Neverland 1.30.16

Sometimes, I have this tendency to worry about people more than I should. Thinking about them missing out or not receiving something personally bothers me. I can't explain why I'm like that, but I am. 

It breaks my heart to watch my peers go through things and not be taken seriously. 

Or even worse- go through things and become a statistic. 

And the worst of all- some of them didn't survive things and became a statistic that nobody wants to be. 

I personally have been through things that most thirty-year-olds wouldn't get through successfully. 

But this isn't really about me, all that much.

 

You see, I have some friends who are absolutely the best people in the world. However, despite their greatness and awesomeness, they are reduced to next to nothing by the words of people who either brought them into the world/raised them or people that they've trusted when those people weren't there. 

Hear me please, my dear friends, and anyone else who doesn't feel like you are anything but a failure... You are so much more than what any of these pathetic individuals have to say about you. 

But I know that a couple of you don't even think that. You think I'm lying, because it would be impossible to believe such things about yourselves... That breaks my heart, guys. 

You are not that number on your report card. 

Nor are you your mother, or your father. 

You aren't going to be a bad mom/dad. 

You aren't a "spitting image" of whomever someone has said you are to hurt you. 

You are more than what that boy says about you. 

You are more than what that girl says about you. 

It is okay to be brave.

It is okay to be wrong sometimes!

You don't have to be perfect.

You are not a failure.

You are intelligent

smart

kind

beautiful

appealing

worth it

going to amount to something

lovable

unstoppable 

brave

and you're going to be someone...

no. matter. what. 

We as humans often forget the most precious aspect of being human, and that is that we have this unbound capability to care for people. We even care for the people who hurt us. 

Over, 

and over,

and over again.

We let toxic people stay in our lives because we feel like we owe it to them. We grow up too fast because society deems having the heart and spirit of a child to be "childish." People start telling us that we're failures, and we believe them. We're raised and conditioned to believe that it is our job as the "future of the world/America/{insert your country here}" to conform and have no say. 

Girls are told that they're asking for it when they dress for a hot day.

That boy that can draw and write and do all of the things you can't is told that he is a failure because he can't do math. 

Young couples are shamed about pursuing a future because their brains aren't ready for that decision, but

young people in general are forced to make financially petrifying decisions about schooling for a career that we might not even want in 10 years. 

Being sexually open makes you a pervert, a fag, a slut, a whore, or sinful

BUT 

Hiding your sexuality makes you prude, immature, and ignorant. 

Some of my friends have played massive roles in raising their siblings, assisting sick grandparents, working jobs to feed their families, or have withstood abuse for the sake of protecting someone else. They have suffered through things that they never should have, all for the sake of pleasing or helping someone. 

HOW CAN WE JUST STAND BY AND WATCH THIS HAPPEN?

Listen, guys, I know that most of my readers are above the age of 14, and I'm speaking to even some of you... 

But mostly to my peers and older. 

I'm talking to the 17 year olds who let their boyfriends control their cellphones. 

I'm talking to the 30 year olds who don't help the elderly man carry his groceries, or say something to someone about that mom that just cussed out her kid. 

I'm talking about those 50 year olds who blame my generation for all of the corruption in the world, when we haven't even had a legal say so until this year. 

I'm talking to all of the elderly people who think that they are too old or too good to help someone... 

If you know that your voice is going to make someone angry, but you also know that it could make a difference, then why on earth would you make a decision to let someone remain in pain to save your own behind?! 

When did humanity become so shrouded in fear? 

Why is self-sacrifice such a bad thing? 

I have friends that would be in higher places if someone would just tell them something kind. You don't have to make a dangerous outspoken comment to make a difference. Just know that when a situation arises, that you need to defend them and encourage them. You need to ignore the consequences as they apply to you, and recklessly defend the hurting person in front of you. 

And to my friends struggling? 

Live every day like your mission in life is getting to Neverland. 

