if we never said hello

if we had never said hello to creative writing, whether it be the version I took in 8th grade from mr brooks, the facinating senior class I took as a junior, or the push my limits advanced one, then I wouldn't be able to say I like writing. 

one day I read a poem

no I can't tell you the name 

nor the victorious author 

but I can tell you it hit me

and I knew I could do the same thing

so little 8th grade me did

and did it again 

switched the format

changed the font

again

new topic

different pen 

fresh notebook

did it again 

it was almost like natural 

ya know, no effort 

mr brooks was pleased

it has been established that I could write

wasn't fantastic

but I could do it 

then a teacher thought I had the balls to read it in front of everyone?

nah nah nelson

im just a junior no way

who says my writings....

worthy

important

influential?

so of course

I read it to every senior

and psh it wasn't that scary

now old fart senior that just wants to graduate 

has mastered the idea that writings fun and I can stand up and slam my work anyday

give me a time and place 

I'll be there 

but somehow still needs a due date in order to get things done

and that's just me 

I'm sorry 

but out of all the classes I took

and man there was a lot

this one taught me almost the most

I learned how to speak 

speak up 

speak out 

speak for yourself 

speak to someone you don't know

speak under a fake name 

speak with 

speak alone 

and now I'm good at speaking 

with that talent 

im gonna speak a few last words

love you CW

thank you 

this is bye 

colby; noun- meaning honesty; and smiles

it seemed only fitting to start from the very first
very first time you clicked publish

i read all the words of that first post, but all i saw was honesty. many times writers get scared of something they wrote because they think people wont get it, wrong grammar, or that it doesnt really make sense. but you have no fear of that. you thought a line in your head and freak you wrote it down. ya there was a line that i have no idea how to connect with, and another where im not quite sure what it means, but i felt it. at first i didnt know what it was, but really it was easy to see, it, like the it,  was just honesty.

great first impression wow.

its hard to find WHY we write. does it make us feel better? gets our twisted thoughts out? because were good at it so why not? to get ladiezzz? none and all are correct. but many would agree that it helps to know what youre writing for. your third blog post ever said what. who. when. and who again. you write for. by which is helping us all find our own muse.

your muse(s) sound beautiful.

one of my beyond favorite things is finding patterns in authors. things they bring up often. i like to think of these things as their home, so to speak.

yours is alaska. i love alaska.

colby youre not a "nose in the sky" jock, so that stereotype was never meant to be broken by you. youre not a "skirt shorter than her temper" cheerleader and frankly not a chick, so youre fine. youre colby. you literally say hi to people in the hall that i never even noticed were standing there. your writing makes me feel like i just took a deep breathe of fresh air, it notices all sides, doesnt just scream towards to idea that we should all be sad about our lives, and writing grey depressing poetry because thats whats popular. no. you smile at all and know that life sucks for everyone, but 'hella dope' days are here too and ahead. 

very refreshing.

dont ever apologize for being a tourist for a little, we cant get comfortable with anything without first being uncomfortable.

hardest things to read, are the ones about things that high school students shouldnt have to worry about. we shouldnt be incharge of figuring out why kids our age dont want to play with us on earth anymore, and its not our fault when they dont. the honesty behind this post is beautiful colby. its okay to feel things and sharing what you feel is always frightening. especially about something so personal. and you did it, again with no fear, head first, without a helmet. 

youre trully a writer colby.

i believe writing is supposed to make people rethink what theyve always known, or to believe something without thinking at all. i didnt use one brain cell figuring out that your comparisons and images that become so vivid in my head as i read are killer. was easy, beyond easy to see that your soul is yellow because of your smile and the happiness you wish everyone could feel. you made me rethink how i think about the 'deepness' of life. love the way i saw question marks, making me reread some of your words inorder to really get what you said. thats when i learned the most.

secret is ive always valued your writing opinion

been keeping tabs on your blog for a while now

12/10

thanks for the opportunity to analyzes your blog, the pleasure was mine.
 xox   

videos are scary man

soul

i dont have a soul

sometimes people make you want to be a better person
they give you a glimpse of
what your 'soul' looks like

these people have somewhat
sparked
my nonexistent soul

one: you have a tough life, no one would know. i know. yet youre the most clever and happiest person ive ever seen. you see the awesome in everyone; you showed me how to love all, to take my golden yellow eyes, dust them off and see all for what they should be seen as.

two: taught me that theres no bad people, just people that do bad things. you also taught me that i say that too much. soul was a blank emotionless face, emotions are okay. thanks for letting me hide them from everyone but you.

three: youre related to me, my soul cries sometimes. you showed me that tears speak louder than words, especially when words cant.

