i am a vacuum

i feel like no matter how much is given to me, i am still discontent. i seem to have an insatiable thirst for more of anything, whether its healthy or not, whether its good or not, whether its right or not. i am a black hole. throw as much crap at me as you want, it won't matter. i will eat it. eat it right up. just you watch me.


i am grasping onto
things that are unseen
and the biggest mystery is
that i can't seem to let myself
let go

unjust

you over there
with your ultraviolet eyes
and your picture perfect smile
how is it that life picks on you so
when it knows perfectly well how in love with it
you are?

see?

i learn things in many places. i never fail to underestimate their significance, and they never fail to surprise me.

chapter one: this week, as it is spring break, my aunt and cousin came out from virginia to stay with us. it had been at least 5 years since i had seen them last. my cousin and i where visiting our opa and he was telling us stories about himself in which i was deeply enthralled. my cousin leaned over and commented dryly "i am about to fall asleep. is this all old people do?"......

and i see things differently

chapter two: after having heard about it for months, i finally read "the alchemist". i was reading the part where the boy has to turn himself into wind. and he goes through all the things of the world first and they cannot help him until eventually he turns to God and miracles are done through him.....

and i see things differently

chapter three: this morning when i woke up, it was raining. the sky was a deep gray, and drizzle was sliding down the window. someone i was talking to called it "an ugly day for staying inside". i went for a walk to see for myself.
it is most beautiful when it rains. the world is beautiful always....

and i see things differently

ridiculous

in front of dia is the oddest sculpture i have ever seen. it is a royal blue stallion, reared on its back legs. it must be at least fifteen or twenty feet tall. if you have the privelege of driving by it at night, as i did, you will also experience its intensely glowing fiery red eyes.
apparently the artist was killed while he made it. i guess it fell on top of him or something. the bronco now serves as a kind of memorial to him. you ever wonder how people would remember you if you died? hopefully not as the person who creates outrageously questionable "art".

streetlights

the biting wind came in great gusts. i think it was trying to knock me down. i don't mind. snow flakes kissed the pavement and landed on my tongue and cheeks. the sky was lowering. it was seven o'clock. i cannot think of one better way for this day to end.

universal

hello, my name is abby mcmillen, queen of everything. thank you for understanding my need to talk only of myself.

it is spring time, which also means it is track and field time. ever thought about what a silly sport it is? just keep running around in circles until you puke, that sounds like fun. eight is way too many times to go around a track. but me, being the brilliant thinker that i am, do it anyway. consistently too. whoever decided it was a good idea to have 2 meets in one week was on something.

grey

do you remember
the fog. the black suitcase. the view from the bus window
the way reflections could tell
in the half light
the terrifically haunting way
love appeared
when we were young

shatter

the noise grows louder and louder, bearing down on my little house. shaking all the glass almost out of the panes. look up. why is it that i was think of WWII whenever a plane passes over? its just an airplane. no ones gonna get bombed, i promise.

escape

dear mind:
i have noticed that you seem quite muddled as of late. i am doing my best to fix this...
today i put up my umbrella and flew away on the wind. just like mary poppins

love/ hate

in. out. in. out.
think of nothing.
robotic.
methodic.
the rhythm runs through the wires, into my ears and is translated to movement.
just don't stop. just don't stop.
you know nothing but to run. that is all you know.
it is nothing romantic.
it is nothing poetic.
it is much more cruel than that.
it is just breathing.
just moving.

deafening

i'm learning more and more how powerful silence is
i'm learning how unnaturally it comes to me