Never stop wishing on stars or dreaming far-fetched dreams. Don't lose hope. Wipe off your tears... or don't! Sob, cry it out, have good hugs, kiss with passion, love with caution, believe in your future with everything. Play games, board games, video games... Talk to your imaginary friends. Bake a cake. Bake cookies. Run, dance, laugh, play. 

Because those people who say that Neverland doesn't exist are the ones who prolong it's existence every day. Those people telling you to grow up? Man, I feel sorry for them, because they're never going to experience the awesomeness that is being 100% sure of themselves... No matter what age they are inside. 

Neverland is that place in life that you want to get to when you'll never have to go through it again. Yeah, times might still be tough when you get to Neverland. Peter Pan even had to fight some pirates every once in a while. But that didn't make it any less beautiful, or make him want to leave it behind. He defended that place with everything. 

And that's what we all need to do as well.

Defend Neverland for yourself, and for everyone else. 

I love you guys... 

-Tori <3 

"Hello Goodbye" 1.25.16

Hi everyone. 

As some of you know, two years ago a very dear friend of mine passed away. He was probably the best friend that I ever had as a kid, and a man who inspired so many of the dreams that I have today. (For those of you who don't know, I'm talking about my Grandad.) 

He was a remarkable man, even though he was far from perfect. I remember the final year of his life vividly. 

He taught me things about the house that I live in that I didn't know. On a spring day, he showed me all of the flowers around the house and told me what they were and why he liked them. His hugs were tighter, maybe it just seemed like that because I was growing taller. I haven't grown much since he passed, but I'm sure that my brother has reached the height that my grandad once towered over everyone with. 

I miss his voice. I miss the obscenities he used to scream at the TV when NASCAR was on. I remember the low tenor sound as he would sing to me. Mom told me that when I was little he sang to me... I was very sick when I was little, and he was a security blanket in a lot of ways. I was bullied in elementary school, and when I turned to imaginary friends, he saw them. He knew their names, their personalities, and the way that they all looked. 

I never imagined starting the biggest year of my life without him. 

I always imagined the proud look that he would have on his face when I would go to tell him what colleges had accepted me. He had trouble walking, and wasn't supposed to go out a lot, but I had no doubt that he would come to my graduation and be on his feet cheering when my name was read. I always imagined him laughing at mom and dad for saying that my driving is crazy, and telling them that I take after him. 

My heart is filled with so much grief as I realize that he will not spend any of these remarkable occasions in my presence. If you believe in Heaven, I guess it's up to you to decide whether or not he will be with me in spirit. At least God can tell him or something? I don't know how that works. 

Maybe they have wifi in Heaven, and he reads these blogs just like everyone else. (Of course, blogger isn't monitoring traffic from Heaven.)

I just miss him. I considered writing him a letter to tell him that. Then I realized that I just needed to talk about him. 

It's so strange to know that this year I become an adult, and that he (as well as my grammy and my nana), who had so much influence on who I am as an individual now, will never know the adult me. 

I know, however, that I have certainly inherited his stubbornness and strong will through my mother. She inherited it, and passed it on to to me. It has turned me into this wonderful, free-thinking individual. I think of him every time I have to stand my ground. He is still apart of my everyday life, even though he isn't on this earth anymore. 

I will never get to discuss politics at the dinner table with the adults. That was always a big thing. I think that when I started speaking up and siding with my Uncle Jack that a lot of people started worrying that I would end up liberal. Grandad would've made jokes regarding the Democratic animal, but he would do it with a twinkle in his eye as he smiled at me for choosing to think for myself.

We have a New Years tradition that involves fixing cabbage rolls (it's probably just a West Virginia thing), and putting a dime in one of them afterwards. Whoever gets the dime is said to be financially blessed for the following year. Well, for the past two years, I've found the dime. (Let's hope that all of that luck is real, because student loans are about to become a real thing.) I found it once or twice when I was little, and he always teased me about it. However, if I didn't get it, he'd somehow manage to give me a dime himself and tell me that I still got it. 

It's funny to me that things like that haven't happened in two years. 

