The sound of glass falling

Leave your reasons on the bathroom sink
Take a deep breathe
feel the water inside your chest
and keep breathing in.

The sound of glass falling
breaks the concentration
circling the drain--

Leaving you thinking---

what was I doing--- or why didn't I do---

So maybe not today.

But there is always tomorrow.

To Be Hated

HELLO EVERYONE!!! Due to SANDY, we have been quite off track. However, it is going to take a lot more than a hurricane to de-rail this train! SO we are continueing scheduel as planned. ♥

So this week is Sucicide and Bullying week. TO start, I wanted to share a good friend of mine's post about what I am wrighting today. Her post inspired me to write what is below. Check her out, subscribe: She is the creator of The Bing-Love-Purge-Hate Campeign!!!!

http://bridschwartz.blogspot.com/2012/10/102512.html

Kenneth Weishuhn

"Mom, you don't know how it feels to be hated."

You don't know how it feels to have that knife in your throat-
So I can't speak up about it.

They were too cruel to to stab me in the back;
So they took their empty words and violent threats to the world.

They  put my names on their lists.

Written on the bathroom stall,
inside the hurt locker of their minds.
In the wispers of their rage.

Mom, you will never know how it feels to be hated.

To have those hands in which were made to comfort,
turned on their back sides- against my face.
They sound in my ears as they scream FAGGOT
forever on the answering machine.

"Keep Hanging in there"
I wrote on my inspiration walls.

I did.

And even when I took that long jump from my bed to the undiscovered contry;
They still hated me.

I hope you never know what it is like to be hated:
But I was told that death knew how to love more than life.

Breathe...In....Out

I don't remember how to breathe,
I must have forgotten along the way;
Standing on the cliffs over looking
The mountains that sink into
Water or something deeper.
Who needs air when we have nerves.

Right?


I am right, right?

Well maybe I'm left.
Turning into the elbows
Off the roadway
I parked and sat there for
And hour or so
Repeating those words on the
Screens spread wide
For everyone to see

I was terrified,
I am terrified that everyone would see
Will see

Saw

The remains of my youth
My passion

That rejection letter stamped on my hands
Branded into my skulls and bones
Agonizing with the sounds of
Absolute and un-promising

Failure.

Time goes on,
Time heals everything
But failure--- failure is wasted time

And you can't get time back
You can't replace or pause or steal or hold onto it

So I can't hold onto me.


Because I am failure.
Inside my blood
Boiling to a frozen state of
Anger
And Rage
Utter disappointment

Because you were my net
But I feel through into the arms
Of the mosh pits

So the world can see and comment on my life
As a post with the words
On top of our car roofs
By the edge of the cliffs


If this was a post you'd comment

Jump


And maybe I would
Because all I have ever wanted to do is please you

But maybe...

Maybe I'd just suspend my legs
Over the world and cry wolf
So you would come running down the sidewalks
screaming fire
Clearing out the movie theatres
To save me....

But this is not gone with the wind:
And I know you "Frankly, don't give a damn"

I don't wear curtains.

So I freak out because
I'm just not that girl

I go into my roof and hold my
Lungs in a hug
Until they burst, or feel like bursting

And then air rushes through my body
And I---


Remember.

How to breathe.

In
And
Out

In
And
Out

Then my feet lift

And I remember how to breathe again.


In

And

Out

Fish Girl

Starting the 2week blogging session about bullying and Suicide. This is a very serious topic; and I hope I can honor that in which so many people buckle under the stress and strain that a bully can put a person through....

But today, to start: I wanted to talk about the bully.

 

***

I never thought about her.

 

Not often, I mean.

 

That harsh radiance

That exuberance

Of her ever fainted frown

 

I...

 

I never really paid attention to the crown of her head

Split down the middle as hair began to form

Covering up what could be mistaken

As thoughts but I never really paid attention to it

 

So maybe they were,

But maybe they were the truth.

 

That would explain a lot.

 

That would explain everything.

 

She had beautiful wrists.

Tiny and nimble

Wrapped around a palm when I grabbed onto her

From pinky to thumb

Oh, hush tone now.

You talk too much without saying words

Just sounds

That no one can make sense of

So no one comes to rescue you from

Under the garbage bags…

 

She smelled of fish.

 

I remember that.

 

That guttural urge I got when I looked at her.

 

She was a fish

She belonged in water

She floated to the top

Upper belly

She can't swim

She was pushed in

She

 

She sank to the bottom of a test tube

Swiveled around

Passed in the papers

 

She slept with the fishes for all I know.

 

Now we all know, I guess

 

But water would never be the death of her,

Because water is like concrete:

It held her down as it filled inside her ears

Ringing and popping like

Fireworks in her eyes

Blinding everyone else

And they never saw what She

What I…

 

She was invisible.

 

The tiny little rock floating in orbit

Around the planets and stars

I knocked her out of orbit

Crashing into the earth

But she must have burned up in the atmosphere

As she descended

 

Down

 

Down

Down

 

Down

 

And hid herself in the earth

Away from the sun beams

Away from the stars and away from...

 

Sometimes I wish she never existed,

But days like this I hate her-I..

 

She never did anything but breathe the air in which

All creatures share but I

I guess I took it too personally

Because I'm not good with sharing

See

 

I'm the girl who hands bigger than her head

Who goes to hug and strangles instead

I can't lift your spirits

But I sure can lift you into the air; high

Throw you into the dumpster left for the night vultures

I can't –

 

I can't swim either

But I don't sink down into the earth

 

I stay.

