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Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Final reading response

Childhood Memories are the kind you will never forget. I have a video tape of me playing my guitar and singing at the top of my lungs different songs with my grandfather. I love watching that.
             But what if your memories are bad? What if your past brought you to a teenage asylum? What if the pain was the only sour remedy or bad medicine that could actually cure? Ellen Hopkins’s Impulse is a book about three teenagers’ hard lives. Tony is one, and he has a hard life. The book talks about his thoughts, cuts, and memories, in his perspective. Conner is another character. He doesn't feel the need to show his emotions/depression, but he thinks that death is his only way out. And Vanessa on the other hand, She is hiding herself in a blade's reflection, blinding the truths from hurried pain.
            Everyday teenagers can relate to the book. I mean, who hasn’t thought they’ve gone crazy? That they’ve completely lost it? No one. I believe we all have felt lost, or alone, at one point. No matter how much people love you, no matter how many of them are around. And these are the basic emotion of these three characters. They think they are in “living hell”. To them, every move is to drown in pain. They have many problems; A very conflictive life.
I’m not saying we all don’t have problems. Because we do. Our problems match our lives, and we all live differently. So we can’t compare them, no matter how “similar” they might sound. The kids in the book aren’t exactly, little kids anymore. They are older. Old enough to know right from wrong. And they know that what they are doing is wrong. But I am not one to judge them. I understand. The author’s purpose feels like it’s to express the essence of life. She makes pain look as the main theme, but from where I see it, it’s life.
I think that the main theme of the book is life because we’ve only got one chance to live, and this is it. We can’t exactly, start over, because it’s not a video game. Although I strongly believe in second chances, being born again isn’t one. And so we’ve got to make our lives worth it. So life just kind of stood out to me.
 Something I noticed from Hopkins’s writing style is that she won’t say things out directly. You have to find the hidden meaning behind her words, play around with them until they make sense. It sounds like something you have to do with Shakespeare, but still with her. For example, I didn’t realize what she meant when Tony talked about “being into” this new girl. I mean, we all assume he likes her right? But no. I misinterpreted what she meant. He doesn’t normally like girls, he’s gay. And things kinda got weird for me to keep reading from that point on. So I had to just go back a few pages to actually understand what I had misunderstood before. Another example comes in with Conner’s story. He tries to act like he can have everything, anything. But he hides so many secrets, and it seems so easy for him to keep them all bottled up. And since he believes everything he sees, he never actually discovers the truth. He thinks he can tell someone’s story just by looking at you for a minute. Like THAT would say anything about me. But he’s trying to seduce his doctors! And one of them… well, kind of gives in! It was confusing at first, because in a way she happened to know what was going on with him. I find this quite ironic. In my opinion it is because of her body language, what she says and wears. Here is the paragraph in the book:
“Her smile grows wider. Oh, I doubt that, Conner. Now, what did you decide about confiding secrets? My eyes lower to the V of her blouse. ‘you have to go first, but I guess I’m ready to play your game.’ Okay. When I was younger than you, but old enough to know right from wrong, I had sex with a teacher too. She knew?”
I kind of smirked at it. And then I thought of questions. But the author  wants to create tension to keep us in focus. And that is a strength in her writing. I really like her writing techniques. They seem simple, but it’s harder than it looks. And I tried to go further in with this book, and tried to capture the purity of what seems like a mistake. Sometimes it seems like there are fragments, but no. it’s just to throw you off. And I really enjoy that.
Impulse combines all times of emotions and themes, and different ways to picture this story. But it still is great no matter what.
Yet, I can describe another example with the last but not least of the characters.
Vanessa’s emotions are deep. Her father is in war while she lives with her grandmother and her brother. And it seems like she can’t really live. It seems to her like she can’t make sense of her life. And so it’s confusing, because she feel a special connection with Tony, and Tony with her, even though he’s gay. This kind of throws of the story and sets a different tone for both characters. All though all 3 are at the same asylum (Aspen Springs), they are different, and this kind of connects them all. This brings them into the story for real.
If there’s anything in common with these three characters, I’d say that they are missing love.  They live with too much solitude, and they close up with others instead of opening up. They lack the will to live, and they need to find themselves. I really love this book- I really don’t know why. I just think it’s phenomenal.
We all have impulses. And ones that I consider being the biggest in this book is to:
Break free. Let Go.
Consider. Continue.
 Death and all that comes with it.
Think before you act.
Love life ♥

I'm still suffering.

I'm still scared. I'm still afraid. I'm still suffering from the pain that seems to have happened a century ago. Wanting to take back my life, the one with no uneasiness- the unease I can't stay away from. I knew this day would come, when I could finally place the last puzzle pieces together. I had them all along. I just didn't know where they needed to go. But now I do. 
I crisscross around your words, taking them in, marveling around them. They're old, but somehow new.I've heard them before, I know they're smart ways, i just hadn't heard them that strong before. That bold. Why? They came along with other words. Ones that were definitely new, and others that we're familiar but not in the way I hoped. I love them. Just as much as I love that music, the one that feeds me something, the only thing that keeps me alive still. As I've said before, half-alive. Many things bring me to tears, but the simpler ones are the one that  manage to keep inside, sobbing. What I love the most are the straight-forward things. No shortcuts, no way out. They're just there, no cutting cones. Only sharp edges. 
Let's go back to that day, that day when no one else was around. No one besides you and me. You were smiling. And I was smiling. we were smiling. Nothing was more important than that to me. But its not that day anymore. So I guess i'm not the only one putting the show on for everyone anymore. You are too. You're not showing everyone what you are actually feeling. You aren't showing ME face to face what you're feeling. I am. I'm here, in your face, telling you everything. There's not one thing about me you don't know. So listen. Please. If6 you have something to say, say it. To me. Now. I don't want to get hurt anymore. Not this way. I'm dying. Yes, silently. Laying down on a table, arms together, hunched over to the side. Legs bent together. Eyes shut tight. I'm still suffering.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

To the Best of My Ability

I want to think thing are fine. Okay, at least. I'm trying to change, to the best of my ability. And you might not believe this, But I really mean Thank you.

