Being Different

While thinking this weekend, the thought came into mind; what makes a person normal? Is it the clothes we wear, the way we talk or act, the music we listen to, or our style? Then it dawned on me "normal" is just another way of saying "Congrats you fit into our society of all black and white." Normality is a restriction on all things considered ethical in our little societies of right and wrong. Just look at all the great artists past and present; Vincent Van Goh, people hated his art at the time because it was out of the norm, but now look how priceless his art work really is! Even the more modern; Johnny Depp, people consider the man crazy, and yet he is a acting genius! Observe the past the people who's names went down into history are the ones people considered crazy because they where not normal!! So I'm starting a crusade against normality, I'm tired of living normal, and acting normal. I'm going to stop and observe the world when everyone else is to busy, I'm going to step out of subject in a conversation, I'm going to be who I want to be.

Why I Hate the Word "Sorry"

"Can you tell me something? Be completely honest, okay?" I tried to keep my tone even as my heart raced in my chest. "Do you still love me?" Deep in my heart I knew the answer already. things just haven't been the same between us recently. It was as if a huge glass wall blocked me from him. I could witness the emotions changing, but I on the opposite side of the ever-growing glass could do absolutely nothing. There was a long pause; his answer came in a slow, sluggish response. "I..I'm to mixed up right now....I can't tell." Translation; no. "I'm sorry" this was his typical response. by this time I now loathed the word 'sorry' especially when it came from him. They're so warm and trustworthy so you let them in, but they soon enough turn into cold, glistening knives once they are close to your heart. I could even now feel the latest one sinking into me. I wanted so badly to trust it, to open myself up to its warm glow, but I knew better. I decided to take the less fatal blow, I ignored it. All the years practiced to hold back my most bitter tears now payed off. "Wait till later" I told myself. Now I could only wonder why. There are other guys, ones that wouldn't tear my heart into shreds, or make it beat so thunderously. So why do I keep coming back to him? Why is it that I always see his face when I'm falling a sleep? Don't I deserve better? I hurt from the pain he has inflicted on me, and I suffer because he doesn't love me. Pathetic! I wish I could just erase myself, be an illusion to everyone. No agony, no questions, no love, no hate, and no confusion.

Pet Peeve #7

That bad things usually happen to good people, the ones who don't deserve it. They are so kind, humble, happy and yet horrid things happen to them. And the people who do deserve the trials don't have such bad things happen to them!

Pet peeve #6

When people wine about how "fat" they are because they only fit into a size 0 instead of a 1, and say "How can you like me I'm so fat!"
Here's some advice, suck it up and go on with life! There are a lot more important things in life, than how much you weigh!!

My Own Romeo

It is true that the forbidden love is the most lusted for, I would know. I knew having him was to good to be true—for things like this always are--. There just had to be some catch, and of course, there was. I long for him to be with me, yet I find myself so far away. They try in harsh attempts to keep us apart, to keep me from his arms, but their attempts are in vain. Nothing can contain love. The power that surged to take us apart only made my love, and want for him grow stronger. I find myself thinking of him more and more, making my want my dominant emotion. I imagine him in my mind, his short flaming hair and shining eyes. I let my mind trace over and over the features of his face in my mind. Everything from the scattered freckles, to the smallest curve in his smile. I want to stand besides him, to feel the curve of his arms, to feel the warmth of his lips. It must be a sickness to think of another so often and so fondly. However instead of curing it, I let it rage and rack my entire being. It wipes out all of my common scene and replaces it with burning desire. Why must I suffer so? It is because I want, but cannot have fully, he whom I desire.

*All stories are property of Castro. It is illegal to copy this story without permission from the author.

My Truth

Your sorrow is my sorrow,
It hurts me every time.
Scolding, harsh, unloving,
I stand beside you, an invisible ghost.
I long for your arms,
but they belong to another.
Holding you up I bend,
break,
shatter.
Overwhelming pressure
I can't stand beside you without hurting
and yet,
I need to,
because if you stand tall, I stand tall,
but if you fall, so do I.

Pet Peeve #5

The word "Sorry". People say it ALL the Time and usually don't mean it! It is the most common word to be heard when your Hurting. People say it when they have nothing better to say, and the list goes on and on. Which is why I declare it the Worst word in the English dictionary. (Acta Non Verba=Actions NOT Words!)

Pet Peeve #4

When the only thing guys are good for is a great short story!

Pet Peeve #3

When people leave stupid comments on Youtube (i.e. "your cat is stupid!" in response to "I love laughing"). It makes me wonder do they know what IDIOTS they are?!

Pet Peeve #2

When the photographer refuses to take your picture unless you give him your "biggest smile" and it ends up making you look like a complete idiot.

Pet Peeve #1

"This hurts me more that you." Then he turns around and doesn't care at all! you know what I say to that? LIAR, LIAR, LIAR!!!

A Night to Wish For (A Short Story)

The world spun brightly around me, casting everything in the warm glow I felt. It feels as if my heart was going to burst with this joy that was so rarely felt. Low and sharp, I heard his booming laugh. I spun around to look at his glorious face. Golden curls tousled upon his head, and his blue, heart shattering eyes crinkled at the corners. The sight made my heart flutter and my mouth curve in an unexpected grin. This was freedom, no one to tell me what to do, or who to be, and then being here, with him, the fuel to the fire. He walked towards me, snow crunching underneath his feet and swept me up in a warm embracing hug. I thought it funny, I didn't realize I was cold until he was there warming me inside and out. I felt so small next to him, he was my personal skyscraper. If only he knew how I felt, if I only knew how he felt. It's so hard to tell, one day it seems as if he likes me and the next day he is a total stranger. Only then did I realize I now knew what the phrase 'emotional roller coaster' meant. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Is it so necessary to go through it all and so often only to end up in heartbreak? Garbing my frosty hand, which always seems to be cold, he pulled me along besides him. We slid on the freshly casted snow on the ground making a game of it as we went. Torture and happiness seemed to always walk hand in hand when I am with him. But for the moment I let happiness take over filling everything again in my warm golden glow.

*All stories are property of Castro. It is illegal to copy this story without permission from the author.

*The Beginning of the End (A short story)

The icy, crisp wind blew over me, caressing my exposed arms and face. I gazed up into the seemingly endless sky, mind full of awe and wonder. An immense glow fell down from the moon's whole, glistening face, casting everything in a teal light. Even the water below me shone like a liquid silver from its light. This was may place, a place where I could be humbled by nature's beauty, a place where I could think and organize my jumbled, over crowded mind, and my place to get away form the thoughts that led me to thinking about him. I listened to the wind rake thought the trees, as I ran my fingers along the grain of the dock's smooth wood that I was sitting on. Just then the chilling wind slammed into my body, my mind went instantly to wishing he was here with me, only he could drive out the cold inside, and out. Tears sprang to my eyes as I remembered our last conversation, “What if I can't move on?” I pleaded. “Of course you can” his voice just above a rasping wiper “Life goes on, it's not the end of the world.” That's what he thought, my world was slowly crumbling and sliding away before me. “I'm sorry” I blumberd. He looked at me with his stern but loving don't-you-even-think-about-it, look and replied “None of this is your fault, you remember that.” Those where his last words. I came back to the serene nature in front of me. Tears cascaded down from my eyes and landed in the water ending their suicidal plunge. In all of this world only one ting seems to be true to me, 'life's not fair' . . .

*All stories are property of Castro. It is illegal to copy this story without permission from the author.