Fantasy Worlds, Chaotic Eloquence, and Banned Books.

When I was younger, I use to write fantasy stories and beautiful poems. Not just the "Oh, woe is me, I'm so sad" type of poetry, but real poetry. The kind that someone who has been writing for their whole life would write. They were my own masterpieces. I hit a point in my life where I stopped living in my poems and the fantasy world I visit only every once in a while; now I have difficulty penning a single poem, and when I do, it's not as good as they use to be. I've lost my eye for rhyme, rhythm, and meter. The three most important parts of writing a poem. I've lost some of my writing style too, it's changed and evolved as I've grown.

The last time I actually "wrote" poetry was my sophomore year when I had Mrs. Dasser*. She set a writing assignment that was to be our final, we had to write a poetry book with fifteen poems and the book would be worth 350 points. So, I dug and found my old journals with my seventh and eight grade poetry in it and I typed them up, added artwork to the pages and stuck it in the sleeve. I did this with about ten of my poems. So, you know me, the overachiever, I decided to sit down and write the other five from scratch. But five turned into ten and then I the before I turned in my book (which I titled Chaotic Eloquence) I wrote another poem, so I stuffed it in the last page that she said to put in there for the grading paper. (Lucky for me, I had an extra sleeve in my bag.)

I laugh looking back on it now, 'cause after she handed our books back to us after they'd been graded, she said this in the most serious of tones and had the most solemn facial expression, "Guys, I've never wanted to kill myself until I read all your poems. It's not that they were bad, no, they were well written, even a some of you have genius writing skills with poetry, it's just your class and every other class with the graduation year 2007 I have is probably the most depressed, suicidal, heartbroken, neglected, and messed up kids I have ever had to read about." I felt bad for her, I'm sure she went on anti-depressants after reading our poems. She refused to do the final as a poetry book the year after us. (Yes, Mamacita, I got a 450/350.) So, needless to say, I passed her final with an A+ and the highest final score from the 10th grade. Her comment on my paper, "You'll be famous". Tell me something someone else hasn't, please.

My literary hang-ups are:
1. I'm either too descriptive or too vague, never am I "Just right".
2. I have either all conversation or none at all. I can't find my happy medium.
3. I tend to bounce from first person to third omnipresent.
4. I over-analyze my own writing.

I digress.

I talk a lot to people when I finally get the chance to talk. And most of the time, the person probably gets tired of hearing me talk, but I just can't help it. Ya know?! I'm just a boring housewife and mother who is living in her "glory days" to stay sane. I love Ami, don't get me wrong, but I get tired of being a mom sometimes, and I just want to throw everything down (Not my son, I'd place him in his walker) and run off and be a kid. Because in essence, I'm still a kid. As a quote I read somewhere once said, "It's never to late to have a happy childhood" maybe I'll get mine some day.

Changing topics.

I was reading an article in the paper about "Early Literacy Programs" and here's my take on that. I laughed. Ha, I was read to as a child (yes, they did read to me, believe it or not) and learned how to read because of that. I owned over 300 Golden Books, all of which I donated to a Kindergarten Teacher when I moved and had no place for them in a trailer as compared to the five bedroom house I lived in for nine years. (Three years in a trailer before that). So, here's my opinion, if parent's would get off their asses high horse and read to their children and help them learn to read at a young age, then there would be no need for an "Early Literacy Program". Take Ami, my son, for example. Already, he's only 6 mos old, and I am reading to him from "Chronicals of Narnia" . I am saving Harry Potter until he can understand them, but I can't wait to read that series to him.



Harry potter is an excellent series. I don't care what these close-minded enthusiasts say about it being 'evil', 'wicked', 'witchcraft' it's not. You're stupid, go jump off a bridge.

Long live the banned books list. I'd be GLAD to be on that list. 'Cause it would mean I was among the greatest writers to have ever lived. A master of my craft, if you must. Like Stephen King, Maya Angelou, Steinback. That's my goal in life, to be on the Banned Books list with the greatest authors that have ever lived. Long live the greats.

I'm done.

The Past Shades, hot baths, and scars

I don't know quite where to begin other than by saying that I wrote most of this while soaking in the tub-writing in my little black journal with my black ballpoint pen. I've been reading a lot lately, not just anything, mind you, but a former educator's blog. She writes so eloquently; I wish I could write as she does. But that's her writing style and this is mine, and that's what separates us writers from one another-our styles. But I get to jump into her brain sift through her thoughts on education, life, and her childhood. I can't help but wonder if I will ever be able to recall the moments in time as she does.



Ha, baths are my time to rejuvenate not only my hygiene but also my mind & "mommy muscles" as I call them; you know, those that you use while lifting your child in and out of his or her swing, bouncy chair, walker, etc...I have great difficulty imagining the Renaissance when baths were a monthly thing and even then the tub wasn't clean unless you were the lucky first one in the tub. I think people take these normal routines for granted.



I sat in the tub tracing the white little lines on my wrists and ankles this bath while I was shaving my legs I couldn't help but think on the days I would frantically come home from school and bust open a razor and take out the three little blades, stuff one in my shoe in a little spot by the laces and then take the other two and hide them strategically for just the right moment when I could drag the blade across my skin and make a bloodly little line. You see, I use to be the girl that the classmates would call "fat" not that I was fat by any means. I was simply 5'2 and weighed 85 pounds my seventh grade year...not that the teachers could tell or anything but I was depressed and anorexic but I wore the baggy shirts and pants that would hide everything. But I couldn't help but wonder what my life would have been like without Prozac. That's the miracle drug that I'm no longer taking because I've been announced "Cured". So it annoyed me the other day when I saw an "Anorexic recovered" on TV. She was only Anorexic for a year. Ana became my only friend for two years-and I didn't think I had a problem. Mia was my next friend (Bulimia). And of course the razor was too, if you want to know, ask. It's the only way you'll get the full story.

Anyways, I don't know where this is going...But I'm going to go to internet-land and pounce among my fanfiction that I enjoy reading.

What the educators had to say about or to me.

SR. YEAR

Thank you for taking my class. Good luck in everything. I know you are more than capable. Be the best you can be.

God bless, [Creative Writing]

The very best to you always. I hope your senior year and new marriage are filled with happiness and blessings. Continue to do your past in all life's avenues.

[read below]

Classical Lit (Myth)

Study Hall

Best wishes,

You're a bright you woman who deserves the best.

[Sr. Comp]

I wish you the best in the future.

Good luck,

[Fros. English]

I'm happy for you,

but sorry you're not going to be here 2nd sem.

You have certainly have been a valuable viola player

& person to have.

Good luck & God Bless.

Love,

[Orchestra Director]

Hope you & baby & family have a wonderful life.
Remember it's the little things in life that matter most.

Best wishes,

Love

[Nurse]

(Nurse)

I wish you well as you take the leap of faith

into all the world has to offer. Continue to pursue

all that you imagined you would. Good luck & God Bless.