Thank you, for real. At a point you were the most important thing in my life. I never expected this to happen, and I think you didn't either. We grow farther apart day after day. I mean it with my heart and soul. It's not empty, it's filled with a heartbreaking cry, and a i want to smile sheepishly. Know that it's safe. It wants to replace the harm. But I know that harm cannot be replaced easily.

I'm here! Look for me, please. I beg you. Just look! It's just hard to look past all those layers of ashes and giant puffs and those fumes of smoke. I'm laying down flat, face down, head buried, eyes closed, half alive. Maybe a little less than half. But you can save me. I can revive.

I want to come back. I can't wait for you to listen to me, to hear what i have to say, all of my mistakes. But you can't stand to see me anymore. I try not to die when I see you look at me. I wish you understood what I mean by Thank you. Thank you for me was and is helping me see the mistakes i'm doing, look at all the cracks I've stepped on. Seeing all the imperfect corrections and liable fragments that have brought me a stair a stair down from what I had considered to be plain and good. Plain. Simple. For all the bad that was done. It's self reflection. Not just written down and on the mirror. Somewhere else. But you've just got to trust me on this one. Once. Just this once. I mean it, please.

I want to return more than anything.
Please believe me.
More than anything.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Just Don't Give Up On Me.

I'm here. You might not see me, though. You're too busy looking for a way to avoid me. I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I know you're looking for me. But... you can't give up on me so easily.

Hey, slow it down. Whataya want from me? Whataya want from me? Yeah, i'm afraid. So whataya want from me? Whataya want from me? There might've been a time when I would give myself away, Oh once upon a time, I didn't give a damn.
 But now, here we are. So whataya want from me? Whataya want from me?
Just don't give up, I'm working it out, Please don't give in, I won't let you down. It messed me up, need a second to breathe. Just keep coming around. Whataya want from me? Whataya want from me? Whataya want from me?
Hey, it's plain to see. That baby you're beautiful, and there's nothing wrong with you. It's me, i'm a freak. But thanks for lovin' me. "cause you're doing it perfectly. Yeah, perfectly.
There might've been a time when i would let you slip away, I wouldn't even try, But I think you could save my life.

Alone isn't what I thought it was.

This chest pain seems to kill me more than I think it does. Most of us don't realize what alone means until we are actually alone. Crying your eyes out in the bathroom, sitting in the tub with your legs out because you are scared of the pain just isn't enough for me anymore. I can't shout, I can't rip my hair out, I can't live. I have no one to explain my life to. No one will listen to my mistakes. I fear everything I see- things that are surrounding me, things that are very far away from me. Its all the same.

I'm not safe.
Who's gonna trust me if I can't trust myself? I wish I could say you. I wish you could make this easier for me. Easier for me to recover. You just make it harder. Night and Day. I wish I could actually get some sleep tonight. I don't want to stay up all night fearing the upcoming day, and thinking that the night will never end. Although, that's my wish. I want things to go back to normal. More than you do. And don't tell me no, because this isn't you in the first place. It's me. Its my turn.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Forgivement starts with me.

I'm sorry. I just don't know who I am. Well, not anymore. Before I can say anything, I have to find what's missing. Before I cry, I have to know the reason behind it. Before I feel sane again, I have tothink all of my mistakes through.

 I have to learn the hard way.

Let me just think about it.

Okay, I missed you. Alot. I had nothing to say, nothing to smile or laugh at. But I saw you everywhere, in my mind, in the chairs, here, there, and in my heart. I went through a day, though. A day with many mixed emotions, but a full 24 hours.

I wish I could say I don't feel like dying now. Because you leaving hurts, but that's not it. Let me just think about it. This pain, the one that's killing me. Because no, it's not you. It's my fault. I avoided before what I feel now in other's eyes, and now I get it back, slowly. By pieces. It's biting. It's killing me. A strong sense of malaise.

But today was diffrent from all the rest. I didn't care. I thought about you and that's all. Nothing else. Because good days don't exist. A day seems is not one if i'm not shedding a tear, leaving redness on my eyes, leaving the tears dry up on my face. It's like slamming into a brick wall with all you forces. It's  like climbing up a mountain and falling, tumbling, bleeding all the way down. No; It's probably worse. How? Because there is no sort of explanation for this.

I feel excluded, ignored, avoided. All I want to give you is my love, my laugh, my smile. But how do I get everything back? How can things go back to what normal was for me? When will my tears dry out fast enough to not be seen anymore?
So many questions without any answers. I'm afraid to ask them-even to myself. Everything seems so alone, scary. It brings back memories of the dark, the pain. The blood. The misery.

No, Thanks.
But if that's what it takes to get it all back, I'll do it. I'd risk it all. Take my life with me. To save you, to save me from myself. But I guess I have to start by saying I'm sorry. It's me. I know. I was never blaming you. I deserved it.