There’s nothing I’d rather do than creating something new, the patience and determination make me a better person. Learning to do many different things is my greatest joy in life, it brings me lasting pleasure to see my creations come to life before my very eyes. The latest thing I’ve learned do is crochet blankets, and now rugs too. The rug I’m currently working on is made with t-shirt yarn from old shirts that were shrunken, stained, or tattered, so I’m not just making something new, I’m recycling without making waste, too!
This has been the first word from Daily Post that I’ve had trouble coming up with something for, so I decided to take it upon myself to familiarize myself with the word better & fold it into my vocabulary.
Paragon: a model or pattern of excellence or of a particular excellence or someone of exceptional merit.
I wonder why it is that this isn’t a more prominent word amongst the English language, for I feel now that I know it better, it would’ve been a useful term to know prior to this. Paragon, a word I’ll now use as a goal for my child, I’ll teach her its importance, the value of the word. If I had known it sooner, I’d have done the same for myself, learned to live my life by it.
As the thorn tears through my skin, I feel a tingling sensation within. It caused me pain, and yet it helped me feel alive, the last time that I felt this way was when I got tattoos. Your words are made of bullets, they pierce and sting my soul, I can’t conceive that I believed the hatred you inspired. The way it all sounds in my head, those awful words you used, like “I wish you would die”, “Go find a new life”, or determining my worth. I’m haunted and I’m wounded, punctured through the heart, a new hole every single time you toy with my emotions. So I’ll never forget the things you said, I take them to my grave, and I’ll hope that in another life, I don’t see you again.
Trying to share a piece of myself with anyone else is where I struggle most, I push and pull, I’m needy and chill, and some days I just can’t help but cry until my eyes are running dry. So I taper off the parts of me that I don’t want the world to see, and hide behind what I perceive to be the idea of normalcy. I hope my act is convincing enough to keep the people out who have hurt me too much, to keep them from interfering with me and whatever it is my future may bring. So I tapered off the friends I had, until all that was left was my husband and then I even pulled away from him, realizing I needed to rely within. I’ve never been good at being alone, but I’ve learned to taper time by trying to do something good.
It isn’t just having luscious hair, or blaring your music everywhere, but volume can stand for so much more; the volume at which you hold your moral code. I find it harder to relate to people my age, they don’t seem to comprehend basic manners and humanity. If I had money I would be the biggest philanthropist, teaching kids to read and helping keep the water clean. The wealthiest Americans are crippled by their greed, never fully knowing the change sharing it can bring. All I know is if I could, I’d help the world any way I could, and show my daughter that morality and humanity never grow old.
I’m tough on the outside, my walls are kept high, I’m unable to identify with everyone around me. I’m pathetic and weak and feel sorry for myself, but I only let it show every once in a great while. I’m bad at reaching out, bad at asking for help, but mainly it’s because no one ever seems to care. Why would I continue to put myself out there, when all I’m ever met with is disappointment and discouragement? When someone asks me who I am, I ponder on whether to be honest or not, for it feels as though every single time I am, my calls for help still remain ignored. No one seems to understand and I wonder if they ever will, or if I’m just truly doomed to spend the rest of my days being totally and royally misunderstood. I’m delicate and tender, my feelings insecure, but people suck so I give up at making any new friends.
There’s people like me, unlucky and unloved, we find ourselves in harm’s way too often of the time. We’re valued as less because we’re poor, because of our color, our gender, or more, but mostly it’s the things in our lives we have no control over that contributes to the way society sees us. Tell me how that logic is fair, to judge other people for what they are, where they’re born, or what social class they fall into? Nothing about that is moral, yet it’s become the standard, a way of life for the middle class and higher to stick up their noses, to put down their foot and be selfish and greedy. We need more young people with fresh hearts and fresh minds to help spread positivity and solutions instead of passing judgment. The youth is our future, our present needs a revelation, some people to shake things up and show the world the devastation that’s caused by how we treat the poor, those who need help, and convince us to make those most vulnerable our number one priority.
Love and life, lust and loss, so many four letter words can define our lives. Hate and hell, risk and will, four letter words define our world. Winning and losing, losing and winning, everything depends upon your perception. Here’s what I think, this is what I say, as long as you learned something, you can win at anything. The biggest difference between triumph and tragedy is how you allow your life to impact you. There are heroes who’ve won and lost, but the greatest ones of all were not always winners. We’re human, we struggle, we fall off the path, we get too distracted and lose sight of ourselves. It’s those who’ve overcome misery whom are the wisest of all, and wisdom is only gained through perseverance. So fear not, even if you’re lost, for triumph is possible as long as you believe it.