[Sr. Speech]

'♫ Music washes from the soul the dust of everyday life.♫'

~ Play On!

Enjoyed having you in class sophomore year.

Best wishes to you in the future!

[Soph. Poetry & Drama]

You are such a sweet

young lady with so much

potential. No matter what

you do, give it your best!

I wish you the best with

your marriage and the birth of your child.

[Success teacher]

It has been a pleasure having you

in my class. You are always extremely

organized and a very hard worker!!

Good luck with the baby-remember,

children are truly a blessing from God.

Keep in touch,

[Econ Teacher]

I can't believe your 4 years are almost up!

There have certainly been a lot of changes

in your life. Good luck as you move into a life

as a mother. Trust your instincts.

Work on a college degree as you can, even if it takes years!

You're bright and I hope you will always shoot for your dreams.

Always,

[HS Counselor]

I have enjoyed getting to know you during your time here

at BNL. I hope that everything goes well for you in the future.

I'll be thinking of you as you enter motherhood.

[Spanish 2 & German 1 & 2 teacher]

(name)...of doom.

Whatever am I going to do without you?!?!?!

I will miss you terribly!!! Keep in touch, I want to know

how you're doing!!!

(You have my e-mail.)

[Soph. Earth Science, Jr. Astronomy & Meteorology]

You are a special young lady who deserves the best.

Remember how smart you are (confidence, girl, confidence!)

and nothing will seem impossible! Keep in touch!

XOXOXO

[Frosh. Study Hall, Soph. English, Sr. Study Hall]

Good luck,

Take care,

[Secretary]

Thanks for remembering me. You look great. Have a great life--

be happy. Good to see you!

[Retired freshman english teacher]

Good luck. I hope you have a wonderful life!!

You did it!!!!

[Computer lady]

I am so proud of you! Being able to prevail in

tough times is a sign of a leader. Don't stop here!

Be successful! You are a special person meant to

be something, more than you know! I will miss you,

Keep in touch,

Love you,

[Female principal]

Good luck with all of your future plans!

Best wishes!

[Algebra 2 teacher].

8TH GRADE-

I will miss you so very much! You have

been very special to me. Take care of yourself,

& best of luck in high school! Good luck!

[7th Grade English Teach]

P.S. Keep Writing!

Best wishes during your "4" high school

years and beyond. Dream big, Work hard,

write on!

[PE & Success Teacher]

It has been a pleasure having you in class!

Work hard next year, stay on top of your work &

you'll do GREAT. Keep in touch!

[8th Grade Pre-Al Teach]

Best wishes for all you decide to do.

Keep smiling and work hard-I know you will

go far.

[The IEP Teacher who I knew from Church]

Best Wishes @ [HS] & in life after your school years!

Be good!!!

[6th & 7th grade Math teacher]

My goofy violaist. That word even looks weird. I guess it's your

destiny! I enjoyed your playing and getting to know you. Keep

up the good work & I can't wait to see where you'll be in 4 years!

Love,

[Orchestra teacher]

There are those few one never forgets...

[Mamacita]

It has been wonderful having you in class & working

with you on Academic Team. I'll miss you and your smiling

face next year! Have a wonderful summer & great 4 years at [HS]!

[Home Ec Teacher]

It's been great getting to know you these

past two years. You are a wonderful writer

and I hope you stick to it. Good luck at [HS].

We'll miss you.

[Teacher's aid]

Wow! What talent!

Keep drawing! Enjoy your

summers, do your best at [HS].

Keep in touch.

Love,

[Art teacher]

Hang on to those dreams.

[Principal]

It has been great getting to know you here

at {school in middle of boonies}. Good luck at the

high school.

[6th & 7th grade Science Teacher & BBall Coach]

It's been fun! Hope you have a wonderful 4 years at [HS]

I will miss you!

[Computer Lab Lady]

You're a wonderful person I've enjoyed teaching this year.

Have a great summer and good luck in high school.

[8th grade science teacher]

Congratulations on finishing 8th grade at {school}!

I wish you the VERY BEST at {hs} next year.

Continue to work as hard in high school as you did in the 4th grade!

[School District Super]

Prov 3:5-6

I wish you the best at [HS]! I know you will enjoy it and do great things!

Make sure to say hi if you see me this summer.

[Cheer coach]

P.S. (Left handed people are special!)

Thanks for being such a wonderful young lady!

I really appreciate all of your Saturday and after school

work on the yearbook, etc...Thanks for being 3rd in English at the

Academic bowl!

[Geography Teacher]

Good luck always.

Don't forget Santa!

[8th grade History]

------------------

So, now you know what people say about me.

I do hope I haven't let them all down.

I'm going to do all the things they told me to do.

I just want to be happy myself.

And maybe someday I will do all the things I want to do.

So, if you read this and you are one fo them,

Thank you.

You have all pushed me to succeed in all the things I set out on.

Without those that had faith in me, I doubt I would've gotten very far.

So, thank you.

Anyone out there? Well, hello come again soon.

So, my son is six months old today. Well, he turned six months old at 8:50 in the morning. It's insane to really think about. They really do indeed, grow up right before our eyes. Lately he's been trying to crawl and prematurely talk. He's going to be a jabberbox. Ha, yesterday he was looking at me while we were playing in the floor and he kept going "Gek gek" (say it with a considerable amount of flem). It was too cute. I asked him if he was calling mommy a geek. (Which he probably was.) He's such an amazing person. Right now he's blowing bubbles at me, and screaming at me while animately moving his arms as though he's telling me a grand story about something he had a dream about.

I am going to go hang out with my little man. You all have a pleasant day, if you're out there.

WTF is wrong with people?!

I was watching Nancy Grace last night. It pissed me off. I am not putting a strikethrough in that. Forget it. I'm just seriously disturbed by people in my generation. They treat sex like it's a sport. This story pissed me off more than anything on the show last night. In case you don't click there-it's a story about how a Pennsylvanian College athlete gave birth to a baby girl (to term) and claimed that she didn't know she was pregnant. She's skinny! I was skinny! I knew I was pregnant. Wouldn't you wonder why you weren't having periods? Or why you get kicked in the ribs, or have to go piss every five minutes?!

She also claimed that she didn't know she was in labor until she saw the baby's foot...which HAS to be a load of bull-s**t. I mean, trust me, YOU KNOW when you're in labor. You feel it. It's a gut wrenching feeling that affects how you walk, it also affects so many more parts of your body. When your water breaks, you KNOW something is up. Or maybe she's just stupid and was too immature to deal with a baby-I know that's what it seems like.

Which is why I hate my generation. They get pregnant, and then choose abortion, or just kill the baby by shaking, choking, suffocating it after it's born. There have been so many cases of that lately-and each time I hear about it, it just enrages me to the point of where I want to meet these individuals and kill them with my bare hands, however they killed their babies.

