingy old shoe box that should say FRAGILE. HANDLE WITH CARE. but it just says THIS SIDE UP and none of us even know where we're going. And we don't know what we'll be like when we get there. All we can do is hope the mail man doesn't drop us and that wherever we go the person who opens us up is gentle enough to put us back together.

pressure/ice ice baby/they both sound the same

Lately I've been feeling like writing on this blog is a huge chore because I feel like I have to dazzle everyone and give them chills and all that jazz so I haven't been posting anything because I don't feel like it's gripping/heartbreaking/amazing enough BECAUSE I GUESS I WRITE FOR THE COMMENTS OKAY?!? Ugh. Everything about this whole blog and #hashtagsummerblogs has just become something hanging over my head which is sad because writing and connecting with people and getting all my emotions out there is something I have always loved and it doesn't seem to feel like that anymore. I'm tired of thinking of new concepts and killer metaphors and I'm tired of having more drafts than published posts. So sometimes I feel like its best to write like this in a stream of consciousness sort of way because it's present and direct and you al get what I'm trying to say and I don't have to be abstract or anything. But then I look at all my other published posts and THEY ARE ALL STREAM OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. I dunno maybe I just do better with #realtalk than #fancytalk and maybe I'm a one trick pony (is that the right saying?? I'm sorry, it's midnight) and maybe I won't be able to inspire anyone and maybe my writing is less of a rip your heart out of your chest type and more of a pat on the back "it's going to be alright" type and maybe that's okay.

Being called names is probably the worst :/

About 5 minutes ago I heard screaming and swearing and pounding on the door and I've never been more real than right now when I say I miss being in elementary school.
My parents are out of town and I'm in charge and I got home from work at 10 and found my two little sisters home alone and my brother no where in sight. I called and I txted and I screamed but he refused to tell me where he was or what he was doing anything so I told him if he wasn't home by 1:00 I was locking the doors and he was outside for the night and I've never been more for real than when I said that.
1:00 rolls around and he doesn't.
1:05 nothing
1:10 nope
1:25 finally
It's  1:30 and five minutes ago my brother pounded on the door and screamed for me to let him in and called me a bitch.
I guess I wasn't being for real when I said I'd make him sleep outside. But I was being for real about the elementary school part.

rap music is everything

the lyrics are killer. that's all.

I wanna know what love is

I know the lyrics to every song on the radio and I haven't heard half of them. Life is getting to be too predictable. I answer you aren't there. I don't answer you're angry. The next day everything is fine. Is this what love is? Ignoring everything? But accepting that the other person is ignoring everything too? I used to think I knew what love was. Something soft that you could wrap yourself around. I never thought the inside would be full of thorns and smell terrible. I bought new perfume just so I could bare it. Is this what love is? Smashing all the expensive vases and sticking around to glue them back together?

Thoughts on not counting as an adult

I go to a different church building now and the chairs are hard and my mom changed the laundry detergent she uses and nothing seems to be soft anymore.. Welcome to the real world I guess. Also I went to Walmart and my brother wanted me to buy him a COD game and the cashier asked for my ID because I had to be 17 but I didn't have it with me and the lady got her supervisor and she said WORD FOR WORD "well you don't have any ID and you don't even look 17 anyways so I really can't give this game to you. I hate Walmart.. But you can get a packet of hot chocolate there for 50 cents so I don't hate it that much. Also I was at Home Depot looking at countertops the other day when this like 45 year old woman started asking me which countertop sample I liked better and showing me pictures of her house and her family and all her 27 year old sons and then asking me again about what I thought would look best with her forest green wallpaper and genaric wood cabinets and I started to talk about my interior design class and she asked where I was going to school and so I told her I just graduated and would be going to utah state in the fall and she said oh that's nice AND UP AND LEFT all because she realized I was in high school and some idiot like listen up lady  just because in 16 doesn't mean I don't know what I m talking about  your countertops are tacky and I am trying to help you. I'm sick of age and never being the right thing for anybody. Like yeah I am old enough to have to go to work everyday but not old enough to buy a freakin video game or alcohol but I'm old enough that I should know what I am doing with my life but not old enough for anyone to take anything I say seriouslyi have never really felt like respect was something I cared a lot about because I didn't really care what people thought of me but now I find myself wishing people would take me seriously sometimes which is weird maybe I'm turning into an adult how disgusting.. we'll see how this goes


