Hi,

here is something we (the call out facebook group) was working on:

 

A two words story:
We are (Julia) all here (David) together in (Holly) this world (Julia) so full (Garrett) of brilliance. (Kelly)Together we (Garrett) can conquer (Kelly) absolutely anything. (Meghan) Life is (Mark) a circle, (Anna Soole) always connected (Julia) by the (David) connections we (Kelly) have made (Patricia) with each other. (Garrett) Each and every (Shahin) sweet memory (Gen) lingers silently (Kelly) in our (Mark)individual thoughts. (gee) Even when (Eli) it seems (gee) lonely and (Julia) hopeless to (Eli) keep going(mark) , there will (Julia) Always be (David) our friends.

Sakura (Cherry Blossom) by Gee Bossin

On my 19th, which was just on friday, I went down to victoria. This time of year, the cherry blossoms are all in bloom. I just got my hands on a fast 50 lens (a very fast lens that takes in a lot of light, enabling me to take pictures at night, or other very low-light situations) and I was giving it a whirl. I went for a walk around dusk, and this was the result. I'm very happy with these shots.

(A favourite of blog author's)

  Teenage Trangst Poem by Dallas Bennett

The girl who never was and the boy who cannot be.

             A face unknown.

             Hollow, Lacking, Vacant.

             It stares.

                     Bones grow out of place,

                     Bulging, twisting, breaking up straight lines.

                            Blood follows,

                            a screaming pain that cannot be subdued.

                            It drips, smears, stains.

                                     Tainted.

                                          Confusion sets in.

                                                 Mass hysteria?

                                                         Cells divide and concur,

                                                         an uncontrollable growth.

                                                         The heart longs to love,

                                                          but is trapped within a cage of bones

                                                          and mounds of flesh.

                                                                        An unfamiliar home.

                                                                                 The mirror reflects lies,

                                                                                 which cannot be proven incorrect.

                                                                                 Untrained eyes,

                                                                                 cannot view the falsehood,

                                                                                 of this perceived womanhood.

                                                                                              I’ve grown tired of lying.

                                                                           And I’ve grown sick of telling the truth,

                                                                                                 only to be told it’s a lie.

Ze.

A True Inner Struggle That I Love

By: Eli Linsenmeier

They said you were too much, they said you were bad and that you pushed them to do what they did. It was always your fault, you never did anything right.

Words swirled in your head, and soon that made you start to believe they were true. Stupid. Mean. Liar. Ugly. Thief. Rude. Annoying. A pain. Unlovable. It was a never ending list.

You tried so hard to prove them wrong, and got so tired at times. They didn’t see your efforts, you felt unappreciated. They each kept their grudge. They just wouldn’t budge.

Nightmares would seize your imagination and defile it with negative beliefs and views. It began to get easier. You stopped trying to resist and gave in to what they expected of you. You became ruthless.

Rejection, that became your lifestyle. You would hand the people who said they loved you a key. A key to your love, trust, and devotion. Then one by one, they would throw it back to you. They didn’t even need to say anything; it was an ‘invitation’ enough to leave their lives and homes.

It became a habit. Soon enough you were expecting everyone to give your key back. You distanced yourself from those who you felt a fondness to. you would hurt others, to protect yourself.

Better for me to hurt them before the hurt me.

Years went by, you were living in this world. You thought that it was like this for everyone, and your life was just as normal and hellish as everyone else's.

Now this is me. Here I am and I'm great. You still scream inside of me, confused, angry, hurt and alone. Sometimes that shows in me and you get the best of me. But we're working on that, now aren't we? Truth is... You're amazing, funny, kind, smart, creative, beautiful, athletic, gentle, strong, and loveable. And so am I. Beth, you were great... Never forget that. You shaped who Eli is today, and Eli is pretty great. Let's be honest, he's all the same things you were back then: Amazing, gentle, funny, athletic, smart, eccentric, beautiful, loving, helpful, strong, creative, handsome, a gentleman, loveable...

• 
  
  ... This list goes on and on. Obviously though, this is a much better list.

{Rules & Roles, by Alyssa}

%^£&@#  these Gender Roles.

Narrowing our views

stereotypical muse

with these black and white rules

me and she,

play Ken and Barbie

why? We're stuck in the ruts of our own community.