four: you are completely brilliant. ill never be as accepting as you have become. youre chiller than chill and sometimes it frightens me how much love you feel for everyone, even those your soul doesnt even know. you created my non-soul dad.

five: you act like me, well you act like number three. it freaks me out, you terrify me in the way that you can always read my mind, even when my soul hasnt registered what its feeling yet. no ones supposed to know what im thinking, im unreadable, so kind of despise you for reading me. you touched my soul, cant put the words together on how, but i know you did.

six: mountain ridge was our home, that piece is always part of the soul. you made it fun and taught me to get passionate about things and to share that passion with everyone.

seven: your goals are way too high, and you sometimes get worried over nothing. but you taught me that not everything is "ehhh its fine" stress is healthy, good for the soul, and runs our lives. my goals are getting bigger.

my soul has been seen by these people
they created my soul
but so did little people

number eight is that kid that i can never remember his name,
but he doesnt care, we say hi to each other anyway

nine is teachers that care

ten the way my mom cries, then becomes a boss a$$ and brushes herself off

eleven books

twelve you sit by me in math, i force you to stay after with me a lot. youre cute as a button and nice to everyone.

thirteen that lady that works at roxberry and makes my smoothie just right

fourteen sun dresses

fifteen chick that i barely know but always asks for advice

souls are delicate,
thanks for making mine
its not done yet
never will be complete
but the pieces i find along the way
are the best ones

xox

most delicate, yet golden question

what does love mean?

"when my grandma got arthritis, she couldnt bend down anymore to paint her toenails. so my grandpa paints them for her."
rebecca age 8

its in the sunrise i watch on the way to school
the way children think "big kids" are so cool

"when someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. you just know your name is safe in their mouth."
billy age 4

the morning smiles
and long nature miles

"love is what makes you smile when youre tired."
terri age 4

its in "how was your day?"
sometimes smells like flowers in may

"if you want to learn how to love better, you should start with a friend you hate."
nikki age 8 

looks best in blue
and will always be the first to tie your shoe

"love is when you tell a guy you love his shirt, then he wears it everyday."
noelle age 7

love makes your eyes gleam
shows that dramatic times are better than they seem

"its when a little old man and a little old woman are still friends even though they know each other so well."
tommy age 6

in the words 'we made it'
followed by days where all you do is sit

"when my puppy licks my face after i left him alone all day, thats love."
mary ann age 4

its made of closed mouth smirks
and that old piece of soul that just lurks 

"you really shouldnt say i love you unless you mean it. but if you do, say it a lot. sometimes people forget."
jessica age 8

love is four letters just like, kiss keep feet ring and pond
yet you feel it somewhere, not here, but far beyond.

maybe we knew cinder

my mind just read a poem 

while my body was in a car 

driving home 

mind felt things

thought in ways it hadnt

before

was touched like no other 

when I finally looked up 

out the windshield again

i felt it 

the connection left

between my teenage brain and adult words

and maybe i didnt quite understand all the big ones 

and maybe i read line 14 slowly even though it was written fast 

maybe i forgot to pause at each comma 

and i wouldve said 'found' where you said 'lost' 

and maybe i wouldve signed xox 

but we're all writers 

i felt strange when the moment with my poem was gone

like when it struck midnight and cinderellas dress vanished 

but she didnt know the shoes would stay 

she had no idea that she didnt need a pumpkin or mice to be important 

because we're all writers 

maybe cinderella was a dude 

maybe the prince was life

and life looked scary because he was so fancy and always ready to take on the next task but cinder wasnt 

cinder was scared 

you couldnt see it though 

cinder always sang happy things

not even the mice wouldve guessed that cinder was sick 

if the mice couldnt tell, how would the prince had known to go easy on her

to chill out 

maybe give cinder the week off 

and we all know how it ends

the glass slipper broke and prince life wasnt even there to see 

but the fairytale was wrong

weve all be deceived 

life and cinder never lived happily ever after 

they never found the second slipper

maybe we can 

(tg) 

when i was 16

"stay weird... pass this message on to the next guy..."