Our house is free of random trinkets and things that he once bought, thanks to my extended family. After he died, they all but raped my house, throwing out everything that belonged to him. Now, the things I have inherited are treasures. The memories that I hold in my heart are treasures, 

If you've lost someone, I'm sure that you can relate firsthand. I spend so much time trying not to think about the days of the month when it's January. That's a new thing for me.

I don't have a proper way to memorialize him, either. He was cremated, and I am unsure of where his ashes ended up. He has no headstone. There is no memorial in his honor. I am a living legacy of him, as is my mother. He always said he didn't have favorites, but I disagree. I know hands down that I was his favorite, and so was my mom. ;) 

I know that it hasn't exactly been two years yet, but it is very close. This month has been a roller coaster, to say the very least. Things have been upside down and backwards, and the added on grief of knowing that it's been two whole years since he died is...unbelievable. I keep happening across pictures of him. Jeopardy can come on and literally reduce me to a puddle of tears. 

People think that I'm opinionated because I like starting drama, which is the furthest thing from true. I am opinionated because I watched him. I studied him, almost. Even subconsciously I think I did it. 

So grandad, wherever you are right now, know that I miss you. I miss everything, all of the good, even some of the bad. At least when you were fussing I could still hear the sound of your voice. I'll quit being sappy now, but I certainly hope that Heaven is a paradise where every single day is a zip-a-dee-doo-da day.

To put it simply, you said goodbye, and I'm saying hello. 
(It doesn't feel right to not quote the Beetles at least one time in this. It is definitely necessary.) 

Thank you guys for reading. I love you all so much, and I'm so thankful for everyone who reads this blog and cares about what I have to say. If anyone is struggling with this, I hope that knowing you aren't alone helps in some way.

-Tori 

p.s. Thank you all for 3,000 reads. It's...unreal to me. This time last year I was rejoicing over 500 reads, and now? It's more than tripled in reads. Thank you all for coming along this journey of writing and sharing and trying to make sense of things with me. It means the world. :)

Bridges of Holy Fire (previously entitled "My First Slam Poem") 1.24.16

Hi babes!

So my friend Erica and I discovered a thing called Slam Poetry, and let me tell you, it's insanely powerful. So glad she tagged me in it, because I really needed to allow myself to let loose with it.

My personal favorite so far is entitled "Attention Whore." It's pretty self explanatory, but feel free to look it up on YouTube.

Anyways, recently I've been dealing with some stuff and lost some friends over a disagreement in opinion. In the words of many people, I guess that they weren't my friends to begin with. They may feel free to lurk in the shadows of my world, and click like on my pictures and statuses, but they are not anyone that I wish to associate with my name.

Maybe my fatal flaw is that I cannot just... solely believe something because I am told. It is not as Pink Floyd said- I cannot let my voice and beliefs be just another brick in the wall.

I have to let them be heard, somehow... You know? I know that some people think that I'm abrasive, and I have been called overbearing to those who don't know me too well. Those who know me well tell me that though I may sometimes scare them, that they admire my outright courage to just be me and say what I need to say.

I know that this poem that I have added on, which is entirely in bold text, will offend some people. Probably not my blog readers, buuuuut some people. I hope that you can look past the end of your own nose and try to understand what I'm saying. It's more powerful than it seems.

In a way, writing this poem was a death to someone I used to identify as.

Now? I identify with myself. I don't need a group of people or an organization to define who I am or what I believe. I know what I believe. I've seen miracles, experienced things... I know God is real.

So without further rambling, here is my first ever Slam Poem, entitled "Bridges of Holy Fire."

