Fighting for Life

I was looking through Hope Was Here today, just flipping through it, when I found this on the first page I started reading:
"A man shouts from across the room. 'G.T., how are you going to handle the stress of campaigning and being mayor if you're fighting for your life?'
G.T. leans against the dessert case across from the register. 'Because I'm more interested in living than in dying. And I want to bring as much healthy change into this town as I can before I go. I'm a short-order cook, Morgan. I always do more than one thing at a time.'"
~ from Hope Was Here by Joan Bauer, p. 37-38
...How inspiring is that?

If You Could Only See

There are so many things people don't know about one another, it's scary. Even when people claim to be calm, cool and collected, they really and truly aren't always. I know this from experience. Why do I know this? Well, because...

Not my best picture OR writing, no, but it says it all. It's funny how much you can find out through an open window. A cracked-open door. Outside. Pretty scary. And amazing, all at once. It's almost wrong to know something else about someone that nobody else would even care to think of. And pretty chilling. Story of my life.

Does anyone else have insight, too? Or is it just me?

Music

This picture is the kind of thing I'd dream about. I love it.

I like music that's achingly beautiful and rock music. Any suggestions? (P.S. I am a Led Zeppelin, Cranberries, and Green Day fan, in case you haven't noticed already.) My hands ride across the keys, my mind accelerating, lips formed into a perfectly curled smile. Writing is love.

Pick Up the Pieces and Go Home

People say a picture's worth a thousand words, but sometimes I wonder if a word's worth a thousand pictures instead...
I've been wondering.
And have gotten no true answer yet.
Enlighten me?
Anyway, why not combine pictures AND words to spread a message, small as it may be. These are to people in my life, and some of them are super personal, like you'd never imagine, even while some of them are funny. Because some of these things make me cry. But I still have to be able to pick up the pieces and go home, otherwise I'll be a pathetic mess everywhere I walk. So here I go.

Right? I mean, c'mon... Just need to get this off my chest for the great M.C. (hear the sarcasm?): C.M. To mom, dad, and my principal. Daddy, I just thought this was so... you. Hehe, T. F. Sweet revenge, huh?Grandma. I say this 'cause I love you.What are you, Music? Well...For you, even if you don't know it.Just to let you know, J. B...For Z. B. and I, and all the others rocking to their own drummer.Thanks for teaching me this, mom. Story of my life.