this is my story, and i'm sticking to it

i remember going camping in tinny flats with all my cousins, and always getting campsite 15
i remember late nights around the campfire, and long hikes to the bathroom
i remember crying when i saw a racoon for the first time, and not sleeping at all that night.

i remember the first time i went to the beach and my dad told me that the water tasted like cotton candy
i remember when my sister insisted that sharks could in fact walk on land.
i remember when my first sand castle went out with the tide, and took my shovel with it.

i remember having bath robe fashion shows in my unfinished basement with my sisters.
i remember when my brother pulled the head off my only ken doll, after using it to clean the toilet.
i remember when i finally got my own room, and getting scared to be alone at night.

i remember when i used to act the same at school as i did at home, and the friends who stuck by me.
i remember how the kids would tease me for being weird.
i remember the first time i rode a bike without tipping over, and how free i felt.

i remember totally biffing on a scooter, and knocking out a few of my teeth.
i remember the long wait at the ER and the cold ice pack they made me put on.
i remember the surgeries that followed, and the new pair of glasses.

i remember the summer before seventh grade when i did something to make me happy, not someone else.
i remember the feeling i had after i played my first softball game.
i remember not caring how bad it hurt to get hit with the ball, because i wanted to be where the action was.

i remember how weird i was in the eighth grade, and wonder how anyone could have liked me.
i remember looking at my closet and only seeing tye dye shirts, mens sweat pants and converse.
i remember the first time i saw my parents fight.

i remember the only time i didn't burn my tongue on hot chocolate, was when i left it in the fridge too long
i remember the only year of my life that i didn't want to be a cosmetologist.
i remember the awkward feeling when my neighbor found his older brother dead, and had to live with us for two weeks.

i remember the naive feeling of invincibility on the first day of ninth grade.
i remember the first time i met my best friend jean, and going to her house on friday the thirteenth.
i remember having my first kiss on the american fork baseball field.

i remember my first art class, and feeling so inferior to every one.
i remember when i actually started to get friends, and they stayed
i remember when my friday night schedules consisted of more than hanging out with my mom

i remember starting high school and being so excited to graduate.
i remember the first math teacher that actually understood why i struggled.
i remember wearing a peacock feather dress to my first school dance, and feeling like a princess.

i remember taking my first and only ACT.
i remember how fast the time went by, and how i got 10 points below all three of my sisters.

i remember when i got braces because my teeth were straight, but not straight enough.
i remember the day my coach told me that i was good enough to play college softball.

i remember seeing the orange sky when my neighbors house burned down on my birthday.
i remember when my friend told me she showed me why she always wore long sleeves.
i remember when i hated going to school and skipped every assembly.

i remember waking up for the first day of senior year, and only going because my brother needed a ride.
i remember cringing every time i heard the word college.
i remember being so terrified at the thought of ever moving out.

this is my life, and i love it.

i went on a trip to paris france

it was one of those trips that you don't really want to go on, but your parents bought the "non refundable" plane tickets.

it was one of those trips where you are going and going, with no time in between to wrap your head around everything that has happened.

it was one of those trips where no one could understand me, not even my family. their brains were clouded by cocktails, croissants, and caviar.

it was one of those trips that you really can't be yourself, because who roams the streets of paris in sweats and a sweatshirt?

it was one of those trips that you can't say what you need to, because tourists can only "ooh" and "ahhh"

it was one of those trips that you have to look back on to find the joy.

it was one of those trips that you were glad you went on, but you would be okay if you never went back. ever.

because it was one of those trips, i'll stick with paris idaho for now.

shout out to steven o. jordan

a list of 21 things i love about your blog

1. your posts are always real.
2. your blog has more than just the weekly blog post.
3. you tell it like it is
4. your tab with all those super deep questions is unreal
5. your quotes tab is so inspirational
6. your posts are long, but worth reading ever word.
7. your first post "dear mormons" was unbelievable.
8. how you chose your pen name
9. you show all sides of yourself
10. i can tell how much time you take
11. you use lots of lists
12. this quote "I feel like I'm Prometheus chained to the rock waiting for my heart to get torn out everyday just hoping that the eagle is still full off my heart he ate yesterday and he lets me just keep it one day to see what it feels like."
13. your music goes perfect with every post
14. you express the sad things, without being to depressing
15. all your posts give me motivation to be better
16. your background picture
17. how you use different fonts, sizes, and colors in almost every post. (it makes them more memorable)
18. your writing relates to every one. happy, or sad, boy or girl.
19. your writing is like a punch in the gut. (in a good way)
20. your post about the lessons you have learned.
21. your reveal.

lastly, thank you.
thank you for all the effort that you put in
thank you for your words of wisdom
for making me think
for being memorable
thank you for being real.

i'm sorry this post doesn't do you justice, but still

thank you for everything.

