it's 12:58 AM and all i need is glitter.

i don't need a sleeping pill.

i don't need bon iver. (he puts me to sleep all the time.)

i don't need a boyfriend.

i don't need warm milk.

i don't need a pillow.

i don't need straight As.

i don't need to go to first period tomorrow.

i don't need to graduate.

i need glitter. 

it's 12:54 AM and i need glitter.

it's 12:56 AM and my feet are cold but i don't need socks.

it's 12:59 AM and i've given up the search.

it's 1:03 AM and i'm still thinking about glitter.

it's 1:06 AM and i've found five glitter gifs.

it's 1:07 AM but i'm not thinking about glitter.

i'm thinking about you.

there's something in the air and it's not love.

its depression.

happy holidays.

michelle kwan remembers.

i remember passing notes in eighth grade. i remember playing hockey in seventh grade and loving it. i remember getting in trouble for chewing gum in sixth grade. i remember when preston harmon said the f word to the nicest sub. i remember dressing up as susan mcauliffe. i remember using my neighbor's old space suit that he wore for halloween in second grade. i remember that gap i had between my teeth. i remember losing my retainer. i remember my grandma's vegetable sweatshirt. i remember that my cousin wore a superman sweatshirt to her funeral. i remember watching him cry and as a little seven year old trying to copy. i remember always being on the bottom bunk. i remember trying to split the room in half. i remember mr. cherrington. i remember making a model of the world trade centers and using cotton balls. i remember being put in time-out for crying in preschool. i remember the jelly-fish video. i remember playing with my american girl doll. i remember doing a report on michelle kwan in third grade and making her hair out of black yarn, and putting extra glitter on her dress. 

i just remembered that no one remembers who michelle kwan is. 

maybe this will jog your memory...

an actual picture of my totally life-like
representation of michelle kwan.

for a boy who is too free

If you loved me, I think we'd be okay.

You would come home from work to find me making spaghetti for the fourth time that week.

But you wouldn't mind.

You'd say "honey, I love your spaghetti" even though I don't always cook the noodles right.

You would say words that I don't agree with but I wouldn't care because those words would be followed by "I'm sorry sweetheart, I love you" and a jaw clenching kiss.

You would teach me how to smoke a joint just so I could if I ever needed to.

You would read to me poetry in our bedroom, while I sit on the floor and you use the bed for a stage.

You would take me to poetry slams so that you could read to me in the right settings.

You would grow your hair out long, because you know I like to play with it.

You would take me bowling at midnight just because.

You'd tell me exactly what to order if I ever went into a bar, because you thought you would drive me to drink.

You'd get dressed up to go to Sunday dinners at my parents house even though the t shirt and jeans you were wearing before looked finer than any suit ever could.

You'd take me to church and hold my hand the whole time, even though you feel like you don't belong.

You would step out of the room every time I knelt down to pray because you knew I would pray for you.

You'd drive me up to the mountains on warm summer nights when the air is dry to show me all of your favorite constellations.

You'd paint pictures of the universe all over our house.

You'd never play that old piano that sits in our front room because it reminds you of your mother.

You'd ask me to read to you out loud while you paint because you couldn't choose between the two.

You'd tell me "I think this could be it, I'm not lying" even thought neither of us were sure you weren't.

You'd get mad at me sometimes for asking you to please listen to me, even though you heard every word.

Instead of telling me to stop talking too much you would interrupt me with a kiss that would leave my lungs empty of air and I would forget about anything I was saying earlier.

You'd fight with me over everything but it would be okay because after you would hug me and say "I'm sorry, I love you" in between more world shattering kisses.
You'd hate how much I pray.

You never liked how tight that suit fit around your shoulders.

You hated leaving me alone in our room to pray, because you would worry about me going to sleep without you.

If you loved me, we could last a long time.

But you have a hard time committing to the commuter lane

So how could I expect you to commit to me?

I wouldn't.

watching parasailers.

this is where we'd sit for hours
and watch parasailers try to reach heaven.

how to write a blog post in 51 easy steps.