Children are GIFTS. This is a picture of me when I was pregnant, mind you, I'm 5'4" and weighed 125 lbs when I got pregnant. This is me a few hours before the water broke and I was approximately 135 lbs here...So, how she could "Not know" she was pregnant is beyond me. I think you get bigger when you're skinny.

Trust me.


I hope she goes to PRISON for LIFE. I hope that she realizes that she killed the future. She killed a part of her. If she saw it as just an object, then she's messed up in the head and should be locked in a mental institution. I despise baby killers. I think they're worse than a person who kills 5 women who are over the age of 18.


Yes, baby killers are definately the worse out of all serial killers, cannibals, or just murderers. They are the plague of the society.

The sad part, they do it without a guilty conscious. They do it without a soul. They're the same generation as I am. I think I was born in the wrong generation.

Graphic.

Dreams, school, and teachers oh my.

I had a dream about High School last night. It was quite frightening really, you see, I graduated mid-term from that hell-hole educational institution. I'm not going to share the dream, but I really would've been glad if that never would've happened. I hate dreaming about that place. I wiped my hands of it December 2006.

*SIGH*

I feel as though I'm stagnate. It's a horrible feeling. But alas, I am to start schooling in January-maybe then I'll feel as though I am progressing after that time.

I think that the biggest problem in my life at the moment is the fact that I am a student. That's how I define myself. Because I love learning, I love reading, and most of all, I love gaining knowledge, whether it be about people, places, things, ideas, suggestions, theories, anything really, as long as I can learn. Different writing styles attract me. When I was seven, I read the dictionary for fun. So every once in a while, I bust out a word that I remember reading and it stuns other people for the simple fact that I use big words occasionally. I love spelling. LOVE IT!!!

Occasionally, I find myself pondering about childhood. What would have happened if my childhood would have been different? Would I be the same person I am today, I doubt it. No, I wouldn't I would have been a completely different person.

One of the most important times of a person’s life was childhood. The manner in which a child grows up affects him or her for the rest of their lives. Parents imprint a child from a young age with the way they discipline and raise them or the lack thereof. They can mold a child into becoming a well grounded and good adult or they can turn them into a hateful bitch or bastard being. I would have liked to say that my parents were kind people to me and that we were the closest family ever, but I would be lying. And lately I have taken to telling the complete and utter truth no matter how it degrades someone or offends. We have freedom of speech for a reason so what better way to exercise it than with the truth.

Other people raised me in all reality. My parents both worked jobs that disabled them from spending too much time with me and when they were home my father was watching NASCAR and my mother was doing housework while I stayed in my bedroom reading, or my downstairs playroom playing with my dolls or Super Nintendo. Or, I was outside pretending my swing set was a far away castle and while I was sitting on the monkey bars I pretended that I was a princess and I was waiting for that knight in shining armor to come across the moat and save me from the horrible fire-breathing dragon. Being a typical girl on that account, but really, in all reality-I was a tomboy and I preferred playing in the mud and dirt and riding my bike down the trails in the woods in our addition, or going to the cemetery and reading the headstones (quite a morbid little kid, wasn't I?).

When I started school I began as a student of Head-Start. Margaret Staggs (no relation) was my bus driver. She was a kind old lady and a funny lady. She would drive around until I was the last student on the bus so my parents would be home by the time she dropped me off. Of course, I was five and had a key to the house so I would say that the car was in the garage (which if any vehicle could fit in our old garage, it would have been a miracle with all the wood projects that I did with my father when he did have free time) and unlock the door and go in by myself fix a bowl of cereal and sit in front of the TV and watch WB4 Cartoons. Gargoyles was my favorite. That and WishBone. I learned most of the greatest pieces of literature from WishBone. Romeo & Juliet, The Case of the Baskerville Hounds, Rumplestiltskin. God, the list goes on. But most of the time, I would go to my Grandmother's house.

Did you ever get wipped with a rosebush stem? Hurts like hell. Of course, back in the day, it wasn't child abuse to get wipped with a switch of the plant that an elder told you to go pick yourself, and if you choose the one that you thought would hurt the least you'd have to go get a different branch. I think sometimes that she's the one that put me in line when I was acting out. The one time my father wipped me I took my little chair and smashed it over his back. Come to think of it, I've never done well with discipline. I always felt if you hit me, you're gonna get hit back. No matter who you are. I guess that's my problem. I follow the Golden Rule a little too closely. I digress.

I've had countless babysitters (one of which was abusive & I stopped seeing them after my Great Aunt gave them the what-for. Which is unlike her seeing as how she's a good Southern Baptist lady.) But my teachers are the ones that raised me. Let me explain. I would go to school from 8-3. Then my bus ride in my younger days would last 40 minutes. I'd get home, and be by myself until about 5 or 6. Sometimes 7 when my mother began working nights she would be home for 10 minutes, tell me what to tell dad to fix for dinner (the only thing that man could make was fried taters and chicken I had to make the mac & cheese and asparagus.) And then be on her way, and then dad would get home at fix dinner at 7:30. I would do my homework, and go to bed. Get up the next morning and do it all over again.

In sixth grade I was in quite a state. I hadn't been eating for a year, and was depressed, cutting, and just plain suicidal. I had the most amazing teacher who forced me to sit in her classroom during lunchtime just to assure that I ate and would accompany me to the bathroom so I wouldn't throw up. She knew about my dirty little secret and watched me to make sure I wasn't a lost cause, because she, like most of the educators I've had told me I had this potential that she wanted to see used for the greater good and not by destroying myself. I quit my habits to please her. She made me try out for basketball and my teammates treated me like crap. But I enjoyed defensive playing in Basketball, and I was good at it. We were undeafeated that year.

I moved mid-semester. To a little hill-jack school by a cemetery and field. A mile off of the highway. I lived in the boonies, got on the bus at 6:45 every morning and kept myself after school until 5 pm so I wouldn't have to ride the bus. I did this all three years of Middle School. Avoided going home. Hung out with other kids, enjoyed life for once. My coaches saw me more than my parents. I loved it.

High School wasn't much different. I hung out with people after school my freshman year. (Older kids, who drove.) Then I joined Marching Band and hung out with all the Band Geeks, Guard Freaks (I was a Guardie). And that consumed my life for the next two years. Senior year I left home. Got married, had a kid, graduated.

So, I raised myself and the teachers helped me. They all were supportive. Minus a few...no real names given, but Senora I'm-too-good-to-answer-your-question and Mrs. was-your-absence-excused...

However, back to life. My child is crying. He's murmuring Mumumumum. Which means "Mum." Love that little boy. Toodles.

A Figurative Explanation

I hate runny noses. They annoy the crap out of me. I suddenly had this short thing pop into my head and I suddenly felt cacothes scribendi, or the insatiable urge to write (I do hope I got that right). In case I ever forget to mention it, I love languages. While I am only barely fluent in English, I know British terms, some German, a little Spanish, a tad bit of Latin, a little Italian, and I am in the process of figuring out French. I love diversity...anyways, on with the thingy.