■■■■■ out

                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                
                                                

            hope                                

                                    will        

                    restore                     

      the                                       

                             breaks             

                                                
                                                
                                                

                          within                

                                                

                                                

            these                               

                              walls             

                                                

                                                

this is me jumping out of my plane

it's thanksgiving morning, my mom is sick in bed, 

and my dad and little brother are nowhere to be seen.

i really should be getting ready for the day, but i hardly slept last night.

i've had a reveal post written, but i started reading other peoples reveals,

and i got scared. not sure if mine was good enough.

so i'm writing a new one.

my brother in law told me that the worst part of sky diving was the jump.

he said once the jump was over, 

he could finally start take in the beauty of everything around him.

this is me jumping out of my plane, 

in hopes that i can begin to fully take in the full beauty of the people around me. not just their words. 

 

before i tell you who i am, there are a few things that you must know.

i am the second youngest of five.  

i am an over thinker. i will change my test answers more times than your heart beats in a day.

i care about people. if i see anyone crying, stranger or friend, i will cry with them, and for them.

i am not a morning person. 

i don't mind school, this year at least. 

i love everything to do with the outdoors. especially camping and hunting.

i am a future snow college softball player.

i have the cutest niece in the world.

you probably haven't ever heard of me, and i'm okay with that.

i am painfully shy at school, and at home, i'm the family comedian.

as a child i was terrified of the song bah bah black sheep.

i chopped my hair in january, and i regret it every day of my life.

i prefer day old spaghetti over freshly cooked.

i am always looking for new music. 

my pen name has no back story.  

i can't bowl to save my life.

i absolutely love life.
__________________________________________________________________







my name is erin brady not ella erson

sometimes words are more powerful than modern medicine

she was born in oklahoma to a teen mom,

but ink marks on a paper gave her a new family. 

 now she would have ten siblings,

 three brothers and seven sisters.

 

her dad tried hard, but no amount of work, could pay for it all.

they grew up poor, and there was never really enough of anything.

they moved, and moved, and moved some more.

 and eight schools later, she was free.

she ran away with (who she thought) was the love of her life,

but ten years later, the marriage failed it's last exam.

the papers were signed, and things were permanent.

she got a good job and proudly raised her kids,

and remarried her actual dream man.

 

the perfect life, with the perfect kids.

her son was graduated and excelling in college

her daughter had lots of friends, and together they got their weekly manicure.

at the age of forty her back just stopped working.

two unsuccessful surgeries, and thousands of pain pills later,

she was practically bed ridden.

if she continued living the way that she did: unbearable pain

if she got another surgery: unbearable pain.

three months before her daughters graduation,

the pain was over whelming, but she got up anyways.

she winced in pain as her slippers hit the stairs.

she turned on some music to drown out her thoughts.

the silence made her back hurt worse.

music played throughout the kitchen,  

but she didn't hear one note.

she grabbed her pill bottle, like she always did.

but this time it was different, she looked at it for a long time.

she slowly opened the cap an emptied the whole bottle into her hand.

she reached for a cup and her elbow paused the music.

when her brain focused on music, it couldn't focus on the pain.

 she listened to every word, because they would be the last thing she heard.

the song of choice was "out on my own" by gabrielle aplin

because of this song, she gave life one more chance.

 

 

 

i need a blood transfusion.

 my blood has an anger concentration of .04,

 it's genetic condition that fuels a never ending argument between my heart and my brain.

my heart tells me that hurt is okay.

my heart tells me that bodies heal so well sometimes, you can't even tell there was a mark. 

my heart tells me that scars should be flaunted, to show how strong you are.

but my brain and heart have never agreed.

my brain has scientific evidence that disproves everything that my heart is telling me is right.

my brain tells me that rule number one for survival, is to avoid pain at all costs.

my brain tells me that just because bodies can heal, doesn't mean they always do.

my brain tells me that scars need to be hidden to retain a "good image".

in the fifth grade they taught us how to calculate probability, but my heart taught me to believe in chance.

  in seventh grade, teachers stole the megaphone from my heart and gave it to my brain.

my brain helped me survive (with minimal scrapes) until now.

   there are 197 days until graduation and i need to hear my heart more than ever.

 but my brain keeps turning up the volume.

 i play bloody knuckles every morning in an attempt to win it back.

but my blood has an anger concentration of .04,

 it's genetic condition that fuels a never ending argument between my heart and my brain.

