Have you ever looked at an old photo of yourself? Do you look at the different haircut

you had or maybe the missing scar on your face? Do you notice the difference between

that old you and the person you are right now? One is younger, more naive, while the

other is older and wiser. That is the difference. See, you changed. You became in a sense, a

completely different person in those few short years. It’s like you went to bed a nine-year-

old and you woke up a nineteen-year-old. In the blink of an eye, you changed into a

completely different person.

So, do people change? You tell me.

Lost.

No coordinates.

Nothing.

She vanished into a Donnie Darko reality with wild

pikas and downtown streets and injured people.

But I do know the last things she did.

She drove home from the mountains,

with plants in her veins and tears in her

eyes. She tried listening to songs but it

didn't help. Walking was harder, she had

become the injured people. Beaten by time

once again. You will baby sit the dog, they

said. You will baby sit the dog and stay here,

just like the dog, and you will not drive us out

of our minds again, you will not drive, period.

She disapered slowly, going away piece by piece,

frame by frame.

But I do know the last things she saw.

She watched as the light turned from red to

green, she watched people without homes wait

for breakfast, she watched a fan turn around and

around in a room. She saw a game on tv that many

were watching, she saw a chest with the treasure of a

heart, she saw herself leave the room and never come

back.

She left herself at home, wherever that was, running

away from safety as fast as she possibly could.

Melted like ice in a cup of water. Memories leaned back

in their seats and sighed, fire works went off in the brain,

music, so much music to put faces into, do I want you to

be happy? good. looks like it should be cold outside. do you

believe in time travel? Donnie, wake up Donnie. Huh. That

was savage. Best conversation I've ever had with her, my mom.

She chose to disconnect from herself entirely. Log off of her existence

and start a new account. Hmm, what to call this one. Jaguar roaming

wild, stay on the right side of the road? No. The light is green, why are

you coming to a stop? Perhaps. And it's yes in here, not yeah, come on.

Her soul has been forgotten in the corner, nobody came to save it from

burning out. Nobody saw it. Nobody could.

Push the envelope, I dare you.

One more time and you'll lose yourself.

The delete button pulled her in close, holding her being just tight enough,

just strong enough, and she vanished.

Lost.

No coordinates.

Nothing.

Jamie Ashworth cannot be found.

Sign Outside a Church: If you don't teach children to obey God and the Scriptures, the devil will teach them science, evolution, sexuality, questioning, liberalism, tolerance, freethinking, an open mind, freedom from predjudices, balanced thinking, gender equality, and yes, skepticism!

My response: The devil sounds like an awesome teacher!

#atheism #comedy #religion #criticalthinking

Flitter~

Zooming..rushing by

A little unsteady

O, mhm.

Did you see that?

Look, high above

Too late

It’s now gone

Thoughts bubbling

Rapidly, hurriedly~

So out of control

Bam!

Ideas churning,

turning, spinning

When do they even begin?

Beats me.

Does it have a pause button?

That I have no clue.

Oh, that only means

Only one thing~

It’s a match~

Burns so bright

It might burn out-

Maybe..

Then again~

Surely, it may be a force_

One that can’t really be (just)

Pulled, or pushed- in any direction.

#FLUTTER

pitter patter

raindrops falling

the sky splits in two

as lightning flashes

one second

two

three

and thunder crashes.

I am the wind in the trees

I am the force that rustles its leaves

I am the voice that whispers through its branches at night

Whispering divine secrets 

Blowing them all around~

No one can stop my breeze

As I carry gold and debris

And meanwhile, I deliver my message to all of humanity.

I am unrestrained, like the wind.

And nowhere, ever, will I be pinned.

I write to fly,

to soar and dip

or float away

on a sailor's ship

to swing through trees

and swim with ease

a moment to sieze

time to freeze

but most of all

(forget the jewels)

I write to

break the rules >:)

My soul slumps to the floor, my spirit sags with it.

The Great Depression is happening all over again,

inside my chest, my fingers limp with stress, it hurts

to even move. Every attempt is painful. Every step.

Bones of my spine break every time I change direction.

A physical compass. Don't turn that way. Go this way.

This way. Remember what happened the last time you

turned that way? You fell.