College is going to be cool hopefully/probably/obviously

Summer Reading

This is ironic because I got a letter today from the highland library saying that I owe them $109 in late charges and I guess it's valid because I haven't turned in any books since spring break I JUST LIKE BOOKS OKAY?!?!?!?? So who knows how possible this list of books I want to read actually is, but we will see I guess. Also if you have any recommendations please tell me because I'll basically read anything

• The Spectacualr Now - Tim Tharp
• The Secret Life of Bees - Sue Monk Kidd
• Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
• The Breif and Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao - Junot Díaz
• The Space Between Us - Thrity Umrigar 
• Rules Of Surviving - Nancy Werlin
• Lets Explore Diabetes With Owls - David Sedaris
• The Book Theif - Markus Zusak
• These Broken Stars - Amie Kaufman 
• The House on Mango Street - Sandra Cisneros 
• all the books I stole from Nelson's classroom 
• This is How You Lose Her - Junot Díaz
• The Killer's Cousin - Nancy Werlin 
• Me Talk Pretty One Day - David Sedaris 
• It's Kind of a Funny Story - Ned Vizzini 
• In Cold Blood - Truman Capote 
• The Last Time I Saw My Mother - Arlene Chai
• Bossypants - Tina Fey
• The Diving Bell and the Butterfly - Jean Dominique Dauby
• Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Matinence - Robert M. Pirsig
• Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? - Mindy Kaling
• Lets Pretend This Never Happened - Jenny Lawson
• WHAT ELSE SHOULD I READ GUYS

SORRY

MY LAPTOP SCREEN SHATTERED BECAUSE IT FELL OFF MY BED BECAUSE I FELL ASLEEP WHILE WATCHING A MOVIE AND SO I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING NEW BECAUSE IT DOESN'T FEEL THE SAME AND I HAVE 37 DRAFTS I COULD POST BUT I HATE ALL OF THEM AND I AM SORRY AND I STILL DON'T KNOW IF IM WRITING FOR MYSELF OR FOR COMMENTS AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IM WRITING FOR THAT MATTER AND ITS 12:40 AND IT DOESN'T EVEN FEEL LIKE SUMMER BECAUSE I HAVE TO WEAR PANTS TO WORK AND I ALWAYS TYPE IN CAPS LOCK AND THIS ISN'T EVEN ABOUT ANYTHING IT'S JUST ME LETTING YOU KNOW THAT IM TRASH AND IM SORRY

monkey bars and roller skates and #senioryear

I don't remember much from before 2nd grade except for watching Hey Arnold and wanting to become a nurse and my mom taking me to gymnastics class on Tuesdays and Thursdays every week. I would always come home with calluses and blisters because my teacher told me that I held on to the bar too tight.

In the 4th grade a boy sang a song for me during show and tell because he loved me and I ran into the bathroom crying because his last name was Barney and what kind of a name is Hannah Barney and I couldn't figure out how to tell him things weren't going to work out.  None of you are probably going to believe that story because none of you were there and sometimes that makes me really sad because I didn't actually "grow up" with any of you but then I remember about my weird obsession with flare jeans and I am grateful none of you were around to witness it.

Fast forward about 20 crushes later and no one has serenaded me since and its crazy the things I have taken for granted. Things like knowing how roller skate or having an class dedicated to watching movies or my preference date not going to jail the day before preference. People have been saying our high school is like the ones you see in the movies and I guess that is kind of true because I haven't heard of another one where we can have BBQ's outside and sleepovers inside. But we also never had a food fight so I'm not really sure if the whole movie analogy is correct because I feel like that is sort of a necessary scene in every high school movie.

Graduation wasn't a sad thing for me because I was sort of sick of the lack of sleep and everyone getting sentimental and deciding to tell us how cool we were when there were only two days left and they didn't have to worry about actually talking to us ever again. Mostly I was sick of dealing with all the kids who wrote about how they are "so alone" but never return my waves in the halls. Sorry I wasn't good enough I guess? I'll admit I was kind of sad because now I wont have an excuse to see a lot of people who I have come to fall in love with but this town is small enough that I'm not worried about never seeing people again. In a lot of the yearbook's I signed I ended with "I'll see you tomorrow" so I guess that sums up my feelings about graduation because I'll see most of you at the gas station or Lauren Coulter's house or at Snoasis so it isn't really a big deal to me.

