Why do kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

Monday, January 9, 2012

To Whom It May Concern:

Dear Class,

If you really knew me, maybe you'd like me more than my 'School Face' that I put on.  You'd know that I could tell you all six hundred and forty six Pokemon, as well as their types.

You'd know that I don't get the respect I feel I deserve, and now know why.  You'd know I cry more than any other teenage guy, from ages 13-19.  You'd know I am not hilarious.

If you really knew me,  you'd know I just do what everybody else does, like some robot.  You'd know I am an actor, a singer, a baker, a laugher, a joker, a downer, a lover, and a hater.

You'd know that all of my writing is self righteous and whiny, neither deep nor exciting.  You'd know my writing is a call for help.  A call which won't be answered because of the way I write.  You'd know that I'm stressed to my neck in Mythology.  Why my neck, I have no idea.

If you really knew me, you'd know that I play basketball, ping pong, tennis, and ultimate frisbee.  You'd know I was raised in a sheltered life, and hearing someone say hell as a regular word was a shock.  You'd know I've gotten desensitised to swearing, and now accept that people do it.

If you really knew me, you'd reach out to me, and you'd want to befriend me.  You'd know I hide behind a creepy, nerdy, wimpy facade, hoping that no one will get close enough to me to see the horror's underneath.

You'd know I feel pride, but not that I'm better than anyone, but that everyone is better than me.  If you really knew me, you'd know that I aspire to be perfect, or a teacher, whichever is better.

If you really knew me, you'd be shocked, surprised, inspired, wowed, stupefied, indignant, discombobulated, ecstatic, amazed, sorrowful, mentally unstable, judgemental, neurotic.

Thanks for a fun class.
-THM

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Jealous Footprints

Mary Stevenson writes a poem that always strikes me as deep.  I always try to write deeply.  Fail.  I can really never write uplifting things, and this poem, entitled 'Footprints in the Sand' is a very uplifting poem.

In one line, she demands "Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?"  All of us feel lonely at some point in our lives.  We feel friendless, we feel dumb, we feel hopeless, we feel isolated.  We have all had depression issues.  We have all felt as though no one else in the world was alone.

Yet, the response to her demand is this: "The times you have only seen one set of footprints, is when I carried you."  We are not alone.  Ever.  There is someone who has felt the way you do.  There is someone on the Earth who would listen to your troubles.  They would comfort you.  They would lift you up.  They would there is someone who would befriend you.

I wish it was me.  I am not the kindest or wisest, but I try to comfort you.  Not only me, but many other people.  Many people love you.  It sounds creepy, but we are friends.  I don't have to know you to help you.  I don't have to know you to comfort you.

When you are feeling alone, find someone else who is and befriend them.  It will make you feel better.  I promise.

http://www.footprints-inthe-sand.com/index.php?page=Poem/Poem.php

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Punch the Voice!

This is for the Dragon Ball fans.  Voices say it sucks.  Punch the voice!
This is for the kids who sit at the front of their classes because they want to learn.  This is for the girls wearing glasses who watch anime.  This is for anyone who has experienced a broken heart.  This is for the friends of the friendless.  Punch the voice!

Everything we try to do has resistance.  Most of the time, this is the voice of our peers.  They mock us, the belittle us, they haunt us with the voices.  So I say punch the voice.  Kick it out of your head.  Kick the winning field goal with a rude comment from your head.  Crush the opposition that resounds in your head.  Crush it and enjoy the Opposition juice that flows from it.  Punch the voice that says you can't.  Smash its mouth.

This is for those who raise up a torch to light the way for others.  This is for the boys in French 4.  This is for those who want to be classy.  This is for the girl who won't ask that guy on a date because she's too afraid he'll say no.  This is for the boy who is too afraid to ask that one girl on a date for fear she'll laugh.

Punch the voice.

Bring it to it's knees.  Make it regret telling you what you can or can't do.  Show no mercy.  Punish it for the pain it causes you.

This is for the black boys and girls who have parents or grandparents who experienced the worst age in United States history.  This is for those who are ignored, or have been ignored.  This is for those who sit alone at lunch.  This is for the skinny boys.

Punch the voice.  Win the UFC Championship with your knockout punch.  Send the voice spiralling into the farthest reaches of the dark universe of your head to be swallowed by a black hole.

This is for the hairy, drunk men who have had a wife leave them.  This is for the pimply teenagers.  This is for the Harry Potter fans who cosplay and think that magic is real.  This is for those who can't get jobs.  This is for the crack fiends, the alchoholics, and the chain smokers.

Punch the voice.

This is for the homeless.  PUNCH the vOiCe.

This is for the veterans.  PUNCH the VoIcE.

This is the one who just has themself.  pUnCh ThE vOiCe!

PUNCH THE VOICE!