Favorites

Here I have two lists of favorites. The first is from last January, the second is from now. I like to see how I've changed, especially since this year has been one of so many changes. I'm in a constant state of development and change, hopefully for the better. We'll see how I feel when I look back at this in another year.

2013:
My favorite smell is either fresh cut grass (not mowed by me), Collin Hoggard's cologne, or fresh mountain air.
My favorite color is either mint green, teal blue, rich plum, or burnt orange.
My favorite crayola crayon name is indigo.
My favorite lower case letters are i and y.
My favorite songs are: Firewood, Be Calm, C'mon, Carry On, Scream and Shout, We Are Golden, Irresistible, Stardust, Emphasis, Always, The Dumb Song, Kyrie, and I'm stopping this list because it will go on forever.
My favorite textures are my sweater, hair, my snuggie, and vintage t-shirts.
My favorite tastes are mint gum, cherry chapstick, and oriental food.
My favorite nail colors are salmon,bright pink, and slytherin green.
My favorite restaurants are La Joia Groves, Panda Express, and Rodizios.
My favorite text I've ever received was 3 pages long.
My favorite notebook had off-white pages.
My favorite punctuation is a semi-colon.
My favorite feeling is falling in love when the fall and love is reciprocated.
My favorite sound is the bell at the end of class.

2014:
My favorite smell is my room at home.
My favorite color is blue.
My favorite crayola crayon name is Wisteria or Mango Tango.
My favorite lower case letter is s.
My favorite songs..... I seriously have tried to think about this for an hour, but there are too many.
My favorite texture is clean hair.
My favorite taste is my mouth right after I brush my teeth.
My favorite nail color is anything bright.
My favorite restaurant would have to be any hipster-ish establishment.
My favorite text I've ever received was about something that doesn't exist.
My favorite notebook has Smaug on the cover.
My favorite punctuation is a period.
My favorite feeling is surety.
My favorite sound is a car turning off.


All in all, I think I've grown up, become a bit more open-minded, and learned to appreciate a myriad of different things, but at the root I'm the same person. I'm still me.

--P.A.

Clear

Don't worry your precious head none.

I'm here.

You're here.

Here we can stay for a little while

and relish the tastes in our mouths of the words exchanged

and the thoughts laid out on the table for consumption.

We'll live each moment like our last,

and when we are in the future we'll be happy that this is our past.

We'll be happy.

So don't fret,

I'm here

and I'm not going anywhere.

You're going somewhere though.

That's why I fret.

Except I don't.

Because it will all be

okay.

It will all be

okay.

In fact, it will be better than

okay.

Just wait and see.

See the sky?

It's blue,

and there are stars out there.

You can't see them right now,

but they're there.

I promise.

Sometimes I want to tell you that it will be like that.

You can't always see me,

but

I promise I'm there.

You won't always see me,

but

I promise I will be there.

Just like the stars.

Or the sun.

Because sometimes

you can't see the sun,

just the reflection of its light on the moon.

Maybe I'm the moon,

reflecting the

light you give me.

Maybe I'm the stars.

Maybe I'm just the air you breathe in.

Constant and essential.

Because you are: constant and essential.

You are lots of things to me.

And someday you will understand and I will understand and it will all be clear.

--P.A.

M. M. Clement

You are truly 
a gem in
society.
I think--
I know
That you are going places.
And I will probably follow
Like the moon follows the sun
in the sky
as we look up
and watch the
void of night
and day.

Listening? It's my favorite.
Well
As long as it's you that's doing the talking.
And a select other
few.

Caring? 
Caring about you and your writing?
It's the natural woman in me.
Obviously.
 
Except not.
 
Because sometimes I don't think women care about the same things we do.
Because we're kind of
Different.
But I like it.
A lot.

--P.A.

Shakespeare's Sonnet 29

When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate

For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

This is the sonnet that I sang in Carnegie Hall last February. It is my favorite sonnet by far, it's language and message beautiful.

--P.A. 

Things to do if you're bored:

I made this list all the way back in 2009, and I'm not quite sure why. But let me tell you, it's pure genius. You do these things, and you won't be bored at all.

Glue your feet to your shoes so they don’t fall off
Disassemble your pen and "accidentally" flip the ink cartridge across the room.
Create your own "get rich" scheme
Do it yourself Mohawk
Bathe with your clothes on
Try to teach your dog to climb trees
Have a water gargling contest
Have a "Who is less competitive" competition
Glad wrap your friend to a tree
Make Star Trek door noises
Make a low buzzing noise
Rake your carpet
Water your dog...see if he grows
Mow your carpet
Be blue
Be red
But don't be orange
See how small you can scrunch your face
try to swallow your tongue
Pick up a dog so it can see things from your point of view
Try not to think about penguins
Turn your living room into a public pool
Step off a curb with eyes shut, imagine it's a cliff

 

--P.A.