I guess what I'll miss the most is the atmosphere where everyone is sleep deprived and a little miserable due to high amounts of stress so everything is hilarious and we all understood each others jokes because we all knew what was going on. I don't know if that makes any sense WE WERE JUST ALL REALLY FUNNY OKAY?? I thought I could go one blog post without using caps lock but I have failed. Great. I am also going to miss the fact that we all dance super dumb. Like I sat against the wall at the black-light dance for a little while and it is hilarious/embarrassing but I guess since we are in a big group it doesn't really matter because no one is going to make fun of you because everyone else is doing it too. So I'll probably have to learn how to dance for real before college so that my adult peers don't make fun of me. Or maybe I wont and I'll just dance dumb for the rest of my life and high school will live inside of me forever!!!!!!! Also we had some good teachers I will miss but that always happens and by the power of the internet none of you are really that far away from me. I'm not really sure if my feelings on graduation are optimistic or just a total lack of caring but gradutaion happened two days ago and I woke up this morning with hands covered in blisters because I still hold on to too much

things you shouldn't say on the first date

Hi my name is Hannah nice to meet you my favorite color is green and sometimes I am afraid of people. If I was given three wishes I would wish for a less lopsided face and for everyone to love themselves and I would do it in that order because I'm an idiot but I don't want everyone else to feel like one and I probably wouldn't even use the third wish because that's too much pressure for me. If I could spend the day with three people dead or alive I would choose Bill Cosby, Nelson Mandela and I want to say Beyonce but I also don't because I feel like I would freak out too much and it would just be a waste of a person BUT I REALLY JUST WANT HER TO TEACH ME HOW TO DANCE OKAY?!?! In the morning I like my eggs scrambled. In my spare time I liked to take naps and read books and go on hikes and pet dogs and make smoothies and salsa but not together and watch tv and try to learn how to rap and find out the best way to make a quesadilla and sometimes I play soccer and I can also play video game soccer and sometimes I watch movies by myself and cry and sometimes I watch movies with other people and cry and sometimes/a lot of times I spend too much time on the internet and I don't really understand the sudden hype over Birkenstocks and Chacos and sometimes I think I wont make it into heaven and sometimes I cry about it because I would miss out on so much. My favorite food is Italian/carbs. My pet peeves are people who correct other peoples grammar and people who are closed minded and everyone who has ever cut me off ever and all sophomores because they don't seem to care about anything and its annoying also people who are full of themselves. In 10 years I see myself at about the same place, hopefully I'm a little happier and smarter and more independent and with more people in my life i.e. a babe of a husband. Or a dog. Maybe I'll still live in Utah or maybe I won't, Portland seems cool, but so does Scotland so who knows. I am more of a night owl than a morning person and I can't remember the last time I watched a sunrise. I am the oldest of for siblings and I have a dad who is a dentist and a mom who is a mom. My biggest role model in life is probably Jesus Christ because he knows how to treat people. My specialty dishes are pastas and and brownies and if you can make a better tasting salsa than me I'll probably marry you on the spot. I'm financially saving up to travel the world, but I feel like everyone does that too and then they end up staying home and paying taxes so we'll see how well that turns out. I always say Remember the Titans is my favorite movie because boys freak out and think its cool but I actually really like it a lot and I also like Warrior and I cry every time the brothers fight each other. I actually cry during almost every movie because I get too emotionally invested in everything. I saw the Amazing Spider-Man 2 a couple weeks ago and that was rough.. I have never kept a New Years resolution and my ideal date is anywhere I can feel close to someone. The last time I cried was yesterday when I saw a couple pulled to the side of the road beating each other up in their car and then the man threw the woman out of the car onto the road and I called 911 and cried the whole way home. I believe in foreshadowing. If I won a million dollars I would spend it on a waterbed, stocks, a dog, and probably the best charity or something. The first CD I ever bought was the Shrek soundtrack and the real truth is I am always afraid of people.
What about you?