dear me,

what happened?

when did you start caring so much about the letters printed on the tag of your jeans?
when did you start hating the way you have always looked?
when did you get so insecure you prayed to be more invisible than the smell of co2?
when did you start to care how your had writing looked to the guy cheating off you in math class?
when did you start to spend too much money to make you look like something you'll never be?

what happened?

why do you pay so much attention to the way (you think) the girl is looking at you in the hallway?
why do you care so much about the opinion of the person you'll never talk to or see again?
why do you care what the cashier at walmart thinks about what you're buying?
why do you care so much?

what happened?

i don't know if i know you any more.

you just have to remind yourself, that this is just high school.

none of it matters.

so sleep in a little longer, because the people that matter most, love you the way that you are.

save up for college, because none of that hair care product works anyways, and those jeans don't last

pray to be seen, because you have a lot more to offer the world than you think.

pick your head up, and smile at everyone you pass in the hallway.

don't be afraid to be you.

go back to who you used to be,

i liked you better that way.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

he was my universe.

something about him reeled me in.

i would ache to be around him for just a moment. 

when he spoke, his words were a black hole sucking you in, never letting go. 

you don't want to go.

his eyes were more majestic than orions sparkling belt. 

his smile made everything in your life suddenly seem okay. 

i couldn't help but get sucked in.

his personality was gravity that held me in place when things went bad, an got worse. 

he was my gravity even when things were going fine.

  

he was everyone's gravity, but no one was his. 

two months later, a bent spoon and an over used needle shattered my perfect universe. 

it's been one year and eighty seven days,

and i'm still floating, breathless, around in the stars.

hoping that one day i'll get sucked back in,

to something,

to anything.

mainstream teenage nature 101

always have a friend to walk to each class with. never walk alone.

talk to lots of people, but don't get too close. (heaven forbid you make a new friend)

when you walk down an empty hallway always have your phone on hand. 

only smile at people that you know will smile back. (who wants to be seen smiling for "no reason")

make sure everyone knows that your life is worse than theirs. (even when they don't want to know)

don't do anything that could get you labeled, because labels last forever.

always cram the night before for tests. (or at least say you do)

pretend you're not religious. (because that's too normal.)

 one up everyone about how little sleep you have gotten. (when you really went to bed at 9:42)

complain about your parents. (even if you actually like them)

let them know how much your siblings suck. (even if they're your best friend)

make sure everyone hears about the hot guy you kissed at the party. (even if he's not real)

use the excuse "my printer is out of ink" at least once.

say your curfew is non existent. (when it really is 11:01)

pretend you don't care about your grades. (even though you study till your brain is fried crispy)

tell your parents it's the teachers fault that you didn't do your homework.

don't let anyone know who you are.

they will chew you up, 

and spit you out.

stay safe friends.

lies

my fears lie in the darkest parts of the ocean,

my fears lie within the pages of a four hour test booklet,

my fears lie within the dirt and stench of the man standing on the street corner with a cardboard sign,

my fears lie within the first color of the rainbow,

my fears lie in a hive full of honey.

they lie in the suspicious man following me down the street,

they lie in the sound of fireworks,

my fears lie in the high expectations you set 

my fears lie in the disease possibilities woven in my dna,

they lie in the wrinkles of my pale pink brain.

my fears lie in gpa tab of skyward

my fears lie in an empty picture frame.

 my fears lie in a cap and gown.

my fears lie. 

and i don't like liars.

medication

 we are all slowly dying. 
 breathing through rotten lungs
and loosing our sight. 
most of the time i'm dead inside.

but i found a cure,

nothing but the windows down

the smell of changing leaves, 
winding roads, and loud music.

an apology to all creative writing students

to be brutally honest, 

there were only a few people in my class that i could stand.

i almost transferred out for that very reason.
but things have changed.

i saw you in class, laughing with your friends.

i would have bet all my lifesavings that you had a perfect family.

i go home and read all these blogs,

and i see a different side of you.
the scared side, the lonely side, the insecure side, the broken side, the lost side, the scarred side,
and i realize just how hard we ALL have it.

i  thought i was the only one who could put on a brave face.

i look at the quiet girl in the back corner and remember the post i read last night,
was it her parents who went through that nasty divorce?

this is an apology to every creative writing student.

i'm sorry your health holds you back from doing all the things that you love, 

i'm sorry that you're a middle child,

i'm sorry you have nightmares you wish were true,

i'm sorry your dad has cancer,

i'm sorry you lost your best friend,

i'm sorry you were painted orange when you liked red better,

i'm sorry you had to replace your zipper.
i'm sorry you're scared,

i'm sorry you cry yourself to sleep at night,

i'm sorry your parents split up. 