I sit.

 

I shy away from those thought bubbles bursting from her head

So maybe...

 

Maybe

 

Maybe that's why I smashed it into the lockers

Maybe that's why I covered her head in day old lunchables

Pushed her into the pools of everything I just didn't want to hear, to face;

 

To be---

 

I never payed attention to her.

I guess everyone else is now.

 

Paper Planes and Rubix Cubes

You’re enjoying this...

I think that's what hurts the most.

The smile on your fingertips
As they forcibly lace into my hair
The comfort of the bed-side
Holding me unbreakably
As I am covered in a knife called kisses.

These bones, like paper planes
Leave nothing but dreams and paper-cuts
As the Rubix Cube of my mind
Is colored in black and white
Endlessly being picked apart at your leisure.

You'll never understand.

Then again,
It's not like you're trying to.

I want to run away from you
But these feet were made dancing
And certainty not for back-tracking
I have been watching the waltz for so long
I can barley count the rhythms
Of my own heartbeat.

One
.
.
Two
.
.
Three
.
.
It's disgusting.

These paper planes can't fly,
They can only jump and hide.

I don't hide,
I can't hide,
I won't hide.

There is nowhere to hide.

Because the facts are that monster don't live under the bed,
They're lying next to you in bed.

And I'm just glad you’re not a necrophilia,
Just an insomniac.

I've stopped sleeping.
And with that, dreaming.
Because it has gotten to the point were
I can't tell the deference between
Nightmares and Reality
And dreams are just hints of the future
That don't look too bright for either of us.

Please.

I'm not going to fight you,
Because fighting is immature;
And I'm not going to kill myself
Because suicide is selfish.

I'm not going to talk
Because selling out is weak.

I can't do anything....


And it hurts that you enjoy that.

How To Spell Love

I'm a fool

But I'm not stupid.

So don't think I don't feel the arrows in my back

When I turn and hug you

Saying it is going to be okay.

And yes: I was lying.

Because nothing is the way you need it to be,

I thought I could lean on you

But I fell down into the grave

You dug as you buried me under

Your guilt and this feeling

You like to spell out on your forehead

Like a neon sign.

Labels.

All over us;

Like skin almost, but not.

Seeping into my veins with words of truth and exaggeration.

Hello my name is...

Not important.

But what is, is the placement.

See you stamp it out in block letters over every surface you see

Claim it to be yours.

You see, I am not yours.

I am me.

Mine.

And this label you try to brand into my memory

Like it's been here all this time

And you’re the only one who sees it.

But you’re not that special.

I see it, I just don't hear the bells

Until you clang them against my forehead ringing them

Into my cerebral asking me if

I can feel it now.

You tell me to spell out the ways I love you;

I can barley even say I love you to myself,

And I can certainty not say I love you to someone who

Holds hands with barbwire wrists

And uses they're lips for cursing the others that pursue kisses

Don't ask me to spell out love for you.

It's something you feel.

.

.

.

I don't feel anything anymore.

The Skeleton In our Health Class

Hello Pretty People! This is day...okay, I've lost count already: but it is week 2 of the poems project!
I hope you like today's work!:

***

I dreamed once that I saw your face
In my mirror, rippling like water
With drops of Jupiter in your hair,
Just like the Train song.

I asked if you found what you were looking for,
You said you don't like music.
I asked again until you gave me that look
In your eyes that screamed
Silence the only answer I can give you.

I should have known better
Than to step on the feet of the
Wide eyed dreamer,
Because your head is too big
To look down on the ground
As you look up to the sky
And forget about this ant called
Your sister in which you have left behind.

I started dating the skeleton in our heath class,
Because he had nothing he could hide behind;
Always exposed and ready for me
To be--- to be.

And he inspires me-
Inspires me to be something more.
Something beautiful other than the shadow
Of the girl with big dreams that just so happens
To share my last name.

So let’s talk about the big elephant in the room.

I know you don't like it when I talk about myself,
But you never seem to either,
So I do all the talking and you do all the thinking.

The skeleton in the health class does the feeling
And I try to do the living
But I can't live if I'm not feeling-
Feeling the moment in my bones.

My ribcage can't touch the air yet,
And my collar bone is yet to protrude out to touch your lips
As they whisper words to me
"What are you doing, Sarah?"

That's the first thing you've said to me in months.

What am I doing?

I'm dating the Skeleton in our health class,
Because he doesn't have a heart and he loves me more than you ever will.

So as you are the girl with the stars in her eyes,
I am the girl with the rocks in her stomach
Laid against this pole upside my back.

I hear the teacher enter the class:

"Good day students. Today we're going to dissect the broken teenager who has lived in the shadow of her sister so long that she became a shadow entirely. Now turn to page 100 and begin".

I can't wait to be looked at from under a microscope.
Maybe then you'll start to see me again.

Ask Me Questions Like I Know the Answer

***
The beginning of week 2 everyone! EATING DISORDERS. This week really means a lot to me, if not the most to me; so here it is; kicking this week off!

This poem is just about the way I see myself in the best and worst light. Kind of a notion to body dismorfia...but also just a little preview into where I feel I am right now. (Stolen poetry from past blogs and Kate Nash songs)
***


If you asked me who I am, I’d probably forget to tell you my name.