Sorry I think I'm high right now

Sorry I think I am high right now


Maybe it's because I just figured out who Icarus was and I am just feeling so much right now it's crazy. Does anyone else think it's kind of hot in here?? there are things that people don't seem to understand and it's so cliche to say it but there is no better way to describe it BUT WE ARE ALL ALIVE RIGHT NOW. DO YOU GET THAT?? Oh if I could just shake it into you people. It's a beautiful thing really, I could talk about that analogy of how we are all protagonists and how we are extras in other people lives but you all have heard of that before BUT NO ONE SEEMS TO GET IT but it's amazing. Whenever I take a break from being so self absorbed I re realize this and it's incredible to me every time. Like I always think I have everything figured out about a person and then they start crying in church and it's always a shock to me like what?? You care about stuff?? It's not just me?? But this post isn't even about prejudice or stereotypes or anything it's about being alive and how we all have our own crazy complicated lives and were all in each others lives and there are 7 Billion people on the earth that are alive and that's crazy to me. THATS 7 BILLION DIFFERENT STORIES DO YOU UNDERSTAND. 7 BILLION PEOPLE WHO LOVE SOMEBODY WHO CARE ABOUT SOMEBODY WHO ARE GREAT PEOPLE AND WE DONT EVEN KNOW THEM BUT THEY DO STUFF. PEOPLE HAVE LIVES AFTER THE BELL RINGS AT 2:15 ITS NOT JUST ME. I remember when I found out that teachers don't actually live in the school. That was crazy. You never know whats inside of people and I think that's the craziest thing of all. Like the fact that people care about golf is crazy to me, but people probably think my love for dogs is crazy so were even I guess. There are just so many things to care about and so many people who care about them THERE IS JUST SO MUCH WE ALL DONT KNOW ABOUT EACH OTHER AND WE SEE EACH OTHER EVERYDAY LIKE HOW IS THSI POSSIBLE.
I think that's what I liked most about the creative writing class, I was worried because creative writing has become the cool/hipster class to take and I didn't wan it to be lame, I don't really know what I am trying to say, I JUST DIDNT WANT THE CLASS TO BE FULL OF POSERS OKAY!?!? I wanted the class to own up to the hype because a lot of the cool/hipster things aren't actually as cool as you would think. ANYWAYS, creative writing, I felt like we were all telling each other our secrets except they all ended up being the same secret, hey we like to/can write!!! Because for some reason it isn't something you bring up in a conversation like "oh I am good at football"  "oh I work at Arby's" or "oh I am co-president of the yoga club" nobody is ever like "oh I am good at writing and I have a secret blog and yadda yadda" or at least I don't anyways. I don't know if I'm making any sense right now there are just so many people who I never thought would have an interest in writing on top of being good at it. The world is crazy. You never know. Like you don't understand but you could be sitting next to the future president of the United States. LIKE ANYONE COULD BE ANYTHING AND YOU DONT EVEN KNOW I COULD BE THE NEXT OPRAH OR ASTRONAUT OR GAS STATION CASHIER OR HOVER-BOARD INVENTOR YOU NEVER KNOW. I DONT EVEN KNOW.



I am sorry it's like 12:30 and I am feeling overwhelmed by everything and I am sorry the only way I can express anything is by using caps lock and apparently the only adjective I know is "crazy" and I'm sorry if you read this whole thing and it made zero sense because it's late and I don't know how to use words but I needed to talk about this ok bye

lost boys

Missing Peron:
Boy, age 17 with long legs, long arms and long hugs.
A pair of feet that were always one step ahead of mine
A pair of feet that would always let me catch up.
A pair of feet that always seemed to know how to move on the dance floor
A pair of feet that didn't look totally terrible in flip-flops
A pair of lips always kissing the ground I walked on
A pair of lips always saying "I'm sorry"
A pair of lips always saying "It's okay"
A heart that was just as scared as mine and maybe that's why it never worked out
A pair of hands I never thought would wave goodbye
Witnesses saw him last on the day he was supposed to become the man of the house. He's been gone for awhile...
Check Main Street, check the gym, check the mountains, check the places where you can hear God, check under his bed. Because he is a little confused about where he's at right now
Keep an eye out and if you see him don't bother telling him to come back,
just remind him it's been awhile.