----------------------------

The light was shining through the trees, sprinkling the forest floor with shards of bright spots. I was walking through the dense forest in search of the road that I had heard of, the one that brought all beings closer to enlightenment. It was said that the road was a forked one, and one of the paths was dirt while the other was merely grass that had been trodden upon many times. I knew to take neither path, but instead go straight through the middle. Where I had also heard that by taking neither path you reach enlightenment through your own experiences.

When I approached the fork, I found that upon examination of it, there was truly the two paths that I had been told about. Sighing, I decided to go ahead and walk on the path that didn't exist. This is where my journey truly begins.

-------------------------

So, in all reality that was a figurative way to put the choices I've made in my life. Never taking the exact path. I've always travelled the road without a map, without markings, the road that I follow is the one I make. And I love it. The mere spontaneity. Oh the joys, lessons, and sadness I have discovered all on my own. And I wouldn't change a thing.

I hate autumn, the justice system, and misspellings.

I am currently in the middle of a sneezing fit. I'm one of those people that sneeze with their head. You know, the forward, back then a bunch of snot. So I've mastered the holding of the nose so snot doesn't fly everywhere.

I hate the fall. Ironic isn't it? I'm named after it but I hate the fall time. The weather, although when it's later at night and the air feels so crisp, I like that. However, I'm allergic to leaves-that is why I'm in the middle of the sneezing fit.

I just took a sudafed-hopefully it works.

I'm watching Nancy Grace. That woman is the epitamy of know-it-alls. She could be Hermione Granger. I digress, they are running the story of OJ Simpson how they're finally getting him for the murder of his wife, err, ex-wife, whatever she was. It's horrible how the justice system works. Oh no, I feel a rant about the justice system coming up. So, here it goes. I know in my earlier post I was ranting about probation but here's another one. It's amazing how far, in all reality that forensics can go to solve the once unsolvable murders. Which is for a part, why I like science, but the thing that really irks me is the fact that murderers can get away with their crimes because they have some sort of super-lawyer and it takes a breaking and entering charge to finally catch them. I still believe that the Zodiac killer is going to get away with his crime until he's on his death bed and then he'll proceed to ask his grandson or granddaughter or someone of the sort to lean over and that's when he'll admit it. He'll say "I am the Zodiac Killer. I'm sorry." To his family and then die. Leaving the victims' families with their grief. Yep, that's how it'll work. And you can't be charged for murder again, it's double jeopardy. So, OJ will undoubtably get out of prison for good behavior-actually, he'll probably be made someone's bitch butt buddy slave-and die in prison.

Enough, I'm tired of the topic already.

So, I'm suppose to go to college in the Spring for nursing...but I feel there are so many other fields I would be comfortable or interested in. Music, Medical, Science, Literary. Yes, I would love those careers. If I had only applied myself in High School I could honestly make it into Med School. Hell, I know I'm brilliant I just choose not to be a geek because not many geeks have friends and they end up used for the money they earn. On the upside however, in College if I apply myself and get a career in one of those interests I can always go back to school later on in life and pursue my other interests. I want to be a professional student. That's the career I would love. To never stop learning. I would be like Dorian Grey in that sense. He was a professional student.

Students-ah, I was watching one of my college friends do her writing assignment and she can't spell worth a flying flip! She spelled Hospice: Hospise. College was spelled Collage. There were several other spelling errors and I would have taken a red pen out and corrected them all if she would've let me so she would have little to do with spell check when she went to type it. Spelling errors annoy me, tell me when I misspell, please. I beg of you.

I digress. I can't wait for winter. The sparkling snow. Oh, glorious snow.

Until then my loves.

just me.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

A Little Help from My Friends.

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Lucian Amadeus (three photos)

Me, my son, & my husband

Lil Ami & His cousin..

This was by lil' man the day I took him home from the hospital, he's gotten considerably bigger, eh?

Someday I'll make it to the rest.

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Writer's Block Personified.

Have you ever read anything that touched your soul-it made you shiver when you read it? How about the lines on a paper that you couldn't get out of your head even after you were finished with it?

Lately I've taken to writing once more, and I have found that I can truly explain things how I have always wanted to, I've discovered that words are easy again and sentences make sense and I'm not hiting the backspace key anymore. When you write something without a backspace key you're freewriting. And lately I've been doing just that. Details have come to surface, I can now describe to you how the invisible wind swoops down over the yellow grass and picks up the dry earth that's just barely holding the grass in place and sweeps it across the yard while I'm walking to get the mail, the remnants of grass crinkling beneath my feet.

I LOVE WRITING ONCE MORE. To think it took a role-playing game to get my writer's block knocked away-but I've done it.

There was once a time when I could compose a poem as fast as a swish of a branch in the wind, but I'm still not to that point yet-although I can write paragraphs and short stories now I am still not to the poetry; the rhyme, rhythm and meter just aren't ready to surface. But slowly, yes slowly I feel myself getting back to that point.

So, if you have the talent to write, never stop. Don't quit writing your ideas down no matter how ridiculous they sound or how pathetic any educator makes you feel. Don't listen to society when they tell you you're doing it wrong. Only you know how to write in your own unique style no one else can cater to that. So, keep it up. Just keep writing.

Take it from me, writer's block is a bitch very evil woman. And she doesn't want to leave when she sits down at the table and holds the pen in her hand and tells you to dictate it to her. Forget it. You won't be able to leave her sitting there and stand up. Or, maybe like me, you can fool her and get up and write the book you've been talking about writing.

Well, anyways, I do hope you all have a wonderful day.

I love you all.

-Autumn Faith

Why, yes, I think I do have anger problems, amongst other things.

*Laughs lightly*

"Do you think you have anger problems?" The person behind the desk asked me a while back. I stared at her in disbelief. In my head, I was thinking a variety of things-most of them being how ridiculous it was that I was even there in the first place. But moreover the fact that I was sitting there while pregnant and married. The place in question, the Probation offices.

"No. I don't think I have anger problems, but you can only take so much and swallow it for so long before it's going to surface." Came my response. Not what I wanted to say, but it would do.

So, I hit my mother. I know, you can't just hit people and get away with it. But looking back at the events leading up to the confrontation, I find it liberating almost that I did hit her. They tried their best to raise me, albeit not doing the best in my opinion. (For that's another story). But they tried. Damn, where do I begin with this rant? So many places which to plant my feet and shoot the gun and take off running like a cross country runner.

Agression is an interesting topic really, the thought that someone can swallow so much for so long and then like a tumultuous storm it finally adds up to the point where you can't contain it within you anymore and you need an outlet and the first person that crosses you makes you so angry that you just want to hit them and not stop...that's agression and I'm going to stop there because my voice in my head is getting faster and louder than I dare to type.