Instead I’d tell you that my eyes are brown, and my hair is brown, and inside I'm brown like dirt.
That I'm shorter than my mother, but taller than some people in the world; and that I do indeed get mistaken for an 8th grader sometimes.
I'd tell you that I like walking better than driving because feeling the ground under my feet is an affirmation that I am alive and that I am connecting to something bigger than me.
I'd tell you that I think the sky looks too big at night and not big enough in the morning.
I'd probably explain that it has something to do with the fact that I wake up with every intention of flying and go to sleep knowing my elbows haven't sprouted wings yet.

But don't worry, I’d say, because I’ll wake up hopeful again tomorrow.

And if you were to wait around a little more, I might be persuaded to tell you I’d lost my mind seven years ago and would you be kind enough to help me look for it?
I'd probably tell you about the girls with teardrop-eyes who chewed up my heart because they thought it'd be aspirin and was indignant when it burned a hole through their livers.
I'd probably shrug and tell you my lips must be acidic because I never can kiss the same mouth twice.

This is probably about the time I’d laugh and tell you that I’m silly because I run away when I see what I most want.
I'd tell you that I’d rather spend my days messing up the puzzle pieces than enjoying the way they fit together. I'd say that most people think they're crazy but I know I actually am because I can't take a good thing and keep it that way.
I have a talent for pushing people away and lighting fires under bare feet. 

But I’d shrug and smile because I really can't blame the people that run, and I blame myself instead for chasing them down the sun stroked streets.

And this is probably when you'd pat my shoulder and tell me I’m not so bad.
Here, I’d probably say I know, because to be honest, I think I love myself too.
But I wouldn't be honest because everything I said has been a lie.
You wouldn't know that.
Because who I am, is everything I don't want to tell you.
So sometimes, no every time I have to look in the mirror and remind myself that I screwed up again, I think to myself: 
Days like this make me wish I was a smoker.
Because this tar I feel trapped inside, I'd rather be ingesting. 

But then I remind myself about the cancer and black lungs and yellow teeth and I’d laugh because I wasn't serious.
But if I was serious, I’d probably tell you that I feel bad for the people who ever have the bad luck to fall in love with me.
I'd purse my lips and think and tell you that they're going to have to have a taste for uncontrollable frustration because I could promise them that.
And it's a shame, I’d say, because every morning they're going to have to pick up the same pieces off the ground that they glued back together the night before.

But its okay, I’d say, because for now, I really am worth it.

And don't worry. I'd notice the way you're checking your watch and I’d stretch and say the weather's beautiful and isn't it a shame that I have to leave?
 I'd give you a hug and say what a pleasure it'd been to meet you and remind you to watch your tongue because you'll trip more often with that then your feet.
I'd pick up my purse and walk off thinking I’d look better if I was wearing a Grace Kelly inspired hat.
And I’d have forgotten you by the time I turned the corner.

That's about the time you'd remember I forgot to tell you my name.

But you didn't really need it to know who I am, did you?

TEENS AND ADULT DEPRESSION AWARNESS

http://www.facebook.com/events/399017816833171/#!/TeensAndAdultDepressionAwareness

This is a link to a good friends project to inform people about the harms of depression.
Please look at it, follow it; talk about it!

She is a great person, her personal jounrey is great; she is an inspiration.

LIKE
FOLLOW
TWEET
RE-TWEET

AND OF COURSE

DISCUSS!!!!!


Hayley Michelle

Illiterate

It's not litterary Gold, but it is something.DAY #3 OF THE PRETTY POEM PROJECT!

***

It's midnight and I'm writing love letters to the woman who raised me.
It's midnight and every limb has a story.
Broken into small fractions,
Like chapters rapped around my waist.
I read my lips like the bible,
And I burn them just the same.

Because my body is unworthy
Of your words
Your love is my language
So fluently spoken
Every syllable sounding
As the patterns revolve through
My teeth like floss.

It's midnight and I'm watching
The sentences
Trickled down the page,
Upside my leg as it circles the drain
In a dance known to the vulgar kind

If only you knew how many drafts
These wrists have endured
My collar bone aching with riddles
My hands blackened in the ink
Of these eyelids.

It's midnight and I'm reading
My fingertips
In fragmented run-on's
Oxymoron’s, metaphors
Similes
And watching your reaction
As it all goes down the sink.

You'll never read what I had to say
Because I loved you so much it was unbearable to speak

The treason it took

Its midnight and my lungs are collapsing
Bending into the tar I breathed
For 14 years and leaning
Into your grammatical errors
You are my net to fall into.

So morning come,
These words shall be gone as the tide,
And I will still be here
Muttering clashed up letters
Like mashed potatoes.
Gnawing on the sentences that were

You'll never know but what I wrote.
But neither will I,
You see,
My body is illiterate.

Icarus

DAY #2 of The Pretty Poem Project.
Today I thought I'd focus on the means in which make me...me. I thought about how I wanted to tell people about how they can...well can't...but can fly (metaphorically, emotionally and physically) and well....oh, for Pete sakes: just read. XP

***

I told you cardboard wings weren't meant to bend and break
Branded in glitter and peacock feathers
You’ve tried to make something of me
But I am a pigeon with unruly crow feathered features.

