3000

According to my stat counter, I started this blog in May of 2008. I'm not quite sure why I did, and I'm not quite sure what compelled me to come back, in November of 2013. I wrote sporadically up until mid-2010, and then just stopped. Oddly enough, I continued to get page views, from random places I'd linked the url, or perhaps intrepid Internet trekkers. Truthfully, I think tumblr happened, and I just lost interest in writing when I could instead reblog pretty pictures and spew random text snippets in an attempt at humor. In November of 2012, my senior English class was in the thick of W's, our creative writing assignments, that all seniors do in senior English at my school. Oddly enough, I enjoyed writing, and found I wasn't bad, according to my teacher and my classmates. As always, praise breeds a need for more praise, and a return to the blog felt like a lovely way to get more attention for my writing. (Make of that what you will, I'm a selfish human being.) Initially, I just posted assignments straight from my class (they're tagged "w" if you want to read them!), but the constant stream of writing about certain subjects, or just about My Life tired me out. What if I wanted to write poetry? That'd make a good blog post... and so it happened. Three thousand hits later, I have a Real Life Blog.

Moments

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In between moments
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The clock thunks
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Arms slamming into place like lead doors
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Measuring out my time
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When thoughts drift between seconds
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Before the hand comes down
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And slices through my head
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Breaking my coherence
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Into so many
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Shattered
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Diamonds
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Time Is Stretchy?

Chemistry class:
I look at the clock. We've taken two pages of notes, and it feels like our hour-long period should be almost over. Lies. It's only been seventeen minutes. Class drags on forever, at least two hours by my internal clock, but the outer clock says it's only been an hour. How is this possible?

Spanish class:
A class I usually do not enjoy. The teacher is usually late, and today is no different. My internal clock is set to accommodate that. We're rolling right along, going through the homework, and I glance at the clock, thinking that it's been about fifteen minutes. Surprise surprise! It's been more than a half an hour! In a class that usually drags! Will wonders never cease.

Time is stretchy. That is my theory, stolen from Terry Pratchett. If you want to know more, read Thief of Time. It's an amazingly mind bending book, with monks, time travel, the Death of Rats, and Death's granddaughter (named Susan, thank you very much.) Oh yes, and a flying horse named Binky (owner: Death).