I played sports to get away.

I joined the geeky clubs to get away.

I looked up to teachers because they all in a way were positive role models. Thank you school system, you raised me well. Even passed on that "Zero tolerance" only it's the other way for me. I take zero tolerance of being pushed around anymore.

I have to go to counseling again for the upteenth thousandth time in my life. Mainly because the court orders it. *LAUGH* I went to counseling for almost three years and the only thing it did was make me want to pursue a career in counseling so I can sit behind the clipboard and truly say "I know what you're going through" and really mean it.

The following reasons are why I should just be a counselor:

1. I helped myself in the end.
2. I watched a best friend die in a car accident at age 7.
3. I was raped by my first sexual relationship with an asshole who should have his penis cut off and fed to him on a platter. Enough about that dickhead.
4. I cut myself because the emotional pain I swallowed for so long hurt.
5. I starved myself first.
6. I became bulimic in the seventh grade cause I wanted to eat.
7. I tried to kill myself with pills-it didn't work and now I have to take what seems like eight 800 mg ibuprofen just to kill a headache.
8. I got pregnant my senior year of High School
9. I've lost friends.
10. I've had battery charges pressed on me.
11. I got married 11 days after my 18th birthday.
12. I graduated High School.
13. I can say "How does that make you feel" and mean it.
14. I am an empath.

So, in all reality. Going to counseling because the court ordered it-won't help a thing. If anything, it'll make me want to strangle my counselor because they have no idea how I feel.

Sorry for the rant. But enjoy it. Or else.

Poison.

No, the title has nothing to do with the post. I swear.

--------------------------------------------------------

I was watching Patch Adams for the second time today, and the guy who was dying of Pancreatic cancer just keeps plaguing my mind. I imagine that tiny organ attached to the colon when I hear of the Pancreas. And it kills me because I've been reading an anatomy book finding out just what exactly it does. If you want to know, look it up. Knowledge is great, my friends.

But I digress.

Pancreatic cancer has a very high death rate. Meaning that if you have it or get it, the chances of your survival are slim. Apparantly it's also very painful for the most part. Sometimes I guess you are incapable of eating-I couldn't imagine, well, I could, but not being able to choose to eat-just not being able to, that would hurt.

During my Junior year of High School I took Chem 1. A year after most of my classmates had take it. I was considered an unfortunate soul because I had the teacher that everyone always said they wished she would die, or that she's a bitch, or other harmful things-poison in their words if you must. Mrs. Smith, for the record, was a very intelligent woman and expected us to be intelligent she wanted us to use our brains, not let them go to waste. Which is something I understand now.

One day after school in September I decided to stay after school and ask for help before the Marching Band rehearsal. I talked to this woman, the one who, on occasion, got on my nerves. But I learned a lot from her during this after-school session. Such as she had once been a college professor-hince her high expectations. And she too, had been in Marching Band, she played the Clarinet. But I also discovered that she was a nice woman, person, and human being. She just had a hard shell on the outside that you had to crack.

She shared wise words that I now will never forget as long as I live. She otld me that there will be some things in life that I will encounter and at first, not be able to solve. But that if I step back and check things out and really examine them closer and don't fret over the fine details I might find an easy answer.

At the time, I wasn't sure what that had to do with Chemistry-until later on in the year. When answers began being common sense to me. But starting around December she began missing a lot of school and we had subs for a few months straight. I found out when I asked Mr. Bailey about it, he told me that she had Pancreatic Cancer. I was shocked, and yet at the same time, I was hoping that there was hope for her, so I asked him what stage, and he said the fourth. If you know cancer stages you know that the fourth is right by the last stage-the fifth-and recovery at the fourth stage is rare-she was going to die. And I knew this. Not a lot of students found out until May though.

So, from December to May I listened to my classmates diss her, and I stood up for the absent teacher. I couldn't believe how cruel my classmates and other students were. I was ridiculed because I stood up for her. But I just told them that they didn't understand and they'd eat their words at a later date.

Mrs. Smith took the Envirothon team to their competition that year. She was back for two or three days and she excused those of us in her Chem classes from the lab that she held that day. But on the lab that we had had a few days before she was proud to tell me that I got a perfect lab score. AND that I had received a ninety six on the last test. She told me that she was proud of me.

When she graded my final Chem problem she told me that it was excellent that I had paid attention to the easy things and not skidded to a halt as so many of my classmates. There was an easy answer. Her words suddenly made sense about the different views.

The last time I saw Mrs. Darla Smith was in August, right before the start of my Senior year. I had told her that I was pregnant and was getting married. She told Shane & I that she hoped our lives were full of love, joy, and many good years. I think she knew she didn't have that much time left, she was looking forward to teaching as much as she could before she died. It was her passion, helping and teaching the students that so rudely commented behind her back about how mean she was when in all reality they didn't know her.

She was the only High School teacher that I had had as an educator that didn't get to sign my Sr. Book. I hate that she didn't get to, and I often wonder what she would've written given the opportunity. I had written her a letter the first time she was in the Hospital, but I never sent it. I wish now that I would've...god I wish I would've.

So, I guess my point here is that I heard on December 4th, 2006 that she had died that day. Everyone else just walked around not really knowing quite yet. I was a mess. She was a person and everyone (students) just acted like she never existed. I hope that when she left her suffering it was painless, that she went in her sleep. Because I believe that she was a fighter and she was a champion in the fact that she never let it show that it was getting to her that she was dying. She embraced her life that she lived before she died.

I want to live like that. I want to live so that when I die I can say I truly did everything that I wanted to. That I was an inspiration without knowing it. I want to live to the fullest and be joyful up until my last breath.

If you have a letter you have written and never sent, send it. There might now be a later for you to send it in.

The things movies make you think of.

For the Friends.

Another soul forgotten
another story never heard
no one seemed to notice
no one seemed to hear a word...

This is reality
another failed attempt
your life is worth living
if you just help a friend
no one ever spoke out
when she was screaming
words have become meaningless
promises can't seem to find the verb.

this is a reality another failed attempt
your life can be worth living
if you just help a friend.

No one seemed to notice
when tears fell down from her eyes
no one seemed to reach out
when she bowed her head...

This is my reality
I've had another failed attempt
All I was screaming for was a friend,
someone who could reach out and take my hand.

The Things I meant but Never Said.

Here’s the Things I Meant but I Never Said

At any one moment there are a million things running through ever single mind. However, only a few of those things actually make it form though to speech, and even fewer are actually said to another person. Why, you ask? Because we’re scared. We’re afraid that we’ll be rejected if we say what we really think, and humans can’t stand the though of rejection.

Sometimes we get rejected on too many times and all our thoughts and emotions come pouring out. But we get over it, and turn back into our normal bottled up selves. Well I’m sick of it! We need to stand up and say what we feel.

