my best friend

Kyle.
Curled up on the couch in a dark room watching some super low-budget indie film, I feel like the only person still alive. Everything is still, I haven't heard a sound or seen anything outside of this movie for what feels like forever. I can't remember who I am nor can I focus on where I am. I look over, expecting to see him slumped over in his chair fast asleep. But he's not. He's wide awake and as, if not more, engrossed in the weird movie as I am. I smile, because of course he's not sleeping, why would he be? And when the movie's over and the credits tumble down the screen, neither of us says anything. We're just staring off into nothingness, ingesting that new sort of feeling after a good movie. When we finally look at each other, we both burst out laughing, because this movie that probably cost one fiftieth of what Hollywood movies cost to make has made us feel different, has made us feel new, has left us questioning. And then we talk about it, about what it means, how we feel, what the point is. And I love him. I really do, because he's the only person who I can be like this with and who is like this with me.
We've known each other forever. Since we were five and he was the weird, fat kid that lived down the street and I was the "playground slut" with no girl friends. We never really talked though. We always had different groups of friends. And then, the summer after seventh grade, we started "going out" at Kate's end of the year luau. I remember we were laying by the fire, looking up at the stars and he said something about weird they were and I remember feeling the exact same way. After a while we broke up and just sort of became friends. I don't remember the exact moment, I just remember that I felt like we'd always been like this, or were supposed to be. And through all the bullshit since then, we've somehow only gotten closer and closer.
I think he's my soul mate, if such a thing exists. He knows me so well, because he is me. When we talk, it's like he's saying all the thoughts that I haven't been able to put into words. And we can talk about anything. That's a cliche, but whatever. In our case, we actually can. Religion and dreams are some of our most frequented topics, but we can still talk about the dumb stuff like our other friends, our boyfriends/girlfriends, etc. He's just so smart and deep, he gets me like I can't get myself, if that makes sense.
And he's the only guy that I don't feel the need to be something for. I can just be whatever. He's seen me at my worst and my best, with and without makeup, in dirty sweats and in practically nothing, and it doesn't make a difference. I don't feel different around him when I'm not made up, because that's not what it's about with him. I don't need to look good, he already knows what I look like.
We're with each other all the time, but even when we're not things aren't weird. There are weeks when he'll come over every night to do "math" (which usually ends up being me copying his and us watching one of my dad's movies) and then there will be weeks when we won't even talk, but it doesn't make a difference. He's like reading your favorite book or watching your favorite movie, it doesn't matter how long it's been since you've last seen it or read it, it's still gonna be as good as you remember it, if not better. And when we are together, it's amazing yet nothing special. But in a good way like when you go to your favorite class, you go all the time but it's still your favorite, still good.
And he'll always be like that. Familiar and amazing. My worst fear is that we'll go different ways after high school and never see each other again. We've made plans to get married, make up our own religion, have ten kids and force them to be extremely smart and read all our favorite books. But who knows what will happen. And for right now, that's okay.

Shh.

One of the absolute worst things in the entire world that you could ever see, I've been lucky enough to see three times. Once when I was eleven, and twice in the last four months. It's something so extremely horrible, you can never quite recover. It's your parents...doing it. Like the it it thing. The thing that's almost okay for you to do, but not for your parents. It's the reason we're all here, but God, it's nasty. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and die. If you've never seen it, consider yourself truly, truly blessed. And if you have.....you have my sympathy, but not really because you probably haven't had to see it three fricken times, which I still can't believe that I've had to.
The first time wasn't so bad, well as not-so-bad as seeing your parents having sex can be. But I was only eleven and I guess I had never even considered it. I always thought that parents stopped doing that after they had babies and I must be wrong about what I saw. Anyway, I told my sister and we both agreed to not ever speak to them again. After a while we kind of forgot about it but I can still picture it perfectly and uh...yuck. Then, like four months ago, it happened again. Like wow, lock the door please. Or just don't do that at all cause it's extremely disgusting. But yep, I walked in to tell them I was home because they always make me check in when I get home and surprise surprise...guess who's on top of who. And then again. It was my dog's birthday and I had an alarm set for midnight to get up and wish him happy birthday (yes, I realize how dumb this sounds). But anyway, I walk in and ah, parents. naked.yuckyuckcyuckcyuckyuck. I could seriously kill myself, it's that gross. That is the absolute worst thing I have ever had to endure in my fifteen years and probably will remain number one for the rest of my life, except for maybe natural childbirth (which I never plan to do and anyway I'll get something out of that I guess and this, well this is just sick) or if I walk in on them when they're like eighty or something. That would just be super cool.
In any case, what I have learned from all of this (besides that my parents still do it) is that walking into your parents bedroom, is never okay. No matter what. Even if it's the middle of a Sunday and you can hear them talking about taxes. And if you absolutely have to, stomp your feet on the way to the door, whistle or hum or sing as loudly as possible, then knock, really really loudly numerous times to make sure they've heard you, wait 2-7 minutes, depending on how long it takes your parents to get decent, before opening the door, then proceed with caution. Because really, it's something you could definitely go your entire life without ever seeing.

when your wheels stop turning

You're really something. I hate that expression, I do. Yet it's perfect because all the words I could try to use to describe you aren't good enough. All the usual words, beautiful or perfect or stunning, they've all been used by so many, too many, other people to describe multitudes of other people and I want a word that is only from me about you. But I can't make up a word, can I? And what kind of word could possibly suffice? How could I put into one single word everything about you that I love? How could I think up a word to describe how your eyes change in the sun? Or how you shove your hands in your pocket and give me that close-lipped smile when I'm ranting on and on about something? Or how much I wish I was that filthy stick of nicotine that is forever contentedly burning between your fingers? Or how you can still see me when I'm fading into the background? Or how I can talk to you about anything and everything and you talk back no matter what? How could I say that? How do you describe someone you love when the word love can't even begin to cover it? How can I put into a single word how you make me feel like what I have to say matters even when I feel like everything has already been said? How can I?

