Joe D., 12th Grade
L.I.F.E
Life has a funny way of changing overnight
It's kinda like a wave that
Flows constantly and without direction
Even though time continues on like a steady stream
There's a peculiar reality to the fact that all of life's stories tend to hold a common theme. Everyone's main priority in life is to be happy. It's as simple as that.
Chapter 1
Monday, September 17
I looked over towards my Dad to see if the picture was centered, and began to read my newly purchased plaque aloud once more.
"It's kinda like a parachute. If you wait until the last second to pull it, then you're probably gonna die."
I'm not sure what this really means, or how it's supposed to apply to my life; or anyone's life to be perfectly honest, but I thought it was pretty captivating when I stumbled upon it at the clearance store. That's why I framed it. For some reason, I find it fascinating to come across random analogies. Once I even read that having inspirational and intriguing expressions in the house can help one to cope with depression. I don't see how, but I figured what's the harm in trying.
My Dad kinda smiled at me. This was probably the thirtieth picture that I had asked him to hang up this month. "Does that look about right?" My dad asked as he hung the picture up on the wall in my room.
"Yep." I said glancing around at my entire collection of random analogies. "Looks great. Thanks again Dad."
"Alright Nate." He said with a lingering firmness "Now you need to clean your room. It looks like an earthquake erupted through this place."
I looked down at all the clothes on the floor. "Sure alright." I answered, because I couldn't even deny that my room was messy; it just looked worse than it actually was is all. As my father left and went into his office I was off to getting started on all this cleaning.
It takes me forever to get stuff done. It's not necessarily because I'm a lazy seventeen year old teenager or anything like that. I'm just always ridiculously tired, and I really don't have the time, and then when I finally do get the time, it's always the struggle between one very difficult decision:
should I...
(A) clean my room?
Or
(B) go to sleep in it instead?
There's something about option B that always speaks to me, which then leaves me knocked out in my room for hours when I'm supposed to be doing something productive.
It takes a lot for me to finally get into my focused zone. I don't know how people do it. People don't know the struggle, because for example: my mom might tell me to do the dishes, but then I also have homework, so I end up taking about an hour to decipher which one to do first. I know it sounds crazy, but instead of being smart and getting it over with, I might go to my room and just sit down and stare at nothing. I'm that crazy person that actually walks around in circles in the house. I'm that person that opens the fridge and stares at nothing for a solid minute, even though I'm not even hungry. But I don't know. I guess that's how my life goes.
It's just my two brothers and me. I guess I'm the oldest, but my parents actually had one kid before me. A girl. Her name was Autumn, and six years after that, they had me. Mom told me that Autumn had a tumor that developed on the side of her lungs when she was 8, and she died a couple months later. She had died when I was only two, and my parents had two more boys after that. But I still think they were always hoping to have that one daughter to replace her. Others try to tell me that she's over it because she's had the three of us boys, but I know that's not true. You don't just get over things like that. Mom tells me that you can learn to accept it, and you can learn how to cope, but the pain never really goes away.
Again, I was only two when it happened, so of coarse I don't remember much. I practically don't know Autumn at all, so I can't say I feel mom's pain or anything. I only know her by the pictures they keep in the dining room, and in all honestly I have no clue why they have them there. I would much rather the pictures be in another spot, because whenever company has dinner, they always bring her up which irks me to all end. Then they have the nerve to ask the dumbest question, and I quote: "So how old would she have been now?"
Why does that even matter? It's basically just as bad as blatantly asking someone from the military: "Did you ever kill anyone?"
People's dumb questions surprise me everyday. But every time I look at the picture, I'm always somehow reminded about her. In the picture, you see Autumn and I at an amusement park with Mom and Dad. Autumn is smiling and staring at me in my stroller, while her ponytail is practically flailing in my parents face. Looking at this picture always forces me to contemplate how different life must have been back then.
Life has a funny way of changing overnight
It's kinda like a wave that
Flows constantly and without direction
Even though time continues on like a steady stream
There's a peculiar reality to the fact that all of life's stories tend to hold a common theme. Everyone's main priority in life is to be happy. It's as simple as that.
Chapter 1
Monday, September 17
I looked over towards my Dad to see if the picture was centered, and began to read my newly purchased plaque aloud once more.
"It's kinda like a parachute. If you wait until the last second to pull it, then you're probably gonna die."
I'm not sure what this really means, or how it's supposed to apply to my life; or anyone's life to be perfectly honest, but I thought it was pretty captivating when I stumbled upon it at the clearance store. That's why I framed it. For some reason, I find it fascinating to come across random analogies. Once I even read that having inspirational and intriguing expressions in the house can help one to cope with depression. I don't see how, but I figured what's the harm in trying.
My Dad kinda smiled at me. This was probably the thirtieth picture that I had asked him to hang up this month. "Does that look about right?" My dad asked as he hung the picture up on the wall in my room.
"Yep." I said glancing around at my entire collection of random analogies. "Looks great. Thanks again Dad."
"Alright Nate." He said with a lingering firmness "Now you need to clean your room. It looks like an earthquake erupted through this place."
I looked down at all the clothes on the floor. "Sure alright." I answered, because I couldn't even deny that my room was messy; it just looked worse than it actually was is all. As my father left and went into his office I was off to getting started on all this cleaning.
It takes me forever to get stuff done. It's not necessarily because I'm a lazy seventeen year old teenager or anything like that. I'm just always ridiculously tired, and I really don't have the time, and then when I finally do get the time, it's always the struggle between one very difficult decision:
should I...
(A) clean my room?
Or
(B) go to sleep in it instead?
There's something about option B that always speaks to me, which then leaves me knocked out in my room for hours when I'm supposed to be doing something productive.
It takes a lot for me to finally get into my focused zone. I don't know how people do it. People don't know the struggle, because for example: my mom might tell me to do the dishes, but then I also have homework, so I end up taking about an hour to decipher which one to do first. I know it sounds crazy, but instead of being smart and getting it over with, I might go to my room and just sit down and stare at nothing. I'm that crazy person that actually walks around in circles in the house. I'm that person that opens the fridge and stares at nothing for a solid minute, even though I'm not even hungry. But I don't know. I guess that's how my life goes.
It's just my two brothers and me. I guess I'm the oldest, but my parents actually had one kid before me. A girl. Her name was Autumn, and six years after that, they had me. Mom told me that Autumn had a tumor that developed on the side of her lungs when she was 8, and she died a couple months later. She had died when I was only two, and my parents had two more boys after that. But I still think they were always hoping to have that one daughter to replace her. Others try to tell me that she's over it because she's had the three of us boys, but I know that's not true. You don't just get over things like that. Mom tells me that you can learn to accept it, and you can learn how to cope, but the pain never really goes away.
Again, I was only two when it happened, so of coarse I don't remember much. I practically don't know Autumn at all, so I can't say I feel mom's pain or anything. I only know her by the pictures they keep in the dining room, and in all honestly I have no clue why they have them there. I would much rather the pictures be in another spot, because whenever company has dinner, they always bring her up which irks me to all end. Then they have the nerve to ask the dumbest question, and I quote: "So how old would she have been now?"
Why does that even matter? It's basically just as bad as blatantly asking someone from the military: "Did you ever kill anyone?"
People's dumb questions surprise me everyday. But every time I look at the picture, I'm always somehow reminded about her. In the picture, you see Autumn and I at an amusement park with Mom and Dad. Autumn is smiling and staring at me in my stroller, while her ponytail is practically flailing in my parents face. Looking at this picture always forces me to contemplate how different life must have been back then.