So I’m going to. I’m going to say what we all want to say. This is for every little girl that never fought back on the playground. For every boy who was too scared to tell a girl how he felt. For every office worker who was to afraid to stand up to their boss. This is for every person who was ever too afraid to say what they feel. I’m going to say what I feel, what I think.

I feel happy. I feel sad. Sometimes I feel like the walls are closing in and I can’t breathe. I get scared just like everyone else. I’m a horrible person. I lie and cheat and steal. I lie about things I have no reason to lie about. I make fun of people for no reason at all. I’m a saint. I volunteer at a soup kitchen and it makes me feel good. I tutor little kids that think I’m great. I have a fan club and they make my day. They think I’m perfect. I try to be perfect, but really I’m far from it.

I say I hate things when I secretly love them. I say things I don’t mean, and they hurt people. I want to hurt people sometimes. I hate people who are mean, but I’m mean too.

It hurts when people think I’m not good enough. It hurts when they ignore me. As much as I don’t want it to, it hurts every time they forget about me. And I hate myself for it. I hate them more though. I hate them for making me feel worthless. As if I can be replaced so easily.

I’d like to think I can’t be replaced. I’m one of a kind, just like everyone else. I’m the polar opposite of myself. I’m a liar. I try to be good. I’m mean. I stand up for people who won’t stand up for themselves. But you probably don’t care about me. I’m just a one of a kind, utterly replaceable girl, who’s trying to change the world. I know one person can’t change the world, but I’m making a dent, one voice at a time. So do your part. Say what you think. Say what you feel. Make a dent, change the world.

Warmth.

This is the beginning portion of the book I am in the process of writing.
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The crystal blue of the sea stretched out before her fingertips, reaching for the pristine nature of this place, she reached out into nothing. The scene faded and she found herself in total darkness. Just hte crashing of waves on the rocks for a slight moment, then nothing. Silence envelopes her. Silence. She always hated silence. Darkness is the very envelope that holds the very persona of her being. Life has gotten her down so many times, yet like the lioness she is, she's not going to take it sitting down. She doesn't plan on being told what to do. She plans on taking her life the opposite direction of those before her. A small speck of light shines through the dark & silence, she knew once the warmth from the stream of light, and yearns for it. The puzzle that is her life, is like broken pieces of colored glass, she just needs to put the final piece in the grand design. Those little shards of broken glass that have been broken over neglect for seventeen years can be replaced with a marvelous stained glass window. One which will allow for the inner light to warm even the coldest of days. Even if it's the hollow shell she's built herself, she will find warmth in the slightest touch. She can use the inner light if everything falls apart. The lonely candle in the wind falters a little, but stays lit, as saying "it's okay child, you can make it" She just wants to feel freedom and be loved by the person she has loved for the past three months. She wants her chance in the sun. She is me. I am her, reaching out, touching the beam of warm light on the shattered glass, trying not to get cut while making a masterpiece, while staring to the green eyes which hold the key to my freedom.


My Husband & I

Beautiful. Ramblings from last April.

Something I have come to realize this past week is that we are all beautiful. Through all of our imperfections, we are all beautiful. Everything about us is beautiful. From our imperfections, to our talents, we have this amazing talent to be a beautiful being-inside and out-and we should consider ourselves lucky to have the things we have right now, because someone totally the same as us, doesn't have the things we have somewhere, it's guaranteed. I promise you. And when we are old, and crippled, people should want to come and visit us, because we have this wisdom that no one can quite comprehend-that's beautiful-Senior Citizens are beautiful. Orphans have no one but the people around them and other Orphans-they are beautiful because people should care enough to spend time with them, by doing things with them that they might not get the chance to do otherwise. Blind kids, handicapped kids, those with Mental problems, they are beautiful because they appreciate the little things, like a butterfly or raindrop. EVERYONE is beautiful. You just have to look below the surface-dig a little deeper. Trust me.

Love you guys,
Autumn Faith

A Letter I composed for a friend a while back.

Dear Friend (i wonder sometimes, can i still say that?),

You know who you are. And so does anyone else that knows how much I adore you and hold in in high esteem. You probably won't even read this. But I recommend you do.

i don't know what's going on in your life anymore, so i can't pray for you about it. i just hope that asking for god to give you the strength is enough. is it enough?

I just wanted to say that it hurts that we have gone our separate ways. i've realized that you were the closest thing to a sister i'll ever receive-but you don't need a sister, you already have one. you don't need a friend, because you have plenty.

so maybe this is for the best, just know that i hurt so bad right now cause i know that we're not strong enough for each other anymore. and i miss your warmth and friendship...it hurts to have you stand right there sometimes and not say anything, not sharing a laugh, a tear, or a word other then "hey" and "bye" or "what song are we singing?"

know that i can't let anyone in (a female) to be as close as you allowed me to be to you-i can't tell anyone (that is a female friend) half the things we shared together.

but thank you for the good times, cause i'll still think of you as a sister-even if we aren't.

i'm just going to miss you is all, (and i hope that you like your wonderful candle...:])

and just because you aren't in high school anymore doesn't mean that you're too mature for me, (it doesn't mean that "old" people things are "old" people things, cause i'll be 18 in 52 days...and i realize my life is changing..) it just means work is a priority to you now. it doesn't mean you have to forget me, but i understand why you don't want to have me too close-but just know that i will always have a place for you in my heart.

thank you for the good times, kid.

autumn faith

Influences.

Influences (Friends & Teachers)
When I was younger I always wondered if anyone was influenced by me, and my goal was to leave a legacy behind. Well, I don't want to leave anything behind but I want to leave a mark on everyone I meet, and by doing so, I know that a part of me will continue on-it's an amazing thing to smile to someone who needs it and then a few years later hear about that person doing something kind to another person and mention that they became not to shy because of a simple smile.

I'm currently reading a book by Oscar Wilde called The Picture of Dorian Gray and I love everything about it. It talks about how art is music and how music is expression, and expression is life and how without art and music our lives would be nothing, it also speaks about influences and leaving a part of you behind in the things you do and how those things live on for a long time and how beauty is appreciated by simply existing. How the secret to life is finding beauty in everything. And It got me thinking today-about all the people that have came into and out of my life since i was born. But most of all, it got me thinking about an area in my life from fifth grade to the present date.

In fifth grade, i didn't smile and I hated everyone. Everyone except a few friends-but there was a teacher who told me that I'd be beautiful if I smiled. And all year long she tried to get me to give a genuine smile. I wouldn't do it, I thought I couldn't do it. How could I be beautiful by simply smiling? I give her credit because she taught me something that I can't quite explain to you-her name was Mrs. Charmaine Roxanne Glassco. And I love her so much. She'd seen me since I was little and knew that I was capable of smiling because I did it in church-I passed fifth grade and she told me to stop in and see her every once in a while and to smile-cause it made her day better, more about her in a minute.

