Notebook Day 4: 5/27

The unbearably hot days were getting unfathomable. So when they sky darkened over last night, I opened my bedroom window as far as it could possibly go. I felt the first cold breeze I had felt in over two weeks. I was exulted, actually laughing from the relieving winds. Intoxicated by the smell of the rain, I stumbled out the front door and onto the lawn. The grass welcomed my shape and molded to fit around me when I laid down, and I gazed up into the sepia clouds, deep green trees surrounding the horizon. My blue skin glowed up toward the gray colored winds, as I waited for the sky to cry on me.

I flew through an abyss of time, waiting for a drop to land on my stone eyes, paper mouth, granite hand. My winter face forever drained of colors. I was hardened by reality's bright rays, dried out from giving all my strength in the heat, in my own personal drought. I was running on adrenaline, tired of hiding under covers as sunlight crawled through the outlines of the shades. Patience was the greatest asset I bared. Alone underneath a halo that acted as my umbrella, I cursed particles of light that reached the silver wind.

Nobody I told could say they related. They wore small smiles, as if to pretend they could. It's okay. I rather stay in my own world, vastly decorated with muted-color nature, as if a scene from a movie. I just quietly hummed inside my head as I prayed for a rain to fall onto my third eye and roll off onto my temples, soaking the hair there, tracing the outline of my body so it would leave an imprint of me in the earth.

Super Power

I have a secret power.

I can morph and change my communicative style
to be on the same level as somebody else.

I can understand their emotions, side with their happiness,
confidence,
anger.

People are predictable.
I know what will happen next.

Some call it being psychic.

Others call it sympathy, empathy.

Maybe it's just
being
nice.

June's rain had washed away all the pain and replaced it with a new me. I changed a lot that month, locked up in my newly painted green walls, healing my skin and my mind. Forever cold air radiated my body, a lack of sunshine proved me who I am today. I felt the agony of not being like everyone else for the first time. I felt quiet, yet inwardly at war with myself, feeling more confused than ever.

I was consumed in a "fantasy" world of sporadic love and muted violence, lost in the questions I had, "Why can't it be real?". Who says it wasn't? Human minds are often ignorant. Searching for answers, I set out to find myself, for I was the only person in the world who could do that.

What I found was quite intriguing, but highly illogical in the minds of the indifferent, even though proven scientifically correct. The disbelief was flattening my chances at evolving myself in my path of discovery. I learned that, I should be the person that I trust most. Not everyone is as incredibly, and heart-breakingly open minded as I am. In a way, it is necessary for me to know this.

Until I find truth, I will remain this way, shying away from spots of light and lingering in the shadows to find a creature as wretchedly detached from society as I am.

What might really be the answer, is that I am utterly and depressingly, psychologically set apart from the rest of the world. And no one will ever fully understand why I think certain things, and I will never fully understand why they don't think the same way.

It rained for three weeks that month.

It was a very distinct and prevalent thing to me, but nobody else seems to recall or remember how much it actually did rain. I think I know why I feel a connection to rain now. As I was shaping a new me, staring out the window into the rain, it became a part of me, as if it helped create a new mind for me. It remains, forever a piece inside of my body, a host for my thoughts.

Unbeknownst

I am unknown to the ones of my kind
When a darkness clouds the rays of sunshine.
The rain that erases the constant bleak
everyone shies, and their knees become weak.
Prevailing omnipresent blessing now,
living on ways of inspiration and how
I do not know but my people must keep,
while they are wishing and dreaming in sleep.
I will be hiding and hoping away,
that I can be seen in new light someday.

Loss

When your pen runs out of ink,
you've left it bleeding
and can no longer write because it doesn't feel the same.
Inspiration has died,
like the snap of a twig,
leaves falling in the winter,
a little too late to fix anything
with beaten hands
and clear, sad eyes.

Almost

Like walking through a dark forest
possibilities loom around ever unseen corner
that maybe misunderstood darkness will prevail
take over my mind
and nothing else will matter.
Just like that.
Almost.

Callings linger in the hearts of trees and winds and rains
The blessed spirits that calm passing creatures.
Like unspoken whispers and invisible hands
reaching out to capture my soul.
Almost.

Levels of balance structured in pieces
and tears of the sky fall to nourish
broken dreams
and broken hearts.
Like a sixth sense being drawn in.
Almost.

Notebook Day 3: 5/19

Rain can be interpreted in many ways. For some, it is a gloomy idea that suppresses any desire to do anything. For others, it is a foreshadowing concept, meant to lead on the main character in a story to his fate. Which brings us to how rain is interpreted in books.

Rain is always meant to allude to something in stories. It is involved in the reuniting of lovers, as they see each other for the first time in a long time in which their only goal was to see the other, and they run the long distance to one another and share a passionate kiss. Yea. That's what happens.

Maybe a tragic time is dramatized with pouring rain on a war battle, or a car accident. The rain pours down the faces of people in hardships like sweat and tears, and they look up and curse the sky and wonder why this has happened, as if the rain could pours answers into their head. Who knows? Maybe it can.

Sometimes a character is having bad day, and big shocker, rain decides to come, and suddenly their day is somehow much worse. They sit and sulk while they lean their head up against the window and watch the rain drops spill on the glass, silently racing downward.

In all of these, rain is an omen. Some sort of omnipresent blessing that for sure is bound to make something happen. And rain is all of these things above. It is special. Whether you want to admit it or not, some of the best things happen in the rain.