Even Icarus knew that birds were the keys to the heaven
And he danced on the sky piano
But got burned by the passion
That muses and music make,
Called it the sun and fell into the deep blue ocean
Of your fathers eyes.

Somehow,
Along this journey of blistered feet
We've learned to love.
To love the depth in a deep dish pizza,
And the cheap linoleum floors,
That will always catch us when falling of beds
Pretending we can fly.

Somewhere someone important said something
I can't remember it now,
But it reminded me of this moment in time
Where we looked at the stars and named
The elements of the universe
Dissecting it like the frog it was
Never questioning weather it was a prince or not.
I kissed it and only got warts
But the adventure in my veins was worth it.

I look at you and see an endless amount of possibilities,
Like a never ending story that ranges in 52 chapters, 793 pages.
Still counting.

You are the sister I never had,
The mother I never loved,
The brother I should have listened to
And the face I wake up to every morning
Singing your praise of being able to see this day
To hear this hymn
To touch your hand
And hold it so tight that I cut of your circulation.

I look at you and see an endless amount of potential,
Sitting there in glitter and cardboard box wings
Jumping off rooftops trying to fly to the sky piano.

 We act our age not our pants size,
 And I have grown older then the cosmos,
 As you've stayed consistent in your youth.

 We were never young to begin,
 But I still loved you like a baby.
 Cradled you until you suffocated in this sweet-and-low blanket I like to call arms.

 But now we must realize that the stars are just gas clouds,
 And love is an awkward mangled sound of letters forced on one another
 Like war in my mouth
 It tastes bitter.
 You taste bitter.

 So while I have Plath and Poe to hold me,
 My sweet dear Icarus...
 My father’s eyes were never ocean blue
 And my arms would send you into a diabetic coma,
 So I must let passion and plumage consume you.

 God would have given us wings if we were meant to fly,
 Without you I am grounded.
  But you have taught me to soar.

 Am I making sense?

Beautiful Girl (Inside/Outside)

So this is the start of something beautiful I'm sure.
DAY #1 of The Pretty Poem Project.

This week we are focussing on personal stories that we can share and help other girls (or guys) can relate to, listen to, and look to.

For my first venture into my dark yet sunny personal life, I thoghut I'd start by combinding two things that really made me as a person:

My middle school life
My music

So this is an"EP" of a song I wrote today and recorded. Also The lyrics:


Your not like the other girls in your class
the ones the boys always ask to dance
You say you don't mind
But that's a fat lie
You don't like watching the fun pass you by
The girls laugh at you
The boys joke
You hear their puns until you get home
You know that someday
This ugly duckling will be come a swan
But when will that day come

Cuz today feels like forever
And you can't break free like somethings stuck on your sweater
You hope that things will get better
But its taking its sweet time

You're beautiful on the inside
You're an inverse rose tonight
So let them tease
Because in time
You'll be one your way
To the spot-light you deserve
But for now
Yes for now
You're gonna have to stand by
Just remember your beautiful on the inside
And it shows on your outside

Your always picked last
No matter what the task
I know it hurts but
That too shall pass
You say you don't mind
And thats a fat lie
Cuz everyone need a friend sometimes
You hide behind the tree on the playground
you climb up so no one else can bring you down
They pass notes and push you around
But in a little time we'll see who's laughing now

Today feels like it won't end
Like yesterday over again and again
I know it's hard but
Stars don't shine on their own

 You're beautiful on the inside
You're an inverse rose tonight
So let them tease
Because in time
You'll be one your way
To the spot-light you deserve
But for now
Yes for now
You're gonna have to stand by
Just remember your beautiful on the inside

Sticks and stones may break these bones
Words will hurt us too
I know it's whats on the inside that counts
but it wouldn't hurt to be loved on the outside too

Your beautiful on both sides
Just remember to hold on tight
They might not see
They might not care
Just know I'll aways be there
You beautiful girl
You beautiful girl
You beautiful girl

Your not like the other girls
but that's why I love you

The Pretty Poems Criteria (PART II)

So, as of now the week will stand as written (But I reserve the right to change my mind):

WEEK 1: Personals (this week I want to focus on our personal strong points and how we can tell our stories and relate it to other girls our age who may possibly be going through hardships as well. This project is about relating, inspiring, and giving hope to the youths of today. I hope this theme caries throughout your writing in general).

WEEK 2: Eating Disorders (Including bulimia, anorexia, body dismorfia etc. Feel free to pull for actual stories, personal encounters and whatever inspires you.)

                                      

WEEK 3: Abuse (emotional, mental and or physical. Feel free to pull from actual stories, personal encounters and whatever inspires you.)

WEEK 4: Bullying/Suicide ( how one can lead to the other, or they can be completely separate. I wanted to put these two together due to them usually being paired with each other. Feel free to pull from actual stories, personal encounters, and whatever inspires you.)

WEEK 5: Bullying/Suicide ( I think it is appropriate to do two weeks on this topic, due to it being so vast.)

WEEK 6: Sexuality (The uncomfortable feel of your own skin, dealing with being homosexual, fear of not being excepted. This theme I know is very important to many of you, and to me as well. So please feel free to dwell here for as long as you need. Pull from actual stories, personal encounters, and what ever inspires you.)

WEEK 7: THE IMPORTANCE OF STRENGTH (This is the big one. the fact that all that life brings from the past weeks, we can either choose to buckle under the pressure, or rise like a phoenix above it. Feel free to play in both extremes. Pull from actual stories, personal encounters, and what ever inspires you.)