In sixth grade-the beginning of it-I didn't want to live. I hated myself and I think it's because bullying all my life. I had a group of friends who pressed me with their problems and seldom did I get a word in edge-wise. My teacher was Mrs. Kimberly Sue Wheeler-and god, I love that lady. My bus ran an alternate route that winter before i moved and she drove me home about 6 times. I learned a lot from this wonderful person whom I still visit occasionally and she brings me home when i visit her...I love her to death. She has a son who has down-syndrome and still she smiles and laughs and loves life-she's worked so hard and she loves kids. She gave me a present for christmas and told me if I ever needed anything I knew where to find her-more on Kim in a minute.

So, I moved to the hill-jack school in the middle of nowhere-and this was a turning point. The teachers I can list off that impacted me here-it's amazing...even a principal that no one liked-so I shall begin. The first day I met a girl-and she knows who she is. I loved laughing with her, watching british movies, eating chocolate chip cookie dough, playing the sims, writing, drinking big red, her teaching me the correct way to belch (which i still haven't mastered...). But she taught me that simple moments are the ones you'll miss in the years to come...more about her in a minute.

Ms. H-god, this lady is remarkable. She's such an amazing person that I can't say enough about-she taught me to never give up no matter how hard it is that if we set our minds to it-we can do anything. LIterature is a perfect expression of our souls-we can do anything as long as we use the correct words...and her favorite phrase was "Carpe diem." Which means, "Seize the day" how amazingly true. Enough about her-

Mamacita-was hilarious. She taught me we never have to really grow up and we should be ourselves above all. Variety is the spice of life...this lady had a rubber chicken above her head for christs sake...and she was a little unorthodox-but we all love her-that's just a random bit right there...i'm absolutely finished with her...

Now, I'm in High School and I met this girl my freshman year who is absolutely AMAZING. a little odd, but i still love her...you can read about her on my main profile...she's taught me so much and keeps teaching me more every day. She's my adopted sister, and her family pretty much claims me too...

Mr. B is my hero. He's the first male teacher I've ever gotten along with and he's so funny-god, I can't say enough about him, but he's influenced me that it's okay to be yourself and no one else can take that away as long as you search for something you love, "the truth is out there" and he calls me Peril...I'm insane-he's crazy. He's awesome, I just can't explain how much this man deserves to be nominated teacher of the year or something...he loves teaching-and he loves inspiring students to be their best no matter what.

I met a person my sophomore year in the Color Guard, and she's one of a kind. Laughs at everything-makes jokes, sings, is a family girl-and is a neat person. She made me not afraid to be myself. She acts like she doesn't care what people think and that's totally awesome. Enough has been said about her and I wish we could talk more and hang out again, but we both have lives and she knows how much she's influenced me and I know how I've influenced her-we've written this out.

Lately, I've been talking to a Mrs. Coats-and I find that this woman is absolutely amazing. She's just a great lady and I talk to her every single day-and she's I just can't explain. She is influencing me so much and making a difference in my life so much-I wish I could begin to describe-but I can't cause it's still in progress, maybe when all is said and done I'll explain it.

Mrs. Storms is new to BNL, and she's a principal. From the moment I met her I knew I would love her to death. And I do. She's such a sweet woman and she's wise and makes me have a good day when she sees me she says "hey sweetie, how're things going?" and I love that. She told me the moment we met she knew she would like me-I don't know how-but more later.
Last but not least, (oh no, train of thought de-railed...) haha...OH! Yeah...Last but not least, Mrs. Jeanne Brown. She was my first orchestra teacher. This woman-god, I love her. She believed that when I asked her if I could play a viola that I would be something great with it. She told me to keep playing and maybe someday I'd see her again-She retired when I was in the 7th grade-but the last time I saw her was at a contest-and she told me that I was something special to her-that I would be the student she remembers most of all-unfortunately, I'm not first chair anymore and I feel like I've let her down and she's not even around here anymore-but it's just that she taught me about music and how it's a passion and it consumes you and becomes your soul-I live by this and everytime I pick up my viola and bow i think of her. And though I want to quit-I can't because it would be quitting my passion.

Now, to explain things-I'm almost 5 months pregnant, and I've got a lot of time to read and think and laugh and write. and I love this time. The book I'm reading is currently in the talking about influences on people.

I visited Mrs. Glassco last time I was at Oolitic, and she told me she missed me and was glad to see me smile. She also seemed flabbergassed that I was a senior-she feels old now. Haha* Poor Roxanne.

I invited Kim to my reception (sorry I didn't get to invite everyone! I kept forgetting to send my invitations, so I verbally invited people-and I'm sorry if I forgot you!) and she told me she'd try to make it. God, when she said if I needed anything she meant it. When I opened the card, she had given Shane and I $100 to start our new life together...how amazing is that woman. I think she kinda adopted me as a daughter-haha*

My friend I met at SMS she thinks of me as a sister-and we've had our disagreements and such but we're trying to work things out-and she's even written about how I've influenced her-it's a two way street. Take things as they come to you-cause life is absolutely a curved road.
My friend I met freshman year-god, she told me she misses performing with me, and I miss performing with her, looking at the front of the line or behind me and smiling and winking before the show-our makeup all prettified...I don't know how exactly I've influenced her, but she told me I have-so I believe her.

Life is full of many influencing people-and they all inspire us to be better people-but we influence people too-and if we all work together we can achieve something that a movie was made into a few years ago, the movie was Pay It Forward which means if you can't return a good deed, pass it on. So, by merely existing in life we make a difference whether or not we realize it-and it's my only wish that when I am old and gray and the people older than me that have influenced me have died away that my influences live on in younger generations and that someone remembers me as a person who was always searching for that beautiful part of life that is beauty. If you get a chance to see the movie I just mentioned and read the book I'm reading, please do, you'll learn a lot about yourself and you'll discover that who you wanna be you already are. And that nothing is a coincidence-because everything is meant to be however it is.
If you've read this-I'm not depressed-I'm quite happy with my life and I love living every day to the fullest. I'm taking nothing for granted and I've found beauty in the simple sunrise, how colors change our perspectives and how simple things shouldn't be taken for granted...because in the words of Mrs. Coats, "The little things in life matter most." and she's absolutely right.

You have to appreciate who you are. There are more people who have influenced me, but I felt that I was writing a novel as it was. Maybe someday after I've lived a bit more, I shall write my autobiography-I'll probably never be famous and no one will read it-but it'll be there for people. After all, a writer is part of the world who shares with future generations the knowledge they have gained in all their characters-they put themselves in their work. LIke artists put themselves in paintings, and good musicians are the music while it lasts.

To you who have read this, I applaud you-you have just read through 50 minutes of writing. And I hope you know that you have probably influenced me too. Share what you know with other people-cause wisdom is passed down through the ages.

Until then, dream, live, laugh, love, smile, share, and keep safe.

And remember the words of Howie Day's song, Collide-"Even the best fall down sometimes."

