the real me

ive never been one for goodbyes, so here's to a new hello. here's to not caring cause were all gonna die anyways, am I right Nelson???

anyways, its good to finally meet the real you. now here's the real me.

if you really knew me, you would know im actually really shy

and you would know I cant count without using my fingers and the song is the only way I can recite the alphabet.

if you really knew me you would know I fall easy
and fail almost every math test ever taken
and I think I might have insomnia some nights

if you knew the real me you would know I have a dimple the size of Antarctica and a birthmark on my left leg that has bugged me my entire life

if you really knew me you would know I obsess over little things.

you would know that hugging is awkward and kissing is weird
and you would know that I bite my nails when im nervous
and nothing makes me more nervous than talking in front of people


if u really knew me you would know that my sister and I have been inseparable since birth yet i still don't want her to read my blog

and if you really knew me, you would know I sing along to every song


 you would know I get super awkward when other people cry
you would know I moved here cause my dad lost his job and we didn't have a house

so heres to the real me, the real us.

ive found myself here, finally arrived in paris, and im here to stay.


thanks to all of my fellow travelers for the comments and reassurance. and thanks to nelson for opening my eyes

yours truly,
Summer Smith

how could i forget

 

I remember painting with my fingers rather than a brush at three
I remember being four and wishing I could go to school already
I remember a squeaky swing set when I was five
 
 
I remember overalls and braided hair at six
 I remember crooked teeth at seven
 i remember when birthday wishes