ALSO! I forgot to mention, if you are inspired by images, feel free to share them, post them etc.

Writing will start Monday sharp.

I cannot wait to see what we can do together!

Pretty People are made out of ugly experiences.

We are pretty people.

Someday.

Everyday.

Starting today.

Hayley Michelle

The Pretty Poems Criteria (PART I)

So for my writing staff, (I love saying that.) Here is what we'll be looking for in this writing session:

1. POEMS
                  Free verse, Hiku's, anything that suits you and inspires you. WRITE IT. As long as it fits the theme of the week, please do. 
2. 10 MINUTE PLAYS
                  Same criteria as poems, however I will be very serious about the time limits. (With the exception of either and or both Sarina and Bri's plays. We must talk about them in the near future).
3. RESEARCH
                  For either poems and or plays, feel free if your not feeling inspired to share some writers and or works that may influence the rest of the writing team. For instance, if the theme of the week was "SUCICIDE" and you were un-inspired, you could post the poem from Perks of Being a Wall-Flower. Or do research on the rates of teen sucicde and their causes.


I hope you will all take advantage of this to build your portfolio, your writing stamana and TRY TO WRITE EVERY DAY. However, it is not required.

THE WRITING STAFF

Hello Pretty People!

So sorry for the break of time. The research for the Bracelet Project is coming along, and so is the beginning process of our Pretty Poems!

I have a writing staff comprised of dear friends, close colleagues and each one of them incredible writers (if I do say so myself).

SO! to formally announce my writing staff:

Myself

Sarina Faith

Bri Shwartz (The creator of The Bing Love Purge Hate Project. Like on Facebook!)

Amanda Glebus

Jessica Schenck

Jessica Junqua (Jenna)

Nyasia Dyre (Nya Kight)

The next month (and a half or so) shall consist of vigorous writing and we will eventually emerge with work that will hopefully add to the conversation, start new conversations and let others participate in the conversations.

We can change the world!

One post,

one poem,

one word

at a time.

Hayley Michelle

The PRetty Poems Project and The Green-Light-Go Project

Hello Pretty people!

 

So....

 

I know you are anticipating my journey on the quest to make 300 bracelets (Trust me I'm excited too).....

 

But alas...

There are always complications.

 

You see....

 

I don't know the first thing about making jewelry.

 

Apparently there are specific tools, beads and ways on making a bracelet.

 

So the Green-Light-Go Project is in an imaginary hiatus for at least a month.

 

By "imaginary hiatus" I mean, I will not be posting about the project for at least a month, because I am taking classes, reading up and doing a ton of research so I can make the best bracelet I possibly can!

 

So in the meantime, I am going to restart a project me and my fellow colleges discussed quite some time ago, and that is...

 

THE PRETTY POEM PROJECT!

 

Last year I attended college AP classes in Poetry and other Artsy things.

 

I made a ton of friends and contacts, and through that this project I dea was born.

This shall be part of the final project Readings. (that is why I am making the Bracelets in the first place).

 

The Pretty Project overall goal is to have a reading week series of poems, plays and other artful things on Broadway (off-Broadway). I want to establish this as an up and coming Theatre Company.

 

All the proceeds will go to charities that help the victims of self abuse (ED, Suicide, mental diseases etc.) and abuse from others (rape victims in Somalia and America, child abuse victims etc.)

 

The week (ideally) will compose of:

 

MONDAY: A Film and Play about the Pretty Project morals/themes (plus a great opening night party with fancy crackers and cheese).

 

TUESDAY: A live questionnaire with the interviewees of the pretty project. Plus some of their artwork (paintings and such).

 

WEDNESDAY: THE PRETTY POEMS PROJECT (where myself and other poets shall collect and write from and for the victims of what we are fundraising for and perform them).

 

THURSDAY: 10 minute plays by colleges and myself.

 

FRIDAY: The WORLD PREMIRE OF MY ANTHOLOGY: Fat Ass, Skinny bitch: World War Size 2 ( A play i have been working on since I was in 8th grade. It is my manifesto.) (Also followed by a closing amazing party with even fancier crackers and fancier cheese.)

 

SATURDAY AND SUNDAY: Counting the money and giving it to the charities, plus interviewing some of the girls I visit at shelters (and boys too. All People are Pretty People).

 

THEN THE PROCESS STARTS ALL OVER AGAIN!!!!!

 

So Tonight, I am contacting my dear, good colleges. Tomorrow I will post the participants and we shall begin writing!

National Eating Disorder Assosiation

The Green-Light-Go Project: Day 2

Hello Pretty People!

So today I planned on going to AC MOORE to buy braclet making materials, however I am under "Tornado Watch"... because aparently we have tornado's in the middle of New Jersey.
So I cannot travel out today.

So instead I decided that I am going to research ED rehab's/hospital programs in which i can eventualyl donate my money too. Throguhout the corse of tghis rpoject, I intend on contacting them and eventually working along side them.

