Dear Homework:

I know we've been dating for a solid twelve years now... but I'm just going to give it to you straight. I've been cheating on you. No, I don't mean literally cheating...  I earned those scores all by myself... but I've been seeing someone else. My pillow, mostly. And blanket.
I love you, homework. I really do. You've helped me so much throughout the years. But you've always wanted prescience over everything else in my life; and pillow and blanket don't ask for much commitment. I know you're so much more than your scores but that's all other people see, Homework. And I'm not going to pretend to ignore your ongoing flirtation with Grades, either. You insist that she doesn't matter to you- well how come you are almost inseperable these days? What happened to the time when she didn't need you to survive?
The thing is... I just don't really care about you anymore. I know that's really harsh of me to say.  But it's the truth. Homework- I really just don't care. You're so nagging. So needy. I mean, I can have other friends too, right? Theatre and Dance? You guys used to get along so well. Now you think you're the only one who matters.
This is me breaking up with you. Yes, we can still be friends- I still technically need you to graduate- but I'm done worrying about you. I'm a senior now. About to graduate.
And... I have a disease. I don't want to hurt you, so you have to leave me before it gets too serious. I'm suffering from senioritis. I don't know how much longer ican hold on. I promised myself I would never have to deal with this but it's the denial that makes it all worse. It kills the best of us.
Homework, you've mostly been good to me. I love you. But you have to let go. I know you'll find some fresh, eager, naive little student who will be strong enough for you- it's just not me. I'm sorry if this hurts you. It hurts me too.
Goodbye- and I wish you the best of luck.
-Korra

The cast joke

That's all I feel I am these days. Look, Tiffany tripped and it was funny. Look, Tiffany faceplanted again. It was hilarious.
But if you tell a joke too many times, it's not funny anymore.
It's not like I trip on purpose, not like I enjoy being the most clumsy person alive. I'm sorry I sprained my ankle at a school dance. No, not dancing- walking. I'm sorry it never healed, and I'm sorry I sprained it again onstage the day before the spring musical opened. Yes, know it's not funny anymore. I know.

The one time I get a lead role, a chance to show that I deserve it- this happens. I misstep in the dance number, almost blacking out at the agony. I get myself offstage at the earliest convenient opportunity. I spend most of the next hour and a half crying offstage in pain and frustration because I know I've ruined everything. For myself and everyone around me. Except for those times I have solos- I limped on to sing those, trying not to pass out, ever trying to prove that I deserve it, that I'm worth it. In vain.

The joke's over, and I don't know how I'm going to make it through the rest of the show.
This is what happens when you have the nickname Biff.

Senior year in a nutshell

One guy told me I looked beautiful at prom
He wasn't my date

Next stop
Graduation
I mean, after the spring musical and the dance concert and AP tests and senior activities and tutoring and hopefully surviving and passing my classes and all that jazz

I napped for five hours yesterday
And still slept like a baby last night

I think I should wake up early tomorrow morning and actually look nice.
What? It's 7:15 already?
Well darn it. Leggings and a sweatshirt it is. Again.

I started crying when I realized how many friends I have to say goodbye to.

Decisions are hard.

I like it when my mom does my laundry.

Never have I ever

-been outside the country
-broken a normal bone (arm, leg, etc)
-had an older sister
-been in love
-ran away from home
- been tardy
-not cried at the end of Inside Out
-watched Lion King
-eaten sushi
-not been tired
-sluffed class
-dyed my hair
- accidentally laid in camel pee (oh wait, I've actually done that😂)

Sunrise, sunset

To the first grade crush:
I remember that we always played together at recess. We both scraped our elbows and knees a lot. It turned into a bit of a competition. Judging by the scars, I think I must have won.
To the second grade crush:
I remember when you found out I was moving you got me this big black teddy bear you stole from your sister. I don't know what happened to it.
To the third grade crush:
ah, Casper. Skipping third grade was actually quite fun together, don't you think?
To the fourth grade crush:
Your name is also the name of a state. I remember we played on the swings a lot. We played with the special needs class, which made me like you even more. We made up a game to see who could kick each other harder in the shins under the desk. I think we both lost. Also I was apparently a masochist.
To the fifth grade crush:
Ah the flirting that ensued. I really liked that you'd pretend to put your arm around me. Also, I liked that we held hands at that field trip during the movie. I didn't even remember that happened until just now.
To the sixth grade crush:
All I know is that you moved in and I liked you a whoooole lot. I heard people making fun of your name and I told them off. They gave me a funny look.
To the seventh grade crush:
We were set up by my best friend. Fun, awkward, nerdy, that's what we were. I guess you could say it was my first 'thing' because seventh grade plus relationships is like dividing by zero. I actually memorized Morse code for you. I don't remember it now.
To the eighth grade crush:
I see you in the halls every once in a while and you don't even say hi to me. Don't you remember that you used to walk me to class every day? Don't you remember that you gave me a huge hug in front of the science classroom door?
To the ninth grade crush:
Oh dear. This is when it started. And to be completely honest, it hasn't stopped. I sat in classes with you for years leading up to this moment without a second thought- and then BAM. One day, I got butterflies when I saw you. It doesn't help that you're a football player and I'm a nobody.
To the tenth grade crush:
Some guy told me you were gay. That made me really sad because I really liked you. You sat next to me in my drama class and when we watched Phantom, you sang along softly- oh, your voice. Then I found out you weren't gay. but you were a senior so I guess it was okay that you never noticed me. The ninth grade crush continued on.
To the eleventh grade crush:
We were dance partners, and that's exactly how it started. You liked a girl in Chamber choir and that's how I thought it would end, until summer started and all the sudden I was in my first relationship. It was all so new to me- kissing, holding hands, cuddling- that I didn't recognize the warning signs. Good thing the ninth grade crush continued on- neither guys actually asked me on a date, but at least one of them has opinions. And it's not the one who's on a mission now.
And finally-
To the senior year crush:
Oooooooh dear. This is a problem. The ninth grade crush continues on- I've realized that will probably still be a thing until I get married- but this other one is my issue. I'm a senior. Seventeen years old, wanting to date around but also partially wanting to be in a relationship just because hey, relationships are kinda fun. So when a 15-year-old comes along and sends my heart fluttering (AGAINST MY WILL, MIGHT I ADD), I am stuck. He won't be able to date until I'm in college. No. Bueno. NO BUENO. Eugh, that's so weird. But everything about him makes me wish he could have been born just a year or two later. I want to become as close of friends as possible, but seeing as I'm leaving in two short months, it's not fair to him that I feel this way. And I don't know what to do.
Anyways. ninth grade crush? you win the award for the longest-lasting. Basically you haven't yet done anything to thwart my affections towards you. Which is funny, because we have maybe spoken one word to each other in the last two years. But hi. How are you. I like you. You're really good at football and DAAAANG smart. Thanks for being the one constant in my life. ;)

Just... thanks.

I need people in my life like Em Pew. Like Kayla Edgel, like Andrew Rice. Like Emily Paulson, like Russell Davis, like Kelsea Kocherhans, like Clara Richardson,  Bailey Frampton, Daxton Glover, Celeste VanValkenburg, Harrison Fuller, Karen MacKay, Amy Miller, Miriam Edwards, Kimble Mahler, Stephen Brailsford,  Matthew Peterson,  Andralee Allen, Hailey Bennett. Jason Gibbons.  Mom. Dad.

I often forget that no matter where I am, I have someone I can call when I'm struggling. Someone who will see my hands shaking and quickened breathing, and envelop me in their arms. Someone who takes me by the shoulders in the midst of a panic attack, don't freak out when I slap them on accident (sorry, Andrew) and tell me I'm safe. That I'm not alone. I have so many someone's I can turn to in every circumstance, through thick and thin. Someone's I can support and comfort as well, who trusts me with their fears and insecurities. I truly hope they know how much I love and appreciate them.

Sometimes I feel invisible. Ignored. Lonely. This occurs because anxiety tells me no one loves me- because who would. Because someone who doesn't have a body and who wants everyone to be as miserable as he is tries every tactic possible to convince me that people hate me, that I'm worthless.

And when I finally open my eyes, I see you. I see the people supporting me from every side, even though many are struggling to stand themselves. I don't thank you as much as I should. I don't express to you what it means to me nearly enough. I am literally alive today because of friends, whom I consider family, like you.

From the bottom of my heart, through every cell and molecule and atom in my body, thank you. And I love you more than it's possible to describe. Please, don't forget that. Thank you for your hope. For your smiles. For everything.

Computer Language

Ones and Zeros, Zeros and Ones.

She's a One.
Oh, is she a One.
Surrounded by all her skinny One friends and all her amazing One guys.
Us Zeros hear what the Ones do for fun... the day after.
That fancy dinner party? No, it was nothing.
Just a couple of Ones hanging out.
Totally casual, in an extra fancy-bring-a-date-and-dress-up kind of way.
Nah, I don't care.
Yes, continue to talk about how fun it was and who's invited to the next one.
Zeros don't have ears.
Zeros don't have hearts.
Zeros are just big fat black holes.
Zeros are literally nothing.
Ones, they get together and equal themselves.
While Zeros, us lonely Zeros better stay away because all we're ever good at is
ruining things.
negating things.
dragging Ones down to my level.

but Ones and Zeros are just Ones and Zeros, right?
Just two numbers.
That's all.

that's all.