Love you guys,

-Tori <33

Bridges of Holy Fire

Words vomit out of my mouth faster than I can stop them

Defensive and brave and... offensive and They hold me bound as a slave and question me in the eyes of those I once called friend But friends aren't people who shame and provoke you into making decisions out of utter disgust and loathing and force you to believe that you are.... what they say you are or are they? They are the ones that encourage your dreams And build up your hearts desires Until they are not one and they burn all of you bridges with their so-called Holy Fire. Believing that they are oh so holy, and that your breathing is now a waste of oxygen as your opinions begin to shatter the mere internal pen of thoughts that this organization holds Breathing at all while you are surrounded by the smoke of the burning roadways that cause you to choke, and sputter for words that won't hurt them until you look back and cannot see their eyes and that their souls no longer hold relevance Friendship is a knot that you have always tied with tender care a double-Windsor tightly looped and pulled and to watch the ropes that you used to bind your oath of friendship with that become the noose that holds you in place among the fire- You exhale. You breathe in the smoke, and breathe out a carbon monoxide poisoned version of who you used to be and what you used to stand for and suddenly.. Black lungs are clear and suddenly you realize that the holy fires that they burned your bridges with revealed the roads that a wise man named Frost spoke of... They diverge as your soul, You travel, by and by, and inhale the wind of the world, that pollutes your lungs and tastes of nicotine- but bears sweeter a taste than the holy smoke ever did. Words are free to come and go out of your mouth as they once did and now the freedom and liberation Of simply being HUMAN is enough- The offensive eloquence in your voice beings to align with the rhythm of your heart and thumps for the first time to a rhythm not derived from someone else's 

"scripture."

Just an Update! 1.13.16

Hi friends! Have you missed me? 

It has been a LOOOONG couple of months. I've considered writing, but never got around to it. But here I am now! 

Let's talk Christmas really quick. I got some cute clothes from mom and dad, and some merch from my brother. I also got candy, which might have been my favorite part. I think I enjoyed watching mom and dad open their presents most of all.

Anyways, I got a late Christmas present from Patrick (if you guys haven't been here for very long, Patrick is my not-boyfriend/best friend that I trust more than anyone else on earth except for my mom.) He got me the PRETTIEST little ring in the world, and I am in love with it. He's kind of special. ;) 

Having decorations up this year was...weird. Considering that this is the first time that this house has been decorated for Christmas without nana and grandad in it. It was beautiful though. We undecorated (is that a word???) this past weekend. It was kind of sad. 

Yesterday would've been nana's 77th birthday, and... I miss her. I miss her a lot. 

OH! It's also the final stretch of senior year. I'm in a college class, and the rest of my classes are easy. (Two of them pertain to musical theater, the other is an office aid block that doesn't count for credit.) I mostly sit on my phone all day when I'm not singing, dancing, MATHING, or running errands. The battery dies really quickly. #FirstWorldProblems 

~

On a rather random note, semester exams went pretty well. 

Except for, you know, one class. 

I studied. Like, I don't study for anything. You guys should know me well enough to know that. Studying is ew on so many levels. 

However, my AP Literature exam scared the living daylights out of me, so I looked up and annotated the poems. I studied my butt off for that stupid test. (Yes, stupid. The whole purpose of the class was stupid. Ugh. Thank God for second semester and the freedom of speech so that I may now air my opinion for the world.) 

So I go in to take the test, with my needed AND ALLOWED note sheet and nothing else. I whizzed through the test pretty quickly, and was the first to turn it in. 

By the end of the day, I kid you not, everyone in the class thought that I'd cheated on that stupid exam. TO CLEAR THE RECORD: I didn't cheat. I don't believe in it, would never do it, thank you very flipping much. :)

The teacher ended up telling another student or two that my friend and I made an "evil pact" to cheat on the exam because our scores were so similar. ...She scored seven points higher than I did. Pardon me for failing to see my teacher's so-called logic. 

I'm still salty about it. But I got a 91, and I'm 150% okay with that! :D

~ 

Well, that's all the massively important stuff that I had to say. 

I'll write more when I get closer to graduation, I'm sure. 

Speaking of, I've been accepted to:

-West Virginia University

-Marshall University

-Concord University 

-Wheeling Jesuit University (I'm a presidential scholar there.) 

I have no idea where I'm gonna go. I'm submitting my finalized essays and application to UNC sometime this week... Prayers would be lovely. 

I'll be back soon! 

-Tori :)

p.s. only 129 days left until our graduation here!!!!