(I also need to get an umbrella house from Fracture Atlas, but that's a diffrent adventure for a future blog).

http://www.anorexiatreatment.com/anorexiatreatment/index.html
(I am going to ned to research this place more, but is of intrest to me).

http://www.princetonhcs.org/phcs-home/what-we-do/university-medical-center-of-princeton-at-plainsboro/what-we-do/clinical-centers-for-care/center-for-eating-disorders-care.aspx
(this is HIGH on my list. I actually intend on going there to interview a few of the girls in rehabilitation as part of this projectas well. These people help so many, and I really wish to give back to them.)

http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/about-us/
(This is another HIGH on my list. This is the national Eating Disorder Assosiation. In where they are a non-for profit organization that dedicate their lives to helping others. I find them inspirational, plus they have a great volenteer and intern program in which you can help!I intend of looknig into that furhter as well.)

The Green Light Go Project: Day 1

Before one can make 300 braclets, one msut learn how to make 1 first. Here are a few ways I researched on how to make a braclet!

How to make a beaded bangle bracelet:

 

It is easy and fun to make a beaded bangle bracelet. Play around with different beads before you decide on a final selection, because you might find some interesting designs for your bangle. Try mixing different textures, colors and shapes. You need 15gauge (1,5mm) and 17g (1,2mm) wire for this project. Keep this in mind when you buy your beads, because the holes must allow 1,5mm wire to pass through. Practice with inexpensive wire like copper if this is one of your first wire project. What you need:

• 5 lampwork beads of your choice
• 6 large silver flower spacer beads (with holes big enough for 15g wire)
• silver round spacer beads (30 to 40, depending on your bracelet size)
• 17 or 18 gauge wire (1,2mm or 1,0mm)
• 15 gauge wire (1,5mm)
• headpin (optional, see step 6)
• small crystal bead 4mm (optional, see step 6)
• silver filigree bead (optional, see step 6)
• round nose pliers
• chain or flat nose pliers
• wire or side cutters
• safety glasses (optional)

Step 1:
You are going to work with the 15g wire first, so cut off a piece of wire (wrist size + 2”). You do not have to straighten the wire, because the bent wire is perfect for the bangle you are going to make. (Most techniques require that you have to straighten the wire before working with it). Grip the end of the wire with the middle part of your round nose pliers. You are going to make a loop, and gripping the wire at the end with the middle of your round nose pliers will give you a fairly good sized loop.

Make your loop in the opposite direction of the curve of the wire.

Make a loop by moving your pliers away from you. You will have to adjust your pliers as you go along.

Step 2:
Slide your beads onto the wire in the order you desire. The total length of all the beads must be the size of your wrist. The following formula will give you more or less an estimate length to work on.

Wrist size + 1 ½ inch = this beaded bangle bracelet size. The ½ an inch is added to the formula because you are using lampwork beads, which take up some space. The clasp and loops add the extra inch to the length.

 

Step 3:
When you have the correct length, grip the wire with the middle part of your round nose pliers next to the last bead. Use your free hand to bend the wire around the upper prong of your pliers until you have formed a complete loop. Cut off the excess wire that does not form part of the loop with your wire cutters. Always protect your eyes when cutting wire. Press the loop with your chain or flat nose pliers to make the loop even.


Step 4:
Curve the bangle into a round shape. Leave a space between the two ends, because you are going to attach the clasp to both ends.

 

Step 5:
The next step is to make a clasp for your beaded bangle bracelet. You will need 17g or 18g wire for making the clasp. I've used 17 gauge wire for this project. Follow the detailed explanation on the page how to make an S-clasp. Attach the clasp to your bangle.


Step 6:
Making a dangle for your clasp is optional. Use your headpin, silver bead and crystal bead and follow the steps in the link for making a loop on a headpin. Open the loop of the headpin, and attach it to the small loop of the s-clasp. Close the loop completely.

How To Make A Lampwork Bracelet:

You too can make a beautiful lampwork bracelet like the one in the graphic. But you can also change the look of the bracelet just by using different types, sizes and colors of beads. The possibilities are endless.

What you need:

• 19 strand Beadalon wire
• lampwork beads, or any other beads
• toggle clasp
• 2 jumps rings (5-6mm)
• 2 calottes
• blue swarovski crystal beads (optional)
• bali spacer beads (optional)
• crimp beads
• crimping pliers
• toggle clasp
• chain nose pliers
• wire or side cutters

Step 1:
Cut off a piece of Beadalon wire, 1” longer than the length of your bracelet. String your crimp bead onto the end of the wire. Use your crimping pliers to compress your crimp bead into a ball described on the page how to use crimp beads and crimping pliers. String your calotte onto the wire until the crimp bead is in the middle of the calotte. Cut off the wire next to the crimp so that no parts will stick out.

 Step 2:
Gently close the calotte with your chain or flat nose pliers until it is completely shut.

Step 3:

Open the loop of your calotte with your chain nose pliers and insert the jump ring. Close the loop.

Step 4:
Open the loop of the calotte by using your pliers to attach a jump ring. Open the jump ring described on the page how to open jump rings, and insert the bar of your toggle clasp. Close your jump ring the same way as you opened it.

Step 5:
Bring on the beads! If you're making the lampwork bracelet, then string your beads in the following order: Swarovski bead, lampwork bead, swarovski, bali bead, swarovski, lampwork etc. If you have your own beads, you can arrange them in the desired order.

Step 6:

Use the bracelet size guide to get the right length for your bracelet. Just keep in mind that the rest of the toggle clasp will include a calotte and jump ring at the end of your bracelet. Once you’ve got the right length, insert the calotte as shown in the graphic as well as a crimp bead.