i'm sorry you're scared to go home,

i'm sorry you have so many burdens to carry,

i'm sorry you still feel alone in a sea of people.
i'm sorry i don't say hi to you in the hallway.

but most importantly,
i'm so sorry that i judged you 
i had no right and i had no place.

please try and find a way to forgive me.
 

my back is killing me

the weight is unbearable,

curving your spine so far back that your insides have to rearrange.

breathing is nearly impossible,

and the pressure on your shoulders cause your arms loose all blood flow. 

your industrial strength, army issued, hiking back pack is full.

and has been since the tenth grade.

a brick for every bad day,

 for every mean thing you say,

 for every time you cause unneeded drama.

a brick for ignoring a cry for help,

a brick for blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong,

 for the accident you almost caused after school,

 for not fixing things when you had the chance.

 for every relationship you break,

and a brick for every little mistake you think you make.

carrying around all this useless baggage.

for what reason?

you don't know where else to store the bricks.

i guess you'll need a bigger back pack.

sorry folks, the show is cancelled

my joints grind as they are yanked up and down. 

my frail body thuds against the stage

 right arm up,

left leg down,

spin.

all eyes are glued to the stage,

 and all lips are glued in a smile

watching and laughing at our pitiful existence.

 it's been too long.

the strings have grown into my skin.

i try to keep them from moving me,

but i've lost all control.

this is all my fault. 

how could i let it get this far? 

i just wanted to be noticed

 i just wanted to be wanted.

i cared when i shouldn't have.

so much for being seen, 

i turn my head and look at the other preformers

  

how did we all get like this?

when did we go from living life, to preforming in this puppet show?

i don't want to be a puppet anymore,

but i've forgotten how to move without my strings.

you gotta want it

true love is rainy days and loud thunder

true love is the perfect home cooked meal,

true love is a perfect cup of hot chocolate on a cold day

true love is a surprise lunch date,

true love is thinking of others before yourself,

true love is interwoven fingers,

true love is a sunrise,

true love is sharpie ink,

true love still exists without make up

true love is a security system.

true love is two rings and a flower girl

true love is peanut butter and honey

true love is a meadow of wild flowers

true love is wrestling alligators

 true love is sharing a headstone.

TRUE LOVE IS WORK.

and true love is real. 

in the dead of night

all the lingering light has been destroyed by the rapid falling night.

even the moon has lost some of it's radiance.

 

 it's 2:14 am,

and the dark is claustrophobic,

the silence is tangible,

the stillness is paralyzing.

 my eyelids are as light as a feather

my thoughts are racing and i'm too slow to catch them.

all i know is that they're all about you.

  i caught a quick glimpse of your unforgettable smile

i saw a flash of your hair

i heard your laugh. 

i wish my brain would just work

so i could see you.

 i finally catch one.

but sad memories move slower than the happy ones.

the memory: the day we said good bye.

the day your dad told me you were gone, because your mom was a mess.

 the day i forgot how to breathe

the day i set fire to my heart because it was less painful that way.

 

 i'm done chasing.

i'm too slow for the good memories.

 

 it's 3:27 am,

 and the dark is claustrophobic,

the silence is tangible,

the stillness is paralyzing.

 my eyelids are as light as a feather

my thoughts are racing and i'm too slow to catch them.

all i know is that they're all about you.

what home should be

a slight hint of caution cinnamon has always gently caressed the air

the temperature has always been more fit for a penguin,

the rooms are always never empty. not even one.

a scatter gathering point for the wounded and their loved ones.

a place of entrance refuge from the corrosive weather outside it's walls

a place for hate healing, and judgement discovery.

 this place is home.

it may not be ideal,
but this home is where my heart is. 
where i had my luau themed 7th birthday party
where i took my first steps,
where i had my first kiss,
where i cried after my first break up.

all my memories are here.
etched in the walls so deep, no amount of concrete could ever fill up the holes.

manual de instrucciones

hello my name is E.L.L.A 

your personal Eye Laser Linking Appliance.

i am here to make sure you feel good about yourself.

i am controlled by eye and facial movements.

you can choose what i wear by simply looking at me with the facial expression of how you feel about me

my updated software will pick up on what ever emotion signal you are sending.

you can be as rude as you want, as long as it makes you feel better about yourself.

after all i am just a girl robot, and girls robots are numb to feelings.

pick me apart, 

glare at me,

look me up and down,

give me the ultimate stink eye.

it doesn't matter, i have no feelings anyways.

ten reasons why i hate this class

1. this class pulls my bad memories out of the dark corners i've shoved them into.