With all my love,An Enlightened Faith

Introduction. Just to tell you who I am-(from forever ago)

Hello, my name is Autumn Faith Staggs. I was formerly Autumn Faith Luttrell, but on August 17th, 2006 I got married to the love of my life, my soulmate-Jeffery Shane Staggs. This is who I am.

I grew up an only child of William & Dana Luttrell. Apparently I was the "Hope" of the luttrell family, but i only ever felt like I was a burden on those two people. When I was 5 years old I got ready for school by myself and i came home only to be by myself for 2 more hours. One time I went home with the bus driver because she couldn't leave me there alone, I didn't tell her I was there every day by myself. Sure, my mother would come home long enough to make sure that someone was there and then she'd leave and go back to work. I grew up at Wal-Mart from age 6-8. After school I'd go to work with my mom and sit up in the lounge until my father came and got me.

I lost my best friend in a car accident when I was going to the first grade, she was going to be a second-grader...I saw the whole thing happen before my eyes and everytime I cross that intersection I pray to god that a drunk driver doesn't plow into the vehicle like he did hers.

At the age of 11 I was in the fifth grade, I became depressed because the other children were picking on me because all my clothes were second-hand and when I went home I hardly had any food in the cabinets as was. So when I went to school I never wanted to eat anything. I formed anorexia as just a fifth grader and I always found an excuse not to eat when I was out with friends or at home with my parents.

When I turned 12 I started the 6th grade at Oolitic and I had this awesome teacher who went out of her way to make sure I ate or that I had clothes. Mainly because she herself never had a daughter she kinda adopted me as one and bought me some clothes for Christmas. I had to leave her class at half year because we lost the house due to repossession but we evaded it by selling the house and renting a small two bedroom trailer other than living in the five bedroom house we use to live in.

At this middle school I participated in all sorts of activities so I wouldn't have to be at home all the time. I began eating a little bit but I was bulimic at that point-and I use to cut myself because it felt better than the pain I use to feel in my heart and emotions wise. It wasn't an "emo" thing because emo didn't exist yet, I was the real deal. The true disease. I was on the basketball team, volleyball team, academic team, yearbook staff, and about ten billion other clubs just so I had stuff to do and didn't stay at home all the time.

I entered high School but was forced to see a counselor because Dana found all my shit online and got pissed and worried about me, so after 14 years of being invisible or feeling invisible, she finally noticed me. Big whoop. From then on I would survive under someone who never trusted me because of my personal problems. I did think about suicide but I was afraid of Hell. I wasn't afraid of death I must've OD'd about a thousand times but it never killed me, it was like I was immune to the shit i was taking. I didn't really do much except church my first year of high school and I met this one girl in Algebra who is now my best friend-hell, she's my sister. My older sister and yet we're almost the same age-only she's 19. And I'm 18.

She got me involved in Marching Band and for once I belonged somewhere. Without a person in their spot in Marching Band it looks like shit, and I was needed there otherwise there'd be a hole. I was also in Science club and gradually I began to feel better about myself and i found a group of friends who I had something in common with, people I could be real with. Orchestra concerts didn't mean as much to me anymore because my parents never came and I felt like the only person I was playing for was Mrs. Brown, however, I found I was truly playing for myself after freshman year. My parents never came to my Marching Band competitions and personally, I loved it. Marching Band once more helped me get away from home and I forgot about everything.

I met Shane through a mutual friend, and we began talking last January-we started dating in February and we both knew as soon as we met that we're each other's last. Everything was perfect the moment we first kissed and it was like the stars were aligning, which technically, we share a birthday only we're 4 years apart. He had liked me since my freshman year and it was his senior year-we knew we wanted to get married after I finished my senior year.

In July of this year 2006, I got in a fight with my mother, I was sick and wanted to stay at home since it wasn't required I go to the picnic that was being held for Guard families and she argued saying I just wanted to stay home so I could talk to shane, however little truth that had in it, I was really feeling not that good and I didn't want to go because I felt like I was going to be sick. She got up off the couch and i SWEAR she raised her hand to hit me like she had done before, and me, feeling threatened hit her in the face. I was going to be done with that one punch, but she came after me more when I turned to head to my room, so I felt that if she didn't get the message and wanted more, I would give her more-anyone who knew our relationship would know that I am the type that gives warnings and then I snap. She kept coming back so I kept defending-and trying to get away. She finally stopped when my father stepped in and she called the cops.

He then told me I had a hell of a right hook.

I'd never hit anyone in my life.

I am on probation until May.

I don't talk to them anymore, they're dead to me. If they cared they wouldn't have forced me to do anything I didn't want to do while not feeling good. However, I did hit her and leave a mark. But I figure hers faded, my emotional scars from growing up and being called names will always be there.

Sometimes I call myself a bitch because it's what I was told growing up.

Sometimes I think I'm stupid because people use to call me stupid and tell me I would never amount to anything.

I turned 18 on August 6th. It was on this day that I took a home pregnancy test after realizing that I didn't have a period in July. It should've happened during band camp. ANd it came out positive. Yeah, happy birthday faith.

I told shane later that night.

We decided that for the sake of the baby, we would get married after I turned 18. Speed up the process so the baby would have the last name of its father.

So, I got married on the 17th of August. And became Autumn Faith Staggs. If you still call me luttrell, go to hell-(so call me staggs...it's okay. or just call me autumn faith like always.)

I am graduating on the 21st of December. Yep, I made it. I still have a scholarship and I've been accepted at Oakland City University to begin college. Amazing, I'm totally accomplishing my dreams. It's a boy.

His name will be Lucian Amadeus Staggs. He's due the 30th of March, 2007.

This is who I am, a wife, a mother, and a soon-to-be graduate. I love music, my husband, my son, and my friends who've been there all along. Not in that order-but you get the picture.

Hello world, this is me

All Your Life-Old Poetry.

All Your Life


All of your life,
You’ve worked for a change,
You’ve dealt with heartache, hunger, and pain.

All of your life,
you’ve labored for a living,
Watching your children grow and leave.

All of your life,
You’ve worked for a while,
Watching all of your fingers blister and bleed.

All of your life you’ve been let down,
Yet you push forward,
With your feet on the ground.

All of your life,
You’ve been hurrying around going no where fast,
Until that morning you woke up, tired of wasting gas.

All of your life,
You’ve wanted to shine,
So you stand in the sun with your head held high.

All of your life,
You’ve dreamed big dreams,
And to achieve them you’ve avoided all evil schemes.

All of your life,
You’ve made many friends,
Faithful and true, they’ll be with you until the end.

All of your life,
You’ve been running fast,
Hoping to finish in first instead of last.

All of your life,
You’ve been the competitive sort,
You’ve won first place in almost every sport.

All of your life,
You’ve wondered what’s beyond the stars
And you’ve vowed to discover planetary secrets from afar.

All of your life,
You’ve seemingly pushed forward,
Change if you wish-but keep on pushing the next generation forward.