Singin', Dancin', and Kissin' in the rain.

Provo, UT:
Weather:
Current Temperature: 70 F
Forecast (Tonight): Cloudy; 30% chance of thunderstorms.

30%.

A measly 30%. Oh gods of thunder and rain why curseth thou my existence on this earth?

                                            Rain is my ultimate favorite thing.

You can make street shadows
Or dance,
Or stick your tongue out (until you get a raindrop in your eye.)
You can scream when there is a huge clap of thunder
You can try to take a picture of lightening. (Which never really works).
You can imitate the final dance in Step Up. (Try. Try to imitate it)
You can ride your bike.
                                      You can stand in the gutter and float boats or rubber duckies in it.

                                                                 
                                                             You can KISS.

         Or. You can watch the weather report SAY it's going to rain, and watch out your window simultaneously, and be continually disappointed till 3 o'clock in the morning when you finally drift off to sleep.

Changes, Chances, and Unicorns.

Our lives are like a blank piece of paper.
          Given to us to become what we make of them.
Some people fold them into paper cranes,
                   Some people draw on them with watercolors,
                                                                          or pencils,
                                                                               or sharpies,
                                                                                  or crayons.
                                            Some people just leave them blank.

       All of these things make us who we are. Any mark, or action we do will change the picture.
               And at the end of every day, we have a picture to hang in our little "gallery of life".

And at the dawn of ever new day, we are handed a new piece of paper. 

And sometimes things happen and things appear on our paper that we didn't expect. 

Like coffee spills, or a paint splatter, or a hole. 

And we can choose to either let them be, crumple up the paper, and throw it away, 

or, 

We can make something beautiful out of it. 

The decision between these two choices determines our happiness. 

Changes happen. Accidents happen. Life happens. 

We can always change. Or remain the same. 

But at the end of time, when we look back at our "gallery", 

We will see either beautiful artwork, or a pile of crumpled up paper. 

Make your mark. 

Sinseriously,

Marina

Carry on

I thought that they would be here,
By my side,
My whole life long,
But now I know they won't abide.
Change had sung her song.

All 'round the world, they went away,
I am left alone.
But soft through yonder window breaks*,
A figure, towards me roams.

He motions me to follow,
As a skeptic, I resist.
He waves once more, and turns,
He takes me gently, by the wrist.

We walk across a barren land,
Till we reach some rows of chairs
With people sitting in them,
Heads in hands, and tear ducts bare.

The figure whispers quietly,
As not to disturb their sorrow,
"Here is where the lonely lie,
with no hopes of tomorrow".

"The same as you, Change sung her song,
Their past was swept away,
Discouraged, Sad, and hopeless,
It was here they'd rather stay."

"They'd given up,
When crumbled, their foundation of the past,
Not wanting to move forward,
Spells of reflection had been cast"

The figure straightened up and said,
"This fate's awaiting you"
I looked around and felt there
was something else for me to do.

I said to Him, "Is there something,
Other than all of this?"
He said, "Oh yes, but first,
We must travel through the mist"

He pointed down the road a ways,
I saw with eyes of wonder,
a cloud of smoke, black as the night
in dreams when I was younger.

"Through that?" I said,
"Is where a better future for me lies?"
He nodded, "yes", and we proceeded,
Into black and smokey skies.

We walked for miles,
Down into that dark and dreary waste,
 Until at last,
Fresh air was on my tongue to taste.

As we emerged, I realized,
 Upon a hill we stood,
A valley lay before us,
Far beyond, to see, I could.

I saw the road to travel by,
And so, continued onward,
Toward a village filled with joy and song,
I kept moving forward.

The town was called Opportunity,
Reached only be travels, far,
T'was infinite, when used correctly,
By hard work, and continuing on.

Upon arrival into town,
I noticed, by the road,
A wooden sign upon a post,
The words, worn, barely showed:

"Here lies the better future,"
For the few that, however long,
 have the courage to begin again,
The courage to carry on"

--M.R.

*Reference: William Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet Act ll Scene ll)

Little bit of a rough draft, if you have suggestions, I'm open to 'em. :)