1. Open blogger.

2. Turn on some music.

3. Stare at the "new post" for 10 seconds.

4. Decide you should read some other people's, and then maybe that will help you get an idea.

5. Go to writersparis.blogspot.com

6. Read what others have written.

7. Feel upset because some other people are so dang good at being creative.

8. Quit for a while.

9. NAP TIME BREAK.

10. PIZZA BREAK.

11. Remember that you still have to write two blog posts.

12. Go back to the computer.

13. Stare at the blank post for a while.

14. Give up.

15. TWITTER BREAK.

16. INSTAGRAM BREAK.

17. Stalk that boy  who you think is hilarious and actually very beautiful.

18. Feel sad that you couldn't be a year older, and have graduated with him.

19. Regret that you never said anything to him.

20. Go back to your blank post.

21. Start typing.

22. Delete that last sentence that sounds weird.

23. PIZZA BREAK.

24. Wonder which you like more, pizza or that beautiful boy...

25. It doesn't matter, it's about the same anyways. 

(psh unless that boy tastes like pizza, i doubt it....)

26. Forget what you're typing.

27. Remember what you're writing about.

28. Go get something to drink.

29. Notice that spaceship magnet on your fridge, the one that you like to play with.

30. See if you can make it slosh around by opening and closing the fridge door really fast.

31. Say sorry to your mom for acting like a crazy person.

32. Back to the computer.
33. Decide you like your old background better.

34. TWITTER BREAK.

35. Try to remember if you have any other homework.

36. Give up trying to remember what homework you have.

37. Nod your head to the song that's on because it's your favorite.

38. Remember that you haven't danced in your room alone for a while.

39. DANCE BREAK.

40. Mom says its time for dinner.

(good cause you just burned a lot of calories dancing.)

41. DINNER BREAK.

42. Wash the dishes because you want to get on your mom's good side.

43. Back to the computer.

44. Focus.

45. Write some more about that beautiful boy/pizza.

46. Think about whether or not you should post a picture of said beautiful boy, so that everyone can know just how beautiful he is.

47. Decide that would be a dumb idea.

48. Post a pizza gif instead.

49. Re read post.

50. Say to yourself "this sucks but I have nothing else."

51. Post.


props to you if you actually read through that.

suzy e.

beautiful boys and pizza

I'm dumb.

Last year I had a crush on a boy.

A beautiful boy.

For the first half of the year I didnt know his name so I just called him "buttery-skin-curly-haired-kid" and let me assure you, his skin looked as smooth as butter and his curly hair was the hair of an angel.

I can count the number of times I spoke to him on one hand.

But I would need 18,943 people's hands to count the number of times I wish I had.

I swear nothing else has ever had this effect on me.

(Besides pizza. (Are you surprised? Didn't think so.))

He and pizza are neck in neck in the race for my heart,

But due to the fact that he is a lot farther north than I'd like,

I regret to inform you that pizza is winning that race.

We all have regrets but the regrets we regret the most have to do with people.

I regret not giving the $2 I had to the homeless guy I saw on Friday.

I regret being honest with my friend.

I regret not telling you that I think you're great.

I regret not telling that one kid who was sitting in front of me to shut up.

I regret not saying I love you to my sisters more.

I regret not saying anything to that beautiful boy.

But it's in the past.
I'm just going to have to get over the fact that I ruined my chance.
And hope that when the next boys comes along,
I'll be able to say that I like him more than I like pizza.


Suzy E.

grab your sharpie, lets get high

i forgot to get the blackouts from my journal, (yay.)
so i found a paper at home. and sucked at blacking it out.
i soon ran out of newspaper.
so i decided to make a poem using a poem,

(thank you robert frost.)

and my old AP lit summer poem packet.


side note***IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW MAKING A POEM OUT OF A POEM PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE BEEN EASY, BUT I MADE IT REALLY HARD.

nothing gold can stay,
susan e.

more on space

thispostisnotaboutspacecampanditsnotaboutbeingalone.
itsaboutme.
thispostisaboutmehavingareallybadday.



sojustaswordsneed          space


SODOI.


nothinggoldcanstay,
susane.

the college app feels

when i start thinking about college:

cause i get to move out

and have no curfew

but then i start filling out the application,

and they keep asking stupid questions like "what do you want to major in?"

and then its like "hey you have to write us three essays."

so me and my friends take a break, and then we start talking about how we get to be roommates

so i go back to the college application

and it says "put in all of your community service hours."

and then they're wondering if i'm married,

and then they want to know why i want to go to college,

and then i'm finally done!

and then its like "give us $40."

so i go to my mom,

she gives me $41 for my application and an ice cream.

and that's it.

and then my mom says "okay time for the next one."

yay college.

nothing gold can stay,

susan e.

i cry more than once a month.

hi. 

i've tried to tell you so many times. 