Guess who's back

How to start writing again:


Write for yourself
Go to a poetry slam
Take a shower
Don't think too much
Pick up the pencil
Don't try to make things sound fancy and beautiful
Write for yourself
Put your socks on
Be real/say what you feel
Realize we can't all be Sarah Loveday
Stop feeling like you have to write something to save people
Write for yourself
Make time to write
Try not to be afraid of what others might think
Stop trying to impress Nelson
Try not to be afraid of what's inside of you
Stop comparing your writing to other people
Write for yourself
Listen to Coldplay
Crack your knuckles
Avoid labels
Take your socks off
Write for yourself
Press Publish
Breathe.

This isn't about my D- in Biology

Senior year isn't always what you expect
I applied to three colleges and got accepted to three colleges. I'm not bragging or anything, I just want any juniors or other people to know that its okay to get a B and it's not worth crying over.
You've always got options.
I've gone to movies by myself and I've bought candles and I wondered how it's possible I have gone so long without either of these things in my life. Also sleeping in the middle of the bed. I don't know who I've been saving the other half of my bed for, but it has dawned on me that they aren't coming any time soon and I have been wasting the most comfortable part of the bed on some delusion that my whole bed doesn't belong to me.Beauty isn't all thighs and lips and collarbones, though a lot of times it seems like it is. I don't know how to explain it other than it can't be. I've realized how sucky of a friend I've been to those who didn't deserve it and how amazing of a friend to those who also didn't deserve it. Sometimes you realize these things too late.Like the fact that they like to draw with charcoal or  the fact that the boy who wanted you to go to his music concert thing probably liked you AND YOU FELL ASLEEP AND DIDN'T GO. And it might be possible that you are actually still single because you sleep too much. Also I am probably going to flunk one of my AP tests on purpose just so my teacher knows that they're a sucky teacher. I've pulled more homework all nighters than I ever did junior year and cried in class more often too. I've ditched more and gone to less attendance school which really doesn't make sense to me but I've never really been one of those to question the system. I feel like you are supposed to cry a lot during your senior year because doors are closing and people have planes to catch and suitcases to pack and everyone is like "what about prom?" and then they are all like "what about money/college/jobs/making my parents proud/majors/Russia/and what happens after we die?" and then the king and queen are crowned and the caps come off and our lives begin. I generally feel indifferent about the whole thing. My brain has already checked out and is planning which shoes to take to college and what Top Ramen flavor tastes the best (chicken) and my heart isn't far behind which kind of terrifies me. I don't know why I feel so disconnected but I want it to stop.
My cousin came back from her mission and I am afraid to wear shorts in front of her and it freaks me out a little bit because is this what life is like after high school? You are just surrounded by RMs that you can't wear shorts in front of??
the main reason I didn't want to go to BYU is because a lot of you are going there and it's ironic because the main reason I want to go to BYU is because a lot of you are going there.
But hey,
maybe there will be nice boys at Utah State who have candy bars named after them and try to show me their music and tutor me in calculus when I'm not actually in any math class at all and maybe this time I wont be so scared. 
Maybe.
Senior year is supposed to be sentimental and slow motion and fast forward and high volume all at once but all I'm getting is static.

ughughughughughugh

Other Titles Include: Sorry x Infinity, BRB, Still figuring it out, DOES ANYONE FIGURE IT OUT?? 

Am I the only one who feels so much? kcoolbye, and lastly

I Hate You BUT I Hate Myself More Sooooooooooooooooooooo

middle finger middle finger middle finger middle finger middle finger middle finger

because I am an idiot but so is everyone else.

I'm messy blogging and being vague right now and I am sorry because I have some self control to stop myself  from blogging about certain people and naming names but not enough control to not talk about it on the internet so that's great. I am just so angry all the time and I don't know what to do about it

I kick holes in the wall and tell everyone to shut up and I spit in my brother drink the other day and I don't want to be this person anymore.

I don't want to be this person anymore.

Some people say that is enough "recognizing you have a problem is the first step to fixing it" well what is the second and third and fourth and last because apparently I'm the only one who can't seem to figure my life out. I don't want to be so angry and offended and annoyed and take everything so personally and 

feeling everything all the time has gotten to be so painful and living can be so painful

I need to be numb for a little while

So if I shut you out it's nothing personal and I am sorry 

it's nothing personal 

I am just insane

but I don't want to be anymore.

dedicated to cute boys you see in the hall one time and then never again

There are 7 billion people on this planet,
and statistically you will only meet about 10 thousand of them in your life time

they say you should start a poem with some sort of fact or truth.

they don't actually say that

I don't even know who they are

But I know who we are.