Try to open the calotte slowly, and not too wide. I’ve broken dozens of these fragile little clamshells, and then I had to start all over again. Do not use crimping pliers for this specific crimp bead, they are too wide and will surely break the calotte. Use chain or bent nose pliers instead. Hold the wire with one hand, and with the other hand compress the crimp bead with your chain nose pliers.

Step 7:

Cut the tail of the wire with your wire or side cutters. Use your chain or flat nose pliers and gently close the shells of the calotte.

Step 8:

Open the loop of the calotte and insert the other jump ring. Close the loop. Open the jump ring to insert the ring of your toggle clasp. Close the jump ring to finish your lampwork bracelet.

(ALL INFORMATION ON BRACLET MAKING COMES FROM: )

http://www.how-to-make-beaded-jewelry.com/

Hayley Michelle, 15 years old, Spetmber 13: 2012

The Green-Light-Go Project

Hello Pretty People!

I know I have not posted in a while, however I have some eciting news.

I have taken on a wing to the pretty Project. It is called
THE GREEN LIGHT GO PROJECT!

It is a fundraiser/awarness raiser for ED.
We are trying to raise money for a week long series reading in ART NY.

My goal for this month+ is to make 300 of these braclets for sale.
Hand Crafted.
From the heart.

This is a counter project to THE RED BRACLET PROJECT.

They look like any bracelet you might buy at the mall. You probably wouldn't even notice if your child started wearing one, but these are not just any bracelet.

They are a sign of membership in a disturbing world of underground Web sites, which connect people who share a dangerous passion.

"They are encouraging people to be ill and it's like a secret cult, a secret society. Word spreads around and people have a lingo now," said Lynne Grege of the National Eating Disorders Association .

The lingo includes nicknames like Ana and Mia. The cute names may sound innocent, but they aren't.

Bracelets sell for about $20 on a web site called www.bluedragonfly.org and if you spot your child wearing one, you may have no idea what it means.

Parents and reporters discovered that the inconspicuous bracelets are actually a secret signal for people with eating disorders and other destructive behaviors.

Red bracelets represent anorexia, purple is for bulimia and black and blue is for self injury, such as cutting and self mutilation.

The nickname Ana is for anorexia and Mia is for bulimics.

Eve Rosenblum, 18, owns one of the secret bracelets. The Royal Oak teenager has struggled with anorexia since she was 12 years old. She visits Web sites like Blue Dragon fly almost every day.

"They understand. They don't think it's like horrible and they don't think you should get better," said Rosenblum.

The red "ana" bracelet reportedly signals anorexia. Some say it is a reminder to teens that they shouldn't eat.
The Web sites don't discourage eating disorders. Lila's Good Health reports they encourage the behavior of people who want to keep starving themselves.

The Blue Dragonfly Web site lists the first names and hometowns of girls who have ordered the secret bracelets. There's Kristina from Clarkston, Jessica from Inkster, Rachelle from Canton, and more.

Visitors post messages encouraging each other's weight loss and even offer tips on how to purge quieter.

The Web site features pictures of emaciated women. They call it "Thinspiration." They are pictures designed to inspire girls to lose more weight.

Girls that Local 4 spoke to said the anorexia bracelets are more than a secret sign of membership. They use them to motivate themselves not to eat.

"If you're going to eat something and you see the bracelet on your arm, you'll stop yourself and say I don't want that," said Rosenblum.

(ARTICLE FROM www.infowars.com )

The red braclet stands for fighting, for purging, for starving.

The green braclets stand for Fighting your belifs, for purging unfairnes, and for endulging in life.

The green braclets will not be secret, but a loud scream to the world that we are there for you if you need us. For support, to cry on, to make you laugh.

We will always be there to listen.

To hold your hand.

To help you get through the pain.

Pretty people are made out of ugly experiences.

We are pretty people.

Somdays.

Everyday.

STARTING TODAY!!!!

Hayley Michellem 15 years old: September 13, 2012

Ethan

I feel the most alone when I'm with the world.

Ethan loved the world.
Because it was bigger than all of us, and it made him feel small.
I guess that's the thing about Ethan: he enjoys being small.

Ethan...Ethan was diffrent.

You would'n tell by looking at him though.

He looked like a fresh breathe of air that has been inside the smile of someone important.

Ethan wasn't important.... not to me at least.
But Ehthan was....

Well I guess Ethan just was.

He was the kid that walked in the bike lane,
and the spent more time in the walls than in his own house.

The thing about Ethan is...
Is that there are so many things about him.

And their tiny and descreet.
I mean, It's not only backwards but its upside down.

He has more layers than an onion,
but people would bit eanyway....because they could.

Ethan peeled like skin to them....
but he always maintained a smile...
The smile of someone important that had oxygen inside of them that was from no one.

Ethan liked being a no one.

You see that painting?
That's Ethan.

If you look really closely you can see him in the pastels, the strokes...

Everyone,
everyday
walks by that mural and never looks at it.
Because it's diffrent.

Ethan was diffrent.....


I don't think they liked that very much.



<sub>she was the girl that sat in the far back corner of the classroom that everyone thought was bi-polar. Only, she wasn't, she was only trying on personalities like clothes in a department store to see which ones fit best.