 

Time

I lay in my bed listening to music. This is a common practice of mine: listening to music, curled up in blankets. I feel warm, I feel safe, I feel like the words and sounds of the music slowly unwind all of my pent up discouragement and over-expressed emotion. Music heals me. Blankets heal me. Time heals.
It's all about time.
Give it time, it will work out. Give it time, it will resolve itself. Give it time, you will see.
Always give more time--they say. Well time will eventually run out, but I suppose for now I have a bit to spare before my calender no longer has partially-empty days. I suppose for now I can give of the one thing I can't get back.
You can't get time back.
You can't take back days and weeks, years spent doing things that seem to not matter now. You can't take back that first moment when you meet someone, after you wish to not meet them and give them those five minutes of your time that lead to a few hours, days, weeks. You can't take back the time you spend in a corner of a bookshop, writing down what you thought would be a fantastic beginning to the rest of your life. You can't take back the time given to helping your little sister with math homework.
And you shouldn't want to take it back.
Nope.
Don't try and rob yourself of the good that comes out of spent time, out of giving your time, out of wasting your time. You can't get it back, so why waste future time trying to wish it so? Rather, look at the things you learn, gain, give. Benefit from the past.

--P.A.

A Man

A man must be gentle, but teasing. He should tell his lady the little things he notices about her that he loves. He must be considerate of her, and himself. He should dress well. And every once in a while he should be romantic. He also needs to every once in a while do something completely boy-ish. he needs to know what color his lady's eyes are. He should touch her face and hold her head. Hold her head when he hugs her, when he kisses her, when he just wants to watch her speak. A man should be kind to others, except when they need to be taught a lesson. And a man should know the word of God and feel comfortable with it. He needs to remember things and keep the small moments in a special place. He needs to understand that a lady doesn't really know things about herself unless she's been told, and so he should do the telling. A man should hold her close when they dance. He should be willing to do the dishes. He should respect his Elders. He needs to be okay if she cries in front of him. He should read to her and want her to read to him. A man should know how to teach a child to tie their shoes. A man should dream big, even if his biggest dream is a seemingly simple on.e A man should enjoy just sitting and thinking, sitting and thinking as he holds a loved one near, no words needed. A man should be okay if his lady wants to wear just a t-shirt and jeans because she's having an off day. He should be okay if she has an off day and treat her all the better for it. He should like to eat cookies. He should listen. He should take risks. He shouldn't judge a differing opinion. A man should also talk and tell what is in his mind, his heart. A man should be okay with simple things, but also okay with not so simple things. He should write love notes. Or draw pictures. He should think of songs that represent things and communicate the meaning. He should allow himself to not be perfect.

And while a man could, or should be all of these things, he more importantly needs to be his own man, his own person that represents himself in the best way possible.

--P.A.

Love Is

Love is new pens

Love is a fresh notebook.

Love is the thoughts put into writing a book.

Love is velvet curtains.

Love is a baggy sweatshirt.

Love is a blotchy page in a journal.

Love is the smooth touch of silk on bare skin.

Love is an earthquake.

Love is tape.

Love is the freckles on the bridge of your nose after summer.

Love is a plate of cookies.

Love is sleeping in.

Love is an electric current racing through clasped hands, shocking the person at the end of the chain.

Love is a cough.

Love is the tears falling off a face.

Love is the smell of fresh bread.

Love is a suffocating grasp.

Love is saying bless you after someone yawns.

Love is just holding a hand.

Love is the smell of a shoe store.

Love is using their middle name.

Love is a kiss.

Love is an uneven beat.

Love is comfy pants.

Love is a fast song.

Love is swallowing harsh words.

Love is 11:11.

Love is tasting chapstick.

Love is smelling candles.

Love is watching a movie.

Love is a long, confusing novel that may or may not have a happy ending.

Love is mis-matching socks.

Love is knowing the color of their eyes.

Love is hoping that they’ll wear their hearts on their sleeve.

Love is crying during songs that remind you of moments and shared glances.

Love is saying their name and loving the feel of it on your tongue.

Love is waiting.

Love is a weight in your chest that should be unbearable, but you enjoy it anyway.

Love is a friendship bracelet from your sister.

Love is the words in our favorite quotes and songs.

Love is late.

Love is a filled picture album.

Love is drinking out of your designated cup.

Love is trying to make it work.

Love is time.

Love is being impressionable.

Love is being considerate.

Love is breakfast in the morning.

Love is silence that doesn’t need to be filled.

Love is hesitating.

Love is crying during a movie.

Love is taking time to reassure.

Love is hard.

Love is all-consuming.

Love is a freshly ironed white collared shirt.

Love is a painting with a hundred shades of one color.

Love is running down a long flight of stairs.

Love is hidden in the words of a newspaper.

Love is kind.

Love is holding a chatty two-year-old.

Love is watching someone grow up.

Love is thinking about the future.

Love is doing laundry.

Love is a Mother and Father.

Love is reading the same sentence over and over again.

Love is precious.

--P.A.