2. i can't be the quiet girl in the back, i have to be the real me.

3. i have to start reading more.

4. every blog is higher than the next, and i feel like mine is at the bottom of the totem pole.

5. i have to spend days writing and deleting just to get a half decent post.

6. i think so much that my brain is fried for my other homework.

7. i can no longer listen to a song with out finding something i want to add that to my quote page.

8. i spent way too much money on supplies to make my journal look cool.

9. my heart beats faster than a space launch when nelson starts asking people to share. (don't get any ideas nelson)

10. it's pushing me outside of my comfort zone. big time.



i may hate this class but that doesn't mean it won't be good for me.

the color code test ruined my life

i'm a blue

forever labeled as one color, 

a color that people associate with their worst memories,

the color of tears,

the color of the unknown.

when people feel their lowest, it is described as "feeling blue."

i am blue

i hurt people by simply existing.

could i be red or yellow?

i dreamed to be different,

yet it felt funny.

i was meant to be a blue.

i didn't have to be the gloomy shade of blue, 

i could be any shade of blue i wanted to be.

i could be the color of a limitless sky,

the color of a soul piercing eyes,

the color of summer ocean waves in hawaii.

 i don't have to be your reminder of the day your mom died.

i can be blue and be happy,

rain rehab

i can hear it on the roof,

my heart skips a beat when it gets louder and faster,

i run for a blanket, i have to see this.

the thunder cracks as i walk out the door.

i lift my head and take in a sight more beautiful than the third wonder of the world.

it's the only thing that gets me excited anymore.

a burst of lightening makes me smile. 

rain is like little drops of morphine, to numb the pain in my life

the cool splash of a single rain drop is enough to heal my charred heart.

the excess raindrops begin to repair the scars that are left.

my tears disappear into the soothing beads that land on my face,

it seems like the answers to all my problems are hidden in the falling droplets.

the smell of thunder covers my broken mind like a band aid.

the dark clouds hide the blinding light of reality,

and for a moment i am there, but i'm not.

for a moment i'm escaped, for a moment i'm content.

a letter to my long lost crayons

Dear, old friend

i broke you. 

i ripped you apart

i used you up.

i lost you.

i threw you away.

i stopped wanting you.

i left you in that cardboard box in the basement. 

but i still love you.

i need you to put the color in my life

i need you to help me see things differently
i need you to help me love school again.

i need you to be my friend

i need you to be my trusted secret keeper. 

please forgive me.

broken reflections

seven mirrors hang on a wall.

anchored to each other.

one shatters under the pressure of perfection,

one gets smashed by the little green monster.

two broken mirrors on the floor,

both refuse repair.

five mirrors remain.

what do they do? they need the others

this wasn't supposed to happen. 

they cling to the ones who are left,

trying to keep themselves together.
they hang for days,

they hang for weeks, 

they hang for months,

 they grow weak.

their strength has run out,

 heartache has won.

slowly loosing their grip,they fall,

but they were broken long before they hit the floor

seven broken mirrors on the floor.

all refuse repair.

they lied, time heals nothing

two months.

 8 weeks.
60 days.

1,440 hours.

86,400 minutes.

5,184,000 seconds.

two months might not seem that long to you,

but it feels like an eternity to me.

it's been two months.

since i've hugged you,
since we've talked, 

since i've seen your face,

since i've even heard your name.

i think everyone has forgotten about you.

BUT I HAVEN'T

i think about you every day.

you still owe me that diet coke.

every book I see makes me think of you.

i have a hole in my heart that nothing else can fill.

i leave my phone on at night just in case you call like you used to. 

i get so excited when it rings praying this time it might be you,

but each time it rings i lose a little more hope.

you're still my sister,

so i'll be here waiting,

to see you again,
to hug you,
to hear your voice,


when your ready to come back.

beneath the brim

the only thing hats are good for is hiding.

you wear them on a bad hair day,

you wear them to shade your face when your make-up is running low

you wear them when your brother accidentally gives you a black eye.

I'M DONE WITH HATS

i want people to remember that we all have bad hair days,

i want them to realize that every girl has these moments,

i want them to laugh with me at how stupid my brother is.

too bad a world without hats doesn't exist.

i guess we'll be hiding forever.

now you know

The girl that

cares too much,

loves to be lost, but wants to be found,

tries too hard to not get hurt,

always has her walls up,

thinks too much,

 and studies for hours and still fails the test.













 
The girl that

guards her oreo's on a bad day,

is scared to lose her family,

falls short every time,

the girl who is invisible.

I am her. 

And she is me.