Okay, expansion to my little idea

Since I am full of a crazy junk-load of ideas, I am considering the idea of "This is my world". It will be a portion of this project that uses the people I know, and my inspiration to create what my world is like. This is going to be a video that I will attempt to post here on this blog.

Sorry for all the excessive updates, and for apologizing a lot after I write things.
-Sam

Who are you?

Just a quick thought while I have some time to kill in math class. Who are you? What makes you, you? I know I will be focusing on mostly me for this assignment, but part of me, and part of everyone involves how we are influenced by those around us. For most of us, everyday we see the same people, and spend our day with them. but sometimes, you may not even know that persons name, or some small incentive about them. You may know tons about a few of them, because you are likely to have friends. (Friends are a psychological need, so yes, you at least have acquaintances).

I am proposing a mini project within this project: to find out how I relate to everyone else by what we are inspired by. And if I fail, I'm sorry, that's okay. This is an attempted psycho-analysis by observance, something I have known to be pretty good at.

Sorry, I will tie the loose ends later.

Born from Rain

A child
conceived from anonymous wishes and dreams,
or peoples.
Unknown to anyone
for a little while,
a little quiet song in the sky.
Growing in the clouds,
inspiration darted through Zeus.

The soul was collected from the eldest.
Little pieces of wise put together
like a puzzle for the gods and parents.

And baby dropped with the rain,
showers, and bloom,
into the arms of a women
who claimed the position of mother.

But baby never new the secrets
of the great past
in which she was created.

Notebook Day 2: 5/11

It's not raining today. (boohoo). However the forecast says it may rain tomorrow, but the show must go on.

But since it is sunny and cloudless today, I figured it would be a good day to go off on one of my theories as to why rain appeals to me. We must start by looking at the sun, not literally of course. It's bright, it makes everything lit up, and the sky is blue when it comes out. It makes me want to hide in the shadows of my hair. It is, in a way, obnoxious. Sun and I don't mix. The sun is peppy and overrated to be bouncy and happy and perfect.

Rain fits by personality. It is dark, mysterious, it makes everything very defined, and overcast is never the same so it makes everything look different, whereas everything always looks the same in the sun. I am not peppy and outgoing, I'm more quiet, thoughtful, peaceful, and solemn. There is more meaning behind the curtain of clouds and hidden emotions. Rain is a stage that is involved in a cycle that travels all around the world. It is universal, so to speak.

So this must be another reason why it appeals to me. I can relate to it, it's just a little bit hard to explain. Rain feels like home.

Connectivity

This is bigger than me.

Physically, it combs through the tangled knots of Earths being.
But mentally,
it is incomprehensible.

The nature, the people
all of it.

It's connected.

The very being of me
is intrinsic
to the core of the universe.

There is karma
and balance
and good and bad to cross everything out,
like labels and scary things.

Nature is our mother
life is our song.
We are who we are because of who was before us.
We have a blessing. We are the misused omen.

Not scientific, but idealistic,
purposeful and complete.

Everything happens for a reason.

Notebook: Day One:5/8

I am getting a headstart, it was irresistible.

I woke up this morning with my head buzzing with thoughts. I wasn't aware that I was conscious until I noticed two things. One: it wasn't a school day so I had absolutely nothing to be frantic about. As soon as my thoughts had shut up I could relax and notice thing number two: I could hear the rain outside. Once I realized it was raining I was elated, exalted, yet peaceful.

I love the rain. I love it more than the sun. In fact most of the time, I dislike the sun. It is too bright and warm and gives me a headache and a sunburn. Both of of those things are unneeded. So, my infatuation with rain grows. When it rains, my insides seem to float, like they are being coaxed out by the rain. I want to go too. It may seem strange or dramatic, but when I asked myself why I love rain so much, the answer came surprisingly fast, and I think it is a one of two or three reasons I love rain (and I haven't figured out the other two or three completely yet so I will let you know.)

So reason one as to why I love the rain: it appeals to all five of my senses. I love the way rain looks, sounds, smells, tastes, and feels. It creates an essence for the day. Everything turns lush, accented green, and healthy looking, and is compliented by the gray sky, and darkened gray pavement. The rain hits against my windows and roof rhythmically, like a song that lulls me to sleep. It makes the air smell and taste clean and fresh. And it cleansing my skin whenever I go out in it. I feel new and light, like I could run somewhere, with incredible speed and never get tired.

After the rain, everthing is calm and beautiful. Almost like the rain is still there, having kissed every surface. When it is cloudy, it is like the rain is almost there, but if it never comes, I find myself anxious, sitting on the edge of my seat. But now that it has rained today, I can feel at one with myself, for reasons I can not yet explain, but hopefully will be able to after more of these notebook entries.

Written Proposal

This is the second project I will be tackling with this blog. This assignment focuses on the question "Who or what inspires you?". I will be exploring what inspires me, and how it inspires me to do something. My inspiration is nature, and things that are natural, such as rain, forests and emotions, and it inspires me to create something, such as a poem, or a song (my passion). In this multi-genre blog, I will write a notebook, marking "days of inspiration". These will be days when it rains, or times when I experience or notice an unusual emotion. To show my inspiration, I will write poems, or songs and share them here. For further genres, I will make signs and take photographs and of the things that inspire me. And for my final trick, all of this will be done on June 7th.