Life { Faith } Tea

and ramblings on everything in between

13 Going on 30

photo 1 (2)I found this bright red binder with Lisa Frank stickers on the front underneath my bed at my parent’s house. It’s full of poetry and short stories from 1996 and 1997, when I was 13 years old. This is when my love for writing started. I don’t remember what triggered it; all I know is I couldn’t get enough of it. I carried small notebooks with me everywhere and jotted down poems on the school bus. I remember sitting in my bedroom for hours listening to the radio and dreaming up stories.

I was curious to see what I would find in the binder. Who is this 13 year old girl and does she resemble the going on 30 year old she became?

I found plenty of poems about boys and breakups, and a very grotesque Halloween story that would have gotten me put into counseling if I wrote it as a 13 year old today. I definitely couldn’t spell, and I still can’t.

photo 2 (1)

Here are a few of the highlights. I left the poems in their original form, spelling and grammatical errors and all. And with the occasional made-up word for rhyming purposes.

My Sister and Me
Sitting here I realized how much
I know about our lives. Your mean,
I’m a wimp, your fabulous,
I’m a grimp.

Then I realized something
else no matter who you are
or what I do, I’ll always
have you, when it rains, when
I play games, to talk to, to
bother, and you’ll always have
me to yell at when I won’t
leave you alone, or when
I ask, “Is it ten yet?”
You’ll say “Shut up and
go to bed.”

******************************************************************************

That last line cracks me up. We shared an alarm clock and my sister always had it facing her bed so I couldn’t see it at night.

Here’s another:

Why?
Why do we worry about stuff
that doesn’t consern us? Why do
we care about other people?

Why?

Why do we want to know what
lies ahead? Why do we long to be
loved?

Why?

Why are we so different? Why are
we so alike? Why is everybodys
life different?

Why?

Why do we long to be free?
Why are we so trapped inside?

Why?

Why can’t we live how we
want to live? Why do we have
to reject those who aren’t like us?

Why?

******************************************************************************

I seem so young to be thinking about these things. Where are all the puppies and baby dolls and rainbows?

To Get Away…
I’ve got
to get away
from myself,
becuz’ I can’t
stand me.

I lost the love
of my life now
they expect me
to go on.

My cat died yesterday
and now a new ones
on the way.

I can’t go on I lost
my lizard and my
chain to my key.
Oh, where can they be?

But I must be bold
and carry on because my life
must be getting better by the day.

My love came back, my
lizards on the floor.
My chains in the
bedroom, my new
cat is so adored.

I told you life gets
better, so don’t give
up over little things.

******************************************************************************

Well, at least I incorporated a happy ending. I think I determined where the sentence breaks would be based on how it looked on the page. I guess I needed things neat and orderly even then.

And one more:

Time
Time does slip away
because just look at the day
how much you do so little time
if only it would just slow down.

We would have enough time
to spend it on what’s important and
what’s true.
We would pay attention to me
and you.

But you should make the most
of what you do because it
could be taken away from
you.

Even though there wasn’t
that much time to start
with.

******************************************************************************

Again, I was so young to be thinking of these things and contemplating time and life.

In the binder I also found a mission statement that was written for a junior tech prep program. To the question, “At the end of my life, what do I want to have accomplished?” I responded, “I want to have made the complete most of every moment of my life and not let a minute be wasted away.” I still think a lot about this today. I want to embrace life and continuously work through my bucket list instead of saying, “One day there will be time for that.” But time, it slips away.

What amazes me most about this little red binder is the passion I had for writing at such an early age, which has followed me to where I’m at today. It’s incredible to think that sometimes we know who we are before we know who we are.

Whatever your passion is – sewing, rock climbing, music, children – I hope you pursue it with all your heart. Maybe you’ll never make money doing it, maybe you’ll never become the best at it, but it will bring you to life if you let it glow inside of you. Howard Thurman once said, “What the world needs is people who have come alive.” Let us be a people who are brought to life each day by our passions.

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2 comments on “13 Going on 30

  1. Ham
    November 7, 2013

    The line where you said the alarm clock always faced your sister cracked me up. I never thought about it but I was in control even at a young age. haha

    • Ashlee
      November 7, 2013

      HA! You dominated that room! I remember how much you hated when I had to set the alarm for my 5:30 a.m. shifts at the nursing home. I promised myself I’d never have a job where I’d have to get up that early again. And look at me now…rising at 5:15 like a fool.

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This entry was posted on November 7, 2013 by in Writing and tagged , , .

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