the laugh of a child.

'she tried to walk casually,
but her head was in the clouds.
the air rushing through
threads of hair
that had been untouched for weeks.
she kept her strength up
so those around her wouldn't thing it was low -
for it was.
oh, so low.
lower than the grass below the toes
that dug into pebbles and dirt.
lower than a struggling earthworm
fighting for a piece of light.
but this girl,
so quiet behind her cage,
had stories to tell.
stories that couldn't stay in the clouds forever.
stories hidden in threads of hair;
floating in the wind.
just waiting to be released.'


Camp Good Days begins next week and I am thrilled. Thrilled to not only escape, but just thrilled to be in a place where everything seemed to make sense and fit into place. I'm hoping this first week isn't a blur, but blends in with time. I hope it continues to open my eyes and make me learn something about others and myself. I'm positive that will not only happen this week, but during the week of the 21st as well.

I'm beginning another novel - to read. I'm still in this writers block mode that is KILLING me. The book I am reading is The Memory Keepers Daughter by Kim Edwards. I've heard from many that it is a great book and I hope it keeps my attention. I think it already has.

Working at Storybook Child Care has opened my eyes to so much within the past month. I've learned more about my love for helping children and more about the children I spend time with everyday. They are like miniature people - each with deep opinions and unique ideas. Sure it may become stressful, but the time spent there makes me content. It makes me feel young again. Hearing the children laugh makes me content and watching the children learn about their surroundings makes me thankful. I cannot see my future without interaction with children. I could not sit in a cubicle all day not talking to anyone. I'd much rather be with others who help me learn what it is like to be young and innocent again.

an invisible ache.

My summer has been, well, okay. It's different being away from home - good and bad. I miss seeing my mother and listening to my sister laugh with her friends. It's strange waking up and going to work everyday, even though I've come to enjoy it. Work isn't even work for me - it's passion. Being with children seems to make me less grumpy and more free. At least that's how I see it.

I'm going to be calling Strong Memorial Hospital to see if I can volunteer in the childrens oncology ward on the weekends. I think it will not only look good on my resume, but will open my eyes to a different reality - the reality I want to spend the rest of my life helping. With Camp coming up soon, my excitement continues to rage. Sure, there are some aspects this year that I am nervous about, but I'm excited to be at the one place that only results in positivity. I can go there and leave any drama from Roc behind me and focus on the kids there. My sister being one of those kids.

However, some things are still upsetting me. Certain people I once felt one way about have made me see them in a different light. It's weird how you can feel one way towards someone and then instantly want to blow up in their face the next. The only thing is - I don't understand why these feelings are here. This person dissapeared, out of the blue, for no reason that I am really aware of. It kills me because I want to know what I did wrong, if anything at all.


the brightest light will hurt you;
the dimmest light will correct the pain.

a change? a mission? a journey?

It's funny how things change. How people change. Or maybe it isn't exactly changing, but the idea of falling back onto what you always wanted. Within the past couple weeks I have been thinking about my future. Where it is going and what it will be like. Sure, it's hard to create a perfect image in your mind about something so willing to change - but it's that willingness that needs to be seen.

Everyday when I wake up and go to work, at the daycare, I find myself more and more wanting to work with children. Every since I was little, I was great with kids. I liked being around them and making them smile. That's why I'd do anything for those kids at work - even the ones I cannot stand. So now I'm starting to want to change my major... again. Back to Liberal Arts most likely. I'm starting to want to major in Early Childhood Develepment or Recreational Therapy. I want to be a Child Life Specialist. I love Camp Good Days and making kids who are struggling fire back and be strong. So, by working with sick children and helping them cope - I think my questions may be answered.

However, there's is always that question of writing. Where will it go? No where, duh. I NEED to write and WILL be an author. Maybe I do not need to major in communications or english to be published - I just have to be willing to keep giving it a shot.