We can't help it, we've been dealt it, a set of cards as a template

to abide by, stand beside why? It's simply how the show's to be.

alone in a crowd

we stand out, we stand proud

but who's wearing the pants

not long haired girl, no, she can't

she's a she with a her

and to the roles they refer when they're scouting out lovers-to be.

Look at US, look at Me  show me what I think you see

when you see that she's not a he

and just dressed up a little mannishly

and guffaw, you're in awe

that buzzcut is decieving

still you're stuck with believeing

that she and she are copycatting

she and he.

acceptance is a hot commodity;

Do with it what you will, but let it not serve as a means for you to perpetuate these bloody Rules&Roles!

blend the binary, saturate the Roles&Rules with the blood, sweat and tears of your new and bigger ideas.

Too good to be hood,

too ghetto to be girly

ladies, do it like you do

{I just wanted to feel Human, by Alyssa}

I never wanted to be an Astronaut.

I never wanted to be a doctor, either.

I think I used to tell people I wanted to be a singer.

Even though I used to listen to Britney Spears and cringe at the thought of having to dress that way.

Money wasn't a part of things at that point. Back then I assumed that people did things because they wanted to. I thought that working at macdonalds meant that you really liked hamburgers and being a doctor meant that you really liked white coats. I never wanted to be an astronaut. I was a child inside of her own mind. Much as I am today.

You see, back then, I had learned to contemplate my existence. At ten years old, I'd sit in the car and zoom out slowly. I'd force myself to see things in perspective, until the sheer magnitute of outer space frightened me back into my own reality. I was still me, yet I could feel my palms start to warm and heart start to thump. As scary as it was, I never told anyone because even then I knew it would appear strange to ask such a profound question. "Why are we here? What is the point of Life." I didn't know what scared me more, the possibility of an answer or the possibility of there being none. Imagining space made my brain hurt in a way I couldn't explain.

I never wanted to be an astronaut, because even when you're up there with people you're terribly alone. You're alone in your own head, with your own thoughts. You are on your own journey and no one can ever understand what that would feel like. No picture could accurately describe what I knew would felt like a stifling inner silence.

I never wanted to be an astronaut. I never wanted a job that would make me confront what I was timidly questioning then. "What is the point of Life?" That was the day I stopped seeing my parents as parents, but rather as people. I have always been able to see right through people. I realized then that parents do not know everything and neither do people, for answers to profound questions asked by profound children are profoundly difficult to answer.

And now, nine years later, I'm still sitting in the backseat, asking myself questions I don't want the answers for. 

I've been in my head keeping my mouth shut for all these years and I'm just starting to unravel it all.

{Self Love Letter, by Julien}

Dear Julien,

            I have struggled very hard in the last few years to accept you the way you are. I never understood your sensitivity, or the way you felt things you shouldn’t. I thought you were weak. I didn’t like the way you looked. I’ve always known that you had a pretty face, that’s what everyone says, but you never looked the way I wanted. No matter how little you ate or how much makeup you wore. You always had a lot of potential, but never the drive to realize it. I was disappointed in you for a long time.

            As years went by I spent a lot of time thinking about you. I realize now that I spent too much time trying to change you, but as weak as I thought you were you wouldn’t let me get in. I would try to hurt you and you would push forward anyway. And then there were these flashes of your light. The times when you were just so funny in conversations with your brother, or the way you would care for your sick mother on her bad days. You were beautiful then, in a way that I wanted to trap in a bottle and keep for your bad days, because you had a lot of those then.

            In the last two years I’ve seen you grow in ways I didn’t know you could. Maybe I was trying to stop you. I don’t know. But you’ve become a beautiful young woman. The vulnerability that I have been so afraid of has become one of your greatest strengths. The way you balance your timetable is quite impressive, and I know you’re shooting for the stars. Somebody once told me that if your dreams don’t scare you, they aren’t big enough, and your dreams scare the crap out of me. But I’m proud of you.

            I am so sorry for the way I’ve mistreated you. The thing is, like the rest of the world, I didn’t understand you when you were younger. Now I know why you were so quiet. Now I can respect that you are more than good enough the way you already are. Because lets be honest here, you’re a pretty excellent person.
            And I love you.