Monthly Archives: December 2012

Maybe the poets are on to something…

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I never really knew what this meant or why anyone would want to be away from the people they love just to strengthen their love. I was dumb.

It’s not a matter of wanting to be separated-life just divides people sometimes, temporarily, in this case. There’s just no fighting that. To battle this struggle of being separated from the one you love, you think about them. You think about them all the time, and you let your imagination take over when thinking of how you’re going to respond when you see them again. Should I kiss them first? Will they kiss me first? Will it be in public? Images painted across the walls of your mind like a fucking Monet.

Thomas Fuller said “Absence sharpens love, presence strengthens it.” Consider me a firm believer in this now. We don’t think about our loves when they are right in front of us so much as we do when we can’t feel their soft touch or their gentle touch. The lack of having the person beside you to hold is what makes your entire being yearn for them. The heart wants what the heart can’t have right at that moment. The heart is a whiny pre-schooler that manipulates to get their way.


Let’s be the cliche teenager for a moment.

Teenagers all fight the cliche. The cliche takes over. They complain. This is how teenagerdom works. Why do I chose this to be my first blog post? Well, we all have parents. This is fact. And my parents seem to be as different from any other parents as they can be. Sure, all teenagers say this, but hear me out. My mother was raised in a small town and has a very pessimistic view on life. My father was also raised in a small town and is even more pessimistic than my mother. Never have I met, nonetheless been raised by, such close-minded concrete people. In this, concrete has a negative connotation. As in, “hard as the ground upon which you walk” rather than “stable and knowing.” 

Example: The other day I mentioned to my father that I wanted to build a blanket fort. He becomes angered, and when questioned about it, he replies with the question of “What are you going to do in a blanket fort?” I know my father very well. This question was waning into that area that we don’t discuss with parents, the one mine are far too open about. 

Conclusion: Blanket forts are sex palaces now. This has been my first blog post. Thank you and goodnight.