(yes, you.)

i've started typing, and i've written the phrase "i'm depressed" so many different times.

i've been wanting to tell you that i think i might be depressed for a long time.

but i can't get it out. 

i wouldn't even know where to start,

or what words to use.

and if i'm going to dedicate a whole post to how sad i feel,

then i can't make it beautiful.

because my pain isn't beautiful, right?

its awful.

i feel bad inside.

i feel weighed down.

i cry for no reason.

the only thing that makes me happy is sleep, but when i wake up i feel bad again.

normal girls only cry this hard once a month.

but i'm crying now,

and i know my tears are completely rational because i was PMSing last week.

how do i write my pain simply 

so that you'll see

just how complicated it is.

will you understand that i feel bad for feeling bad?

i don't even know what that means.

depression is a big word.

and it comes with a lot of baggage.

so i guess instead of telling you that maybe i'm depressed,

i'll just tell you that i feel sad a lot.

and i don't like it.

and no, don't worry i'll be fine.

but i'm crying for no reason.

and it's irritating as heck.

oh my gosh, i can't keep writing this. 

i think writing this is making me 69x more depressed than i actually am.

but here's the rest in a nutshell: i'm not going to cut myself because it would hurt and i'm  not dumb. 

i think i might be depressed, that's all.

okay. i think that's it.

nothing gold can stay,

susan e. 

this might be a love letter?

i think about you. more than i think about Montana.
i think about your fingers touching my face like a painter thinks about his paint brushes stroking an empty canvas.

and boy, i want you to paint me a picture.

         and i think i might have loved you once.
                    and idk if i still love you.
                              but i sure do love to remember you.

                  and we never took a picture together,
but do you know how many times i've pictured us together?


                                  i remember your broad shoulders. and i remember how you kept your hair short.

and the last time you saw me, mine was 8" shorter than usual.
but i hope you remember me with my long hair. 
it looked much better with that pink dress that i hate.

i hope you remember me the way i was when you

held me.

that girl wasn't sad all of the time.

she didn't stare at nothing for long periods of time.

she didn't use her middle finger for anything besides a place for her CTR ring.

she didn't stay out hours past curfew.

she didn't get grounded.

she didn't hate life.

                           i hope you remember me how i was gold.

                              i hope that golden girl isn't dead.

    i hope when you hold me again, i can remind you of how i was.

but mostly i hope you hold me again.
and maybe we can go to Montana together, sometime.

nothing gold can stay,

susan e.

nothing gold can stay.

i'm not going to dedicate this term to the death of my innocence because that sounds kind of dramatic and maybe a little slutty.

but i am dedicating the rest of this blog to growing up.

because that's what's happening. 

I'M GROWING UP.

i'm not going to be gold anymore.
i can't stop it. and as i get older i can't stay innocent.
or maybe i can.
but as of right now, 
with even the gold leaves falling,
and winter coming
---that prospect is looking very very grim.


so for now....

nothing gold can stay,
susan e.

a list of things to do before i turn 18:

• get kissed
• be knighted
• sneak out
• go streaking
• color my hair

you'd get it if you knew when my birthday was.

stay gold,

suzy e.

#confessionpost

i was 100% ready for thursday. the first real day of fall break. 
i got someone to cover my shift at work.
i told my mom my plan.
i was so ready for this.

you wanna know what i did?

i spent the day, alone, at home.
it was so great.

(you guys think i'm being sarcastic. (i'm not. *crosses heart and hopes to die*))

i had a good book. and i was grounded anyway. so i grabbed this chance to just stay home and do nothing.

i did this way too much as a tween. 
i spent too many friday nights and saturdays at home, 
reading a book, 
and regretting my choice of friends.

but what i did on this day was deliberate.
my mom asked me what i was going to do all day, and i said

"mom, i'm not going to put on a bra. and i'm also not going to do anything."

and when she asked me to fix the garage key-pad-thing--i didn't. 

frankly, i was shocked she even asked me. i told her i wasn't going to do anything.


i stayed home. and didn't hang out with my friends. i stayed home with my family, and shockingly enough--i enjoyed myself.



thats all.

stay gold,
suzy e.
the greaser.