when i was 16 i wore pastel pants even though my mother told me they were ugly
i wanted to fit in
when i was 16 i heard the words    drugs   crack   high   drunk   and blocked them out because "im above people like that"
when i was 16 i believed that college was ages away
when i was 16 i was twelve. the sky was still blue, bubble gum lasted longer, and a tank of gas took you a little farther.
when i was 16 i thought less
got deep never
and wanted to be it all.
i laughed more than i shouldve, took selfies with strangers and kissed the moon twice a month.
when i was 16 i ran from the rain
and stood up for the moment.
when i was 16 i cared about washing my hair everyday and sparkly shoes.
when i was 16 we invited boys over for board games, and when it was their turn became oblivious when they "moved"
i ran for president
sassed my father and kissed seniors bums.
when i was 16 i spoke like a robot and learned quickly how to charge my battery
but when you have too much charge and not enough battery the source explodes
im the source
when i was 16 i wore pastel pants and exploded.
learned a lot
ran fast
and chewed bubble gum

xox

no offense

i love these high school halls
and to those that 'hate school' and 'count down' to graduation out of 'joy'
poop on you
                               no offense
always been fond of the idea that were all stuck in one place
together
everyday
forced to communicate and like each other

as of late
gossip has become a bore 
and the hallways are getting squishier

the vending machines are getting farther away 

and teachers are getting more oblivious. 

the square on my graduation hat keeps getting bigger. 

and the list of things ive  touched has shortened. 

so to all seniors who are ready for the bitter sweets 

and all the "I promise we'll stay in touch" 

go out even when tired 

eat even when you know it's going straight to your thighs 

kiss even if he's not funny 

rollerblade into a tree

fail a test you knew every answer to 

wear leggings even though dress code 

bowl 10 gutter balls in a row 

and 

touch everyone with words. 

cause thats all students 

friends

and teachers will remember. 

not how dope you looked in the hallway. 

Xox 

glass

it hurt when i stumbled across her
she was like broken glass all along the floor
but it was beautiful
and my curiousity got the best of me
i remember looking at her
all i could see was the light 
she had an insane look of desperation
you could almost feel it
and yet her eyes were still glowing
like all the life had been sucked out of her 

yet she wanted to put life in everyone elses 
i wanted to pick up her pieces
i wanted to put her back together
and so i tried
i really did
i got a little cut along the way
the more i tried to fix her
the more she fixed me
i never saw her not happy
everytime i made her laugh i wanted to make that happen forever
she started to get better
eventually she was put together enough to get up and walk away
but she didnt hesitate to take me with her
and ive been sitting here where i first found her
wondering if the pieces left on the floor
were hers or mine
i should probably get up.

round two

when nelson in creative 1 said write about love 

i was distraught 

that point of my life i had only had a crush on a boy for a month 

and was sure i didnt love him. 

i became disappointed with myself for not having some dramatic love story that had never been told. 

sat with my mind open 

trying to find words to exaggerate my previous so called lovers

taking any desperation to sound interesting. 

read through blog after blog 

heartbreak

betrayal 

butterflies

xoxoxs 

then it clicked 

the light bulb in my junior year mind, was finally lit. 

i was surrounded by love

and was yet diving into my thoughts to try and find it. 

what was meant to be found was

the way my father looks at me when he says bye for work 

love the mountains show by merely being beautiful

passion in my friends eye when they talk about what they enjoy 

the love sister shows in her tears at thought of me moving out 

missing feeling ill get after graduation 

excitement when college mails a letter with my name on it

love you can hear in laughs

naps bring love

feeling ice cream gives the stomach 

warmness of a blog post comment

its all around. 

doesnt always come in kisses

or with scent of roses. 

sad i missed the meaning during round one

but can only go up during round two. 

xox 

k15s my class

teacher: could you please tell the class why you're so late?

me: someone told me to go to hell 

me: couldn't find it at first 

me: but now im here 

*drops mic 

year clock

8:00am was the time we started the end. 9:30 i was changed to

an adult,

and 10:23 we became wildcats for the night.

11:04 brazil became more populated, but at 11:05

this poem turned out to be about balloons.

because balloons live their whole lives

slowly being blown up to their potential. to soon

fly away and see the world. 

yet this isnt a poem,

and its not about balloons.

11:20am you joined adulthood too. then at 12:16 

gma passed slowly as she fell asleep, like a tiny angel.

her balloon saw heaven that night.

soon at 12:25 christmas's in the "time of our life" years came to an end.

1:00 the year we graduate came to an open.

then at the strike of 1:07 

i cried real tears of happy/sad

cause that high school musical song 'were all in this together'

will soon become merely a cell phone ring tone.

later at 1:26pm i forgot what this nonpoem was even about.

so now its about sunrises, because 

at 1:31 the pink color followed me to school.

in actuality were all waiting for 2:14pm cause 

xoxox's exchanged between sophomores give our minds more joy than reality tv. 

i can almost see 3:00 where we do 

something dumb almost making our balloon pop,

but when 3:08 is here she'll fly with us.

and sometime around 4:00 we'll all join

husky/grizz hands and cry as the ending starts the beginning.

then precisely at 5:29pm we'll see that 

this nonpoem

means nothing and was really just about a balloon,

the shade of sunrise pink 

running away from a clock.

xox