Stiff

This guy I know is getting married. He's a bit "out there" and I guess I don't quite understand him or know him well. Anyway, his bride-to-be is his exact opposite. He's fat, she's TV thin. He's intelligent and extremely arrogant and loud about it, she's very quiet and meager. And I just don't get it. I don't understand why she would want to be with him. I know that it's obviously something beyond looks, which is good, but I just don't understand.
The way she stood quietly behind him as he gloated and gloated about something in that voice that only people who call themselves "intelligent" talk, it just made me think of them being a couple. You know, walking together and being alone together and eating out somewhere and going to parties and being in bed together and meeting each others families, and I wondered what kind of things she says. I wondered what she would say when they got in the car to go home. Or what she would tell him if he told her to do something really absurd.
And I think that she's scared. I think that she's insecure and she makes up for that insecurity by being with him. And I think he's content with it because he wants control, he wants to control her and for her to be his, which is really stupid because nobody should belong to anyone. We aren't dogs. (Right?) Anyway, it all made me feel really sad for her because I could see their whole life ahead of them and I could see her being unhappy and him not caring and her finally leaving him and being stuck with the three kids and no money. All because she didn't know herself well enough to be herself and she wanted someone to tell her who she is. Why is that? Why do we want someone to order us around, someone to make the decisions, tell us who we should be? It's "unhealthy", but it's exciting. I personally love that. When the guy is cocky and overbearing and actually has a right to be. Is it because we want to be feminine and when the guy is a guy and not a man, we're forced to be a man, which interferes with us being feminine? (If you followed that). Or is it just simply easier not to have to think?

I just hope you understand

You know how there are those people that you look at and you see them, not how their hair looks today or their body or face shape, you just see them? You know them so well that the way they look doesn't make any difference at all anymore? How do you define that? How can you pinpoint exactly when it happens and why and especially how? Or like when the places you go to frequently change? Everything is in the same place but it looks different, you see it differently? How does that happen? Is it because we change and our outlook changes? Or is it some weird, supernatural thing where the place actually does change? But how could that be?
The place I notice that most in is my grandma's house. Sometimes I go there and I don't notice anything different, it just is. But then there are those times that I go there and feel differently than normal, but it's familiar. I've seen it this way, felt this way before. Or is it me thats changing? Am I just remembering how I used to see it and how I used to feel?
Or when I look at my sister or Ariel. I can't actually see how they "look". I can only see them. And the way they look is exactly the same as it always is and always has been and I can't notice it. But I can look at other people and see their appearance. How does that happen? When does knowing a person mean more than seeing them? At what point in a relationship does personality surpass appearance?

i'm working, but i'm not working for you

Have you ever wanted something weird? It's wrong and "creepy" but you just can't let it go. And you know that if people knew they would look at you differently or give you that one look that people give you when they think you're weird and "funny" (and not in the ha-ha way). But you don't have much else going on in your life and so you focus on it, even though you shouldn't, and before you know it, it's turned into a full-fledged obsession. Then all you can do is think about it and obsess over it and get depressed. So you tell your friends because you tell your friends everything and they confirm your earlier assumption by giving you "that look", which only makes you feel worse and fall into an even deeper depression. But you're not depressed. And you're not obsessed. You're just "weird" because you want something "weird" and the more you think about it, the more you don't know what it is or why you're obsessed with it so you think some more. Which just drags you into deeper thought, and then you fall asleep not remembering what it was you were thinking about. And then the next morning you wake up, and you think about it, the weird thing you want. And throughout the day you think about it and think about it until you don't know what it is or why you want it and you fall asleep and it starts all over and you wonder how or when it even began in the first place.

sometimes the first thing you want never comes

It's weird to think that there's another reality. One that's so completely different from the one we live in, that the people living in it are considered "unstable". One that doesn't involve getting up every morning and going to bed every night, or getting a job and making decent money, or even basically surviving. One where the people aren't always looking for more or trying to move up in the world, but one where they're just living, if you can even call it that. One that is only in their heads. And they chose it. That's what a lot of people don't understand. Most of them chose it. They experienced it once and then decided to stay. They saw something new, something different and then they saw the actual reality and they chose their way. It's like they'd been walking on this clear cut path and now they came to a crossroad. One side was exactly what they'd been doing with clearly marked lines and predictability. The other side was confusing with blurry lines and it was all spinning and multi-colored. And they chose the weird side. They were intrigued. And what's so wrong with that?

remembering every star

Let's say you go on vacation to some famous place like Paris. You get to stay for seven days, a week. You will most likely never be back to Paris in your lifetime so what do you want to do? Likely you want to see all the sights, like the Eiffel Tower, and experience all the things you can there before the week is up, right? So why don't we do that with Earth?
The way I see it, we're all on vacation. An extremely extended vacation, but still a vacation. Yet, rarely anyone takes advantage of it. How many of us actually go and "see the sights"? How many of us travel around and experience all there is to experience? Not very many. We all seem to follow this routine. Go to high school, go to college, get a job, get married, have kids, blah, blah blah. But what's the point? We're all doing what we're supposed to do, but does it really make us happy? Or is it someone else's vision of what makes them happy and we're all just trying to live up to that expectation?
What if your vacation ended tomorrow? What if you ceased to exist after tonight? Would you be satisfied with what you've been doing, what you've done? Would you be OK with the fact that you've never seen the Seven Wonders? (Or eight or whatever that is) Or would you regret the fact that you were someplace great and never saw the sights?