The smell of fresh fall air after a light rainfall, the way the wind feels blowing on your face, the way you feel after a much needed embrace. We always hear that the best things in life are free, and for these reasons I’d agree, and maybe you can help me spread a greater appreciation for these things in the end. For too many people long for things, possessions, materialism, instead of what’s most imperative, to teach our children that money isn’t everything, that no one else can decide their worth, and if they believe in themselves then there’s nothing they can’t do. Give me the crisp, cool air, a crisp breeze through my hair, and my loved ones surrounding me everywhere I go. For these are the things that make life worthwhile, not the crisp dollar bills fresh from your bank account.
My brain is bursting with ideas no one will ever hear, for I’m ashamed for them to know the way that I’ve been thinking. My goals, achieved, or given up, for I can’t seem to catch a break. I tried and tried, and worked and worked, all to be treated like an outdated book. I’m polished, you see, my mind in tact, but that’s not what others see when they see me out & about. People are mean and cruel and fail to understand the concept of empathy, try living in my head. It’s loud and dark and overcrowded, occasionally I’ll find a moment of silence, but it is always too short lived, my inner self screams to be more than just within.
Tick tock goes the clock, my mind’s awake but my body won’t follow. I’m sick and depressed, it’s weighing me down, my shoulders drag heavy across the ground. I’m trying my best to just forget so that I can move on, but it seems I’ll never reach that point no matter how much time has passed so I’m forever lost and some suggest that it’s better this way, it’s for the best. My heart it plays a rhythmic beat, the sound I can’t remember, for its been so long since I’ve felt true love that every part of me is breaking. My bones they ache, through night and day, as I wallow in my lonely woes and yet I just can’t get a grip, I can’t forget what happened. The only rhythm left I’ve got is when I sing, but I don’t do it enough, for I torture myself, don’t do what I love, so I can forget what I’m good at and hit rock bottom.
Alone and abandoned, and barely hanging on; surviving instead of living, no matter how hard I try to leave the past behind me, forget it happened at all, so that I can finally be free, so I can finally move on. My life has just begun yet it seems that I’ve lived many, I can’t believe how long it’s been since the events that truly shaped me. There’s things I’ve seen you won’t believe, and so I’ll never tell you, but hear me now, I beg of you, that doesn’t mean they never happened. I’m jaded and I’m terrified, my life in flames before my eyes, and now I’m just convinced that I’m unable to exist inside this works, inside this cage, I’m tired of feeling rage. So if you think that you know me then you’re a fool for assuming that you know anything about me, let alone who I’ve become because you haven’t been around, I’ve been alone for quite some while but I’m accustomed to it now. I’m certain, yes I’m sure, that I’ll forever be alone because I’m through with being used and I will not just be abused so I won’t let anyone in, inside my walls is where I’ll live until my days come to an end, so farewell, so long, my friends.
Glitter, glitter, shiny and rare, reminding me to always be aware of all the beauty in the world, despite the fact that there is so much scorn. There’s wonder and glory all around, if you look hard enough it’ll surely be found. But times arise when you will find it’s harder for you to see the light, the tunnel appears dark, feels cold, but that’s the time for you to be bold. Don’t give away your sense of self, and don’t be changed by anyone else, for you are bright and shiny too, shimmering and good, and full of virtue. So don’t give up, please don’t give in, the world needs to know that there’s still truth in it, so be yourself above all else, and do what you can for everyone else.
Language is a barrier for those whom aren’t the same, from different places comes another dialect, another obstacle in the way. We must admit that we’ve been tricked for words are faulty and come out wrong, the one thing that’s international is our body language when something’s wrong. It’s obvious to anyone the pain in someone’s eyes when they’ve lost someone they love, or lost something they pride. The looks on the faces of homeless children conveys the anguish they exist with every day and the loneliness they feel is obvious for anyone to see. So now instead of allowing words to hold such power, let’s return to a time when we did more than just glance at one another, let’s study each other, faces and all so that we can empathize better than we would on our own. Notice someone’s pain, take someone’s away, but there’s no good reason to cause anyone any pain.