We are Wednesday afternoons.
Unsure of everything
Do I have any assignments due tomorrow?
I don't know. (probably)
Should I take a really long nap today?
I don't know (yes)
Are you guys a thing?
I don't know. (I don't know)

We are every writers nightmare
because words don't define us
and neither do commas or periods
or apostrophes or parentheses.
I don't know what defines us
I don't know.

I don't know the way you like your eggs in the morning
and I don't know what radio stations you listen to
and I don't know what you'd grab if your house was on fire
And I don't know how I feel about you.
All I know is every time I see you I hold my breath
I don't know what that's supposed to mean but it's just what I do
And whenever the teacher makes a joke I look over to see if you are laughing too and you usually are and
I like that
But sometimes your not because it's 11:45 and class is in session and you're asleep
and I like that too.

There are three things about the universe that you should know.
There are things we all know,
like how to tie our shoes and how to breathe (most of the time)
There are things we don't know
like how many licks it would take to get to the center of a tootsie pop
and there are those things we don't know that we don't know.
like a couple months ago you didn't even exist in my universe
and I didn't know that there there was something so wonderful that I was missing out on.
I didn't know.
I didn't know
I didn't know

But now I do,
and I'm not sure if it's any better

On never being loved "like that"

( my last post was apparently stolen from Grey's Anatomy and I feel like I need to redeem myself. )

I sometimes allow myself to think about the things that typical high school girls think about like getting asked to prom and wearing a boy's hoodie and grand gestures and all that other corny stuff and to be honest I don't care what the definition of love is anymore I just know I want it. I want someone to watch movies with I want someone to understand me
I at least want somebody to try to.
It's not like I'm some girl who needs a boy to survive or anything, I have actually learned to become quite independent of boys, friends, teachers, coaches, and people in general. I can eat lunch in the library or I can eat lunch in the commons with a group of people and I generally feel the same thing at this point and it's fine.
It's not that I need a boy in my life, It's just that I want one.
I don't care if it's corny or full of angst or if it's predictable or nothing like I expect or even if it ends up being embarrassingly dramatic (I'm talkin Romeo and Juliet dramatic).
I don't know what it's like at all. We could conduct an experiment, it would be far less romantic, but kisses and tears could be our data and we'll test to see if this whole "love" thing actually makes us better people, happier, makes us feel more ourselves, more whole.
Hypothesis: It does

"I will tell you what she was like. She was like a piano in a country where everyone has had their hands cut off." -Angela Carter

where I'm at

Have you ever just wanted to be someones person??
Does that even make sense (it will)
also where is the apostrophe supposed to go in someones??
I don't care (what else is new)
I'm not sure if that is a good introduction
or if that even qualifies as an introduction
I don't even know what I'm writing anymore so I just ramble and press
enter
whenever I feel like the moment is right
Ok that was annoying we are going back to this, my ramble-y posts because that's all I am good for anymore okay yes this is much better, also this has nothing to do with what I want to say to you people but (also who even reads this anymore?? anyone?? hello out there) I am just wondering now that this class is over, I've reread all my blog posts for sentimental reasons (also I am lame, remember?) and I don't know what any of this is, like when people ask "oh what do you write?" (no one asks me that) what am I supposed to say? Is this prose? Is this poetry?? Or are these just journal entries? Can I write a book that is just full of journal entries? Can I consider all the thoughts in my brain poetry?? WHO MAKES THE RULES HERE?!??! (Me, God, Ronda? Obama? Nelson, the kids who sit by the knight at lunch??)