[in the end, she bought the clothes that her classmates liked the most because it seemed to her it was better to be loved by others, than it was to love herself. she never really knew how to love herself anyways, and by senior year in high school, it was too late to start trying]

eventually, she couldn't tell which her was the real one and she ended up hating all of them, but she was never able to throw them out and go shopping again, for fear that none of the stores would have her size and she wouldn't be able to remember which style she liked more anyways.

[she thinks that maybe, one day, she'll go to the mall on black friday, even though she missed it this year, because she was scared that all the skirts would be gone before she even got to the highway. In reality, she never even got past the driveway]

one day, she says she's going to look in the mirror and see herself

[but the mirror cracked before she could even open her eyes again]</sub>

Cracked

by ~SugarCoveredDreams



The Ghosts Of You.

Draino is bitter.

But it's lips taste so much better
than the ghost of you.

I loathe every second of distance between our hands.

Remember that day

When we poured our hearts out onto the sleeves of our enemies

And never said a word?

Or the day when....there was just day.

No symbolism in the words

"I love you"

"Don't go"

Please don't go.

I love you more than I'm supposed to,

And I'm not okay with that.

I just

I miss the morning smile that created spring

And the lost eyelash I find on my pillow as a little reminder that

Everything falls like gravity

But hits hard like a brick

And loves like we do.

Sometimes....

Sometimes I believe I can kill people with all the hate I have burried inside me,

But I never do because hate passes.

Like everything passes by in the wind, change colors to form

the rainbow.

I saw you in the rainbow today....

And I missed you.

I miss every day

Every hour

Every second where I am left with the ghost of you.

Us.

And I think...

Why have I let myself get to this point where

The mirror won't even show a reflection....

Disappointing.

SILENCE

Our silence is their greatest power.
Our voice is our greatest strength.
To listen is the greatest support.
To discuss is the greatest step,
Towards progress.

Ask and you shall recieve

You can't make them love you,
but we can make them hear.

It's not that they don't love you,
it's just that their deaf.

And it's not that I don't hear you,
it's just that I have nothing to say in return.

They have so much to say,
and each word so perfectly piosoness,
My words have no meaning
compaired to their sentances.

I'm always hear for you,
as they visit once every sun rise

But they make the sun rise,
And I can't be here forever.

I can hold your hand until it's over,
but I can't help it end quicker.

I can't pretend that i'm not real,
but you can ask me to be.

Ask and you shall recieve,
just don't ask them to love you.

They already do.

Dead Flowers

I keep dead flowers
In my window in hopes that
They're just pretending.

It Felt Good To Be A Liar

They called her a whore because she danced naked in the rain.
Oh how I long to be that shallow girl, the one who never
Gave a single fuck.
I've kept a straight head, looked down all my life
But I've got a secret. I know what the stars look like when they cry.

The look like my reflection in the puddle
that the supposed whore dances in.
Mucking up the lies
of someone perfect.
Who is despratly trying to mess up
to remind herlsef that she is in fact, human.

She used to write secrets on bathroom walls
Kohl eyeliner scrawled on the stalls
Singing secrets to strangers,
Weeping on the sidewalk.
She's a thousand words
Ugly parts that make up
And ugly whole
Or, at least,
that's what society shoves down her throat
But she can't throw this food up

Let's make a deal
That I will love you
Longer than you'll ever love me

So that way I can become you
and you can desipate into the shadow of something you've never wanted to be
And I can be your life  support
And you can be the penicilin
And we can play pretned until the
stars stop weeping
and the rain stops
but we continue to dance because
we want to.

Class, turn to page thirty seven
Here you have an example of a girl
Fighting for her life,
Clutching on to any plastic beliefs that she can.

(Stolen Poetry Peice by Hayley, from http://daydreamerinsomniac.deviantart.com/ )

Beyond The Sky There Is Love

Everyone has a story.
And it is always a story told by the sky.
Because the sky is there avery day.
And the sky is different every day.
And the sky tells our story.
Tells our story to the whole world.
Because the world is the beggining
of every story
and the end is only a minor detail
in the fable we weave.

This? Is only a chapter in our lives
A fraction of a sentance.
Because beyond the sky?
Is something more.
Something bigger than this stroy,
Bigger than every story.

Maybe it's love.

OIr maybe, it's just more sky.

These Words Are A Loaded Bullet. And I'm Aiming For Your Head.

These words are a loaded bullet

Set in motion

Breaking the sound waves

Aimed in the sights

Pointing directly into your mouth

Because if you heard half of the shit

That comes out of your mouth

You would pull the trigger too

You

You are drowning in your

Crooked philosophy

Drowning just to see

The pretty colors as you

Look up from the bottom

Of the ocean

To see the glimmering

Sun peaking out from under

The armpits of this universe

These words?

These words are a blanket

Suffocating us

Smothering us with hatred for this

This loving feeling I have for you

I want to cradle you into my

Gut and give you everything that you lack

But even the sun can't give someone

Necessity

Want

Drive

Desire

Love.

Everything comes down to love

Because no one ever has it

Except the people you don't know

And never will meet.

Words

Words are the only thing that really

Have love

Words are the epitome

Of our existence

And I don't know if

I'm going crazy or

If I’m just in love

Because I'm drowning in these words

And if you don't

Shut up for once in your god damn life

And kiss me now

I swear to whatever god you worship

I will pull that trigger

With the three bullets called

I Love You.