Construction Paper Stars

Our Way

Don’t tell me you love me. Instead, tell me you want to travel the world with me. When we travel the world, the only thing to stop us will be delayed or cancelled flights when we will share an airport and our shoulders with each other. Tell you wouldn’t mind being marooned on an island with me, never to be found again. Our island will become our world. We won’t have to learn how to build or survive or how to be with each other, we will create our own ways. Say that I’m the one you want to go on adventures with. Our adventures will be chaotic, messy, and carefree. They will be ours, and we won’t worry about money, or bruises and scraps, because we know it’s the adventure that matters the most. Tell me that I’m the one you want to share amazing things with. But don’t tell me you love me. Life gets in the way of love and breaks it; so let’s create our own life with our love. That way our life and our love will be twice as strong.

My Place By the Window

I wish I could be more like Esperansa from The House on Mango Street. So strong and independent … I know that I am strong and independent, but I’m afraid that I’m one of the women sitting by the window. “Resting my dreams on my elbow,” “waiting for someone to come along and change my life.” I don’t want to wait for someone to come. I want to be brave enough to walk out the door because I open it, not because someone else opened it for me. But I’m so afraid. I let my fear slow me down. It keeps me in my place by the window, waiting for my life to start and the world to change.

A lesson in logging out has been learned. A wise persona never leaves themselves logged in to tumblr when they go to the bathroom and their friends are near. The last post is a result the nonsense that ensues. 

dear tumblr, 

my name is Gumbo Wheatley and I am not your average bear. I can do cartwheels but only on soft surfaces and once I wrote a paper about David Copperfield and I got a B+ which was lovely. Sometimes my mother likes to come into my room in the evenings to tell me hello, which is also lovely. Although I think it would have been more lovely of her to have not named me Gumbo at all, frankly. She’s a wonderful woman but I question her taste.

Have you even wondered what people taste like? I imagine a plumper person would be a lot like bacon, because of the anatomical similarity between pigs and humans and all. 

Food for thought. (unless I eat your brain, and then your thoughts are my food. weird, eh?)

best wishes, 

G.W.

I’m Still Here, are you?

Hey…um… I don’t know if you guys really noticed or anything, but I haven’t posted anything for awhile. So I’ll get back to that … soon.

I’ve had a Tumblr before, but I deleted it before finals last semester. I never posted anything of my own on it, but I managed to get 50 followers (I’m not bragging, I promise, I don’t know if that’s even anything to brag about). Somehow the 6 of you are more important to me than those 50. Probably because I’m finally brave enough to post my heart and you like it enough to follow… These few sentences are suppose to convey my appreciation to you by the way. I’m not sure if that is clear. So, thank you. I appreciate you dearly. Okay I’m done now.

An English Vocab Assignment from High School

Henry sat across from her with something awry. His mind was not on the woman before him. This young woman’s lecherous insolence disgusted him to shame. He was angry with himself for not realizing before this moment that this was not the young woman he was looking for. He was certain his epitaph would read, “Always looking, Never found.” His calamity was galling. He excused himself from his date. After walking a few blocks in the warm summer breeze, his anger and shame abated. While walking past a photography shop he remembered his ardor for the hobby. Stepping out of the shop, camera in hand, he crossed the street to a little park. Feeling the weight of the camera gave him the sense of the stability and certainty he was looking for. He knew this was right. Looking through the lens he saw a young woman sitting on a park bench daydreaming. A memory of a scrawny girl with mousy hair and clothes that were too big for her runs past his mind. He always noticed, even as a child, her dark green eyes hidden under her untamable hair. All he can see of that little girl in this grown woman are her eyes. The same dark green eyes that are now watching him with a faint smile playing on her lips. “Amber?” he called, certain yet unsure. A radiant smile spread across her face. In that smile, Henry saw his future.

Think Of Me

“Oh, someone is thinking about me,” the girl said surprised as she fixed her necklace.

“What?” said the boy startled. “What are you talking about?”

“When the clasp of your necklace comes to the front it means that someone is thinking about you,” she demonstrated. “You’ve never heard of that before?”

“No,” said the boy said as he looked away. While looking back he said “I don’t think it works.”

“Why not?” she said surprised once again.

“Because your clasp isn’t in the front all time,” he said looking down and away.

A smile and recognition crept slowly across her face.

Where We Began

The chain to my heart necklace was so long, that it lay on the floor beside me. It wasn’t the only thing that lay next to me. I watched as he picked up my heart and turned it over in his hands. Taking the time to examine every scratch, every crack, and every groove of my heart. When he was done he didn’t throw it away as I expected. He held onto it like he would never let go.

Clocking the World

Tell me when it’s over

When I can stop holding my breath

And stop waiting.

I want to start

Crawling

Moving

Walking

Running

Anything I can

Fire the gun, wave the flag, blow the whistle

Forget the clock, it’s just a toy

The clock can chase me all it wants

I’ll run until the world blurs

I want I want I want

To breath

To laugh

To cry

To see

To hear

To be

And only when I’ve lived will I stop for the clock.

I’m ready when you are

He told me no. He didn’t understand. I had already left, I’ve already let go. Now it’s his turn. Please understand, I’m not running away from you, I’m running to me. I’m waiting out there, somewhere, I just have to find myself. You need to let me start looking. My eyes are open, my heart is ready. But I’m still waiting. I’m waiting for your eyes to open and your heart to be ready. You’re not only freeing me to find myself, you’re letting yourself free to find you as well.