Okay, back to being someone's (I googled it) person. Right now/always I feel like I am friends with someone and things are good and  okay let me start over, Have you ever felt like you like your friends more than they like you? (same) Or you think you and your friend are really good friends and maybe even *~best~friends~* and then you find out that they have other friends who might possibly have a closer bond with your said best friend than you do and your brain is just like "oh okay that's cool I don't mind I'm fine" and then you work 4 Fridays in a row and you don't even notice because you didn't have plans anyways??! I don't know what I am saying. I have had best friends, but they were temporary best friends kind of, I still had to tip toe around them and control myself and I couldn't be real with them. But this is also a two way street because I do have friends who are real with me and sometimes real people can be real annoying. (I'm horrible, I know, we all know, lets get past this please) Basically I just want a best friend that works, and I know that is at least half (probably more) my fault that these things just don't work out but I want to change. (now the part about being someone's person) I just want to have a mutual feeling "yeah I like this person, they are fun I want to be around them more often" (I don't know if there is an actual word for that?) I want to have someone to call up and we can sit in the car and talk or we can go running through the streets, we can sometimes go crazy but we can also just sit around and be lazy and we can laugh in front of each other and cry also without feeling embarrassed (is that possible) I want someone to motivate me to be a better person but not be all judgmental when I am to lazy to change, and I want to be that for someone too. I want someone to be bored and call me to do something or just check in to see how I am doing or give me free stuff just because they like me. I want a person, and I want to be someone's person
This is why best friends are hard.
But maybe until this miracle of a friendship happens I'll just sit here and write about all the boys and mental crisis's I am dealing with, does that make you my best friend oh near and dear blog?
..
I think I have reached the bottom, I am now the lamest person alive, Justin Bieber exists, and I am more lame than he is.

Well, if we are going to start this relationship off right I better (re)introduce myself
hi
(hello? hey? sup?? wassup??)
(sorry I haven't done this in a while)
I'm Hannah.

the thing I tried to do at the slam

Hate - An Anis Mojgani knock off

This is for the sexists
I hate you.
This is for the homophobes,
I hate you too.
This is for the players and the cheaters
the rapists and the beaters
This is for all the over achievers
and political leaders
I hate you
This is for arrogant people and whoever
decided it was cool to make fun of white girls
I hate you
This is for cancer

I hate you most

This is for you
I hate you
and you hate you
and I hate you because you hate you
and I hate high school
I hate watching you cave in and doubt yourself
and I hate everything that made you feel this way
I hate every girl and boy and magazine that
ever made you feel less than whole.
This is for a boy who was born blind
and taught himself to play any song on the piano
after hearing it just once

This is because there is a blind kid out there who knows how to play the piano
and you don't even know how to love yourself.

TMI

At the beginning of this year I wrote in my journal that I took this class to help me not feel so alone. To be honest I took this class because I wanted to know what people thought of my writing and if I was any good at it (yes I need validation from a bunch of strangers, yes it's lame) and now the semester is almost over and it's time I owned up to some things

#confessiontweet I went almost an entire year without getting a haircut because I was afraid my haircut lady was going to think I was a freak/hate me/force me to have actual conversations with her
#confessiontweet I cry in sports movies
#confessiontweet I cry in all movies
#confessiontweet I would have chosen Raoul
#confessiontweet I would have done it with the phantom on the side though..
#confessiontweet the boy in that picture may or may not be naked i'm not sure
#confessiontweet that boy in the picture is actually me trying to write this post because I have been real with you this whole time, I'm just running out of things to be real about, my brain is a freaking grape and now its a shriveled raisin that is hard and has had all the good parts sucked out of it
#confessiontweet I am not very good at metaphors
#confessiontweet I'm not done here
#confessiontweet I think there is a disorder where you eventually start to hate everyone? and I think I have it?? Which sucks because people are cool and great then you start to develop expectations for them and then they end up being not at cool and as great as you thought they were.
#confessiontweet March will always be the worst month
#confessiontweet you are a lame for making everyone wait until tomorrow to figure out who you are
#confessiontweet I am not Beyoncé
#confessiontweet I may or may not have slightly hit a car in a parking lot yesterday and kept driving
#confessiontweet sometimes I am too honest..

This is probably too much but I am going to get real real with you right now. I woke up in the middle of the night last week and thought of something that would be good to write a blog post about so I wrote it down then when I woke up I looked in my journal and I had written " If you want to live in peace choose Raoul, If you want to die in peace choose the Phantom" Call it divine inspiration, call it sleep deprivation, call it whatever you want but the choice is yours. The way I see it you can either die with regret or live with it

and this is probably too much information too but
its been real

hannah madsen