“The world,” he said, “is cruel. It throws you around until you can’t get up anymore. It makes you sick. It takes the ones you love. It leaves you messed up and alone.”

“The world,” she said, “is beautiful. It offers you joy where you least expect it. It offers you places you’ve never been. It delivers people into your life every day.”

“Time,” he said, “works against us. There is no time to accomplish anything significant. There is not enough time to live life happily and successfully. Time is worthless.”

“Time,” she said, “makes us succeed. It makes us rush to do the impossible for fear of failure. There is not enough time, but we can make each moment count.”

“Pointless,” he said, “There is no point. When we die, we leave. No one is going to miss me or remember me in five years. I’ll be gone and that’s it.”

“Pointless,” she said, “is a worthless term. You want me to believe that I’m an accident? We are creations, able to make this life count. We are able to work for the betterment of the world. We are able to believe in something higher than us.”

“I,” he said, “am messed up. I’ll never make anything of myself. I’m always going to screw everything up. I have always been and will always be alone.”

“I,” she said, “believe in you even when you don’t. I know that you’ll do wonders for the world if you let yourself. I have always been and will always be here.”

Part 1 (http://thisisjelli.tumblr.com/post/5307064830/argument)
Part 2 (http://thisisjelli.tumblr.com/post/19081910678/argument-ii)

I could listen to this song over and over. I love it. The harmonies. The words. Everything about it. Sigh.

(Source: carleyanna2)

Everyone is talking about summer. Summer is upon us. Freedom. I still have a week and a half of classes/finals. I can’t wait for freedom. I can’t wait to sit and do nothing. I can’t wait. But as I sit here and think about what I can’t wait for, I’m also thinking about everything that I am going to miss about this place. Athens is my home. As much as I never expected to say that, it is. I love it. I’m going to miss the coffee shops and musicians playing on the street. I’m going to miss chicken and waffles and Goodfellas at 3 am. I’m going to miss Insomnia Cookies’ deliciousness. I’m going to miss my friends. I’m going to miss all of the seniors who are leaving. I don’t want to leave but I do. And then I think about how this is my last actual “summer.” At least, that’s my plan anyway. I’m not planning on going home next summer if I can help it. Internship in Europe and then traveling is on my list. That’s a crazy thought. I know I plan things way too far in advance, but I have to. In an effort to keep me sane these next few days, I’m going to compile a list of daily do’s.

Tonight: Study for econ exam. Write bone marrow story. Start art story.
Tomorrow: Bone marrow due. Lunch with Carolyn at 1. Looking at future houses/apartments with my future roomies at 3:30. Essay for Philosophy and Music due Thursday. WRITE. Also, art story due Thursday. Finish.
Thursday: Essays and stories due. Turn in. All-staff postie meeting. Going to be a sad night.
Friday: Last Front Room. Also, a sad night. Purchase Tostitos and salsa for Saturday. Start studying for all five finals.
Saturday: Study. Sweeney Todd at 7:30 followed by an OC marathon with the girls. But in between, must attend the Post Toasties in honor of the final Post gathering. I am going to miss my seniors!!
Sunday: Study
Monday: Phil 101 final. Music final. Reschedule Phil 120 final since it is the same night.
Tuesday: Study
Wednesday: Econ final
Thursday: Pols final. Pack up.
Friday: Head home for the summer.

Silence. All she heard was silence. She held her breath because she didn’t want to disturb the peace. This was it. This was what he had told her about.

“One day you’re going to be okay. You’re going to realize that the earth keeps turning. You’re going to look at the stars and count them. You’re going to realize that that’s impossible, but I promise I’ll be counting them with you. Don’t give up, no matter what happens. You’re going to find peace. The sky will look bluer, the air will feel fresher, the rain will feel cooler, and all will be better.”

This was peace. This was knowing that life wasn’t over. This was coming to terms with everything that had happened. This was coming to terms with everything that would ever happen. This was believing in herself. This was knowing she was better, stronger, unafraid. This was knowing she deserved better. This was getting back up. She looked up at the sky and started counting. “One. Two. Three. Four.” And in the back of her mind, she heard his voice.

“We do things because we don’t want to hurt people, but we always end up failing. Some time or other we lie. Sometimes we run. Sometimes we hide. I can’t hide from you. I don’t want to lie to you. I just can’t do this anymore.”

She had to keep counting. “Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Twelve. Twelve.” She stopped. That was their number.

“You ready for this? We’re going to run, and on the count of twelve we jump.” “Twelve? That’s a stupidly long number, why?” “Because it took me twelve days upon meeting you to finally ask you out.”

She smiled. No. He lied. She began to count once more. “Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen.”

“What do you mean can’t do this anymore? You said you’d always try to make me smile. Always?” “I can’t explain it, I just can’t.” She turned on her heels and walked away. He never bothered to follow.

She stopped counting and just stared. Peace. This was peace. She’d found it, just like he said she would. He might have lied about everything else, of that she could never be sure. But this, this peace she’d found? Well, he was right. She’d find it. And all would be better.

I’ve been thinking lately about everything I have planned in my life. I schedule weeks in advance, and for the most part, things go the way I plan them. When they don’t though, I get frustrated and scared that everything is going to fail. But that’s just the thing. Life happens, and we can’t control everything. The way I see it is that if it’s supposed to happen it will. Call it fate or a God or whatever you want, but I believe in it. I believe that we have to work towards something, and we’ll just know. I feel like if I was on the wrong path, things wouldn’t fall into place. I can’t control a lot in my life, but I’m not going to let control go from what I can. And then I am going to deal with what I can’t. As my tumblr title says, “we control the chaos.” Those lyrics speak a lot to me, and to finish them off, “we control the chaos in the back of our minds. Our problems seem to small, but they grow on us like gravity, and gravity still makes us fall.” I’m just going to keep getting up.

There once was a little girl who dreamt of Neverland. She dreamt of a sparkling sea and dense jungle surrounded on all sides by sandy beaches. She dreamt of a blue lagoon with mermaids who combed their hair with shells and sang songs that drifted in the wind. She dreamt of bonfires whose smoke rose and curled in the air, taking her fears away from her. She dreamt of soaring through the sky and touching clouds and coming close to the stars at night. The ticking of a clock meant that an alligator was coming. Her friends would dance and explore and play games day in and day out. Her only fear was a group of silly pirates who could never hurt her. 

One day, the girl couldn’t see Neverland anymore. She closed her eyes, and it was gone. She opened her eyes and faced reality. There was a polluted lake and open field. She saw park benches where people sat and gossip soared into the air. She struggled to breathe through a constant hazy fog. She saw birds soar through the air and airplanes cross the sky. The ticking of a clock meant that she had a deadline to meet and precious minutes were being wasted. Her fears were all she knew. There were those of failure and those of people with knives and guns that would kill her. There were those of lies that could hurt her. There were those that would never leave her.

Then one day, she met someone special. He opened her eyes to life. Suddenly, the water was bluer, the sky clearer, songs more in tune, laughter more reasonable, and a smile more real. The ticking of a clock meant another happy second. The world was her adventure, and she just now realized it. But just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. She worried that her new Neverland would disappear, but she found that it was still there. The world was still turning, and she was still living. 

She looked around her at the beauty that surrounded her and took it in. This new Neverland she lived in was hers, and it was real. He had helped her find a way to remember what Neverland meant. And now, when she closes her eyes, she sees the old Neverland of her past. She revisits the pirates and mermaids and thick jungle paths. She soars through the sky and hears the ticking of the alligator. And on occasion, she sees the boy who made her find the real Neverland. Now when she smiles, it’s real. It’s all real.