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Whatever my mind happens to be snarky about.
It's a given that this is my journal. And it should be known that I don't know what else to put in here. So, I guess......Well, I love hats. I have a tiedye bucket hat, tiedye hat with rabbit ears on it. I also have this huge witch hat! It's black wi
This is my speech for everyone who is reading it!
Okay for english we had to write a speech. The topic is why me why not and we can do whatever we want with it. This is how I twisted it. Also, it has to be 4-5 minutes. Now I have not timed it so I may cut a poem or two out to make it fit. And my poems are not edited very well, so if anyone wants to go correct one for grammar for me feel free to. And that first line is all my introduction has to it. I feel that if I introduced the subjects at all it would take away from what I'm trying to say. Yes, i did write all of the stuff in here. Thank you for reading!




Why me? Why not? This is my collaboration.



No spot to cry.
No space for pain.

No room for laughter.
No time for smiles.

I can’t be glad.
I can’t be sad.

Drifting farther,
falling deeper,

running faster,
getting nowhere,

needing help,
getting scorn.

Why can’t I leave?
Where can I go?

Trying to love,
getting contempt.

Take one step forward,
take fifty back.



Why me?
Why not?
Don’t put that horrid twist
on those seemingly harmless words.
Why must everyone hate me?
It goes through your mind every day.
I know,
I hear you whisper that to yourself.
All the time.
And please don’t say Why not?
Why should I be here if no one wants me?
Don’t say that
Please.
You’re caught in a cycle,
one that you can’t break.
You’re upside-down,
falling on your head.
There it goes again.
You’re the last one there.
You’re left behind.



Don’t speak those words.
Not now,
not ever,
no one should ever have to say that,
no one should live with that pain.
the indescribable pain of what it means to be truly alone.
Being in that void,
knowing that
no matter what you do,
no one wants you.



You’ve been sleeping in the graveyard,
playing with the ghosts,
living in their moment,
moving in their past.
Wallowing in a present time of
ongoing tragedy,
eternally falling,
dropping step by step,
hitting each sharp edge.
As each edge hits you
leaving yet another bloody bruise,
you cry;
yelling out,
putting your hand forward,
waiting,
hoping,
for someone to grab it,
even though,
it’s weak,
covered in blood and bruises,
scrapes and scares.
Isn’t there someone
who can grab it,
pull you up,
stop you in your eternal fall,
Is there not someone who is willing?
Willing to save you
to simply grab your hand
taking you away
away from this place
This void
an abyss with a bottom
a bottom of sugar sweet death
one that will end it all
relieve you of your pain
finally giving you a gift
one of bliss
because you know it’s over
you won’t have to see the swirling innards of your tornado
there will be no one to hurt you
they can’t push you away anymore
people can’t tell you to die
none of it
none of you sadness
pain,
injuries
bruises
scrapes
blood and scars
none of it can swirl around
dragging you to the bottom.



Don’t speak those words.
No self doubt here.
I know there isn’t much I can do.
But still…
I won’t let you harm yourself.
I can’t bear to see you beat yourself up every day.
You think I don’ know,
and sure it’s true,
I don’t know exactly.
But no one can.
though You’d surprised,
just how much I do know.



I would like to say that depression suicide is more preventable than people think. It doesn’t take someone who is specially trained. Anyone can do it. I truly believe that all it takes is for someone to notice and then to care, simply to care; nothing more, but also nothing less. All anyone ever wants is to be cared about and to care about someone in return. It’s that simple to give someone a bit of hope. And you’d be surprised just how much hope can be given by caring alone.

Arishy
Community Member
  • [11/27/08 06:18am]
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  • [02/18/08 06:11pm]
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  • User Comments: [5]
    Arishy
    Community Member





    Mon Feb 18, 2008 @ 06:12pm


    Any comments?

    yeah, my teachers hated. my real teacher gave me a 74 out of a hundred and the student teacher gave me an 81 out of a 100. (this grade got averaged and then divided so it ended up being a 38 out of 100)

    anyway, though, i deserve more than they gave me. we were told that we could go in any direction with this and that is what i did.
    My english teacher told me to "Use some concrete details and examples to support this idea." Doing that would make this sucky. you just can't put stuff like that in it.
    she also that it was important topic but i need to convince them. as for that i went into this knowing that they couldn't understand it all. it is just flat out impossible to understand depression unless you have experienced it.


    lostathome
    Community Member





    Sat Mar 08, 2008 @ 06:13am


    I thought it was good.... this just goes to prove, teachers really are paid off by the tax payers to be idiots.

    Poetry doesn't have to rhyme but they probably wants a "One fish, two fish" style.

    But yeah, I can understand these poems.

    Well done.


    Arishy
    Community Member





    Sun Mar 09, 2008 @ 03:08am


    thanks you very much for saying so!


    7Haseo - I AM MARCUS
    Community Member





    Sat Oct 04, 2008 @ 04:25am


    this poem is good those teachers of yours r really big times jerks


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    We're no better than the masses.

    PS: I killed a few threads in my timeUser Image

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    Arishy
    Community Member





    Sat Oct 04, 2008 @ 04:30am


    yeah. she wanted it more specehy speech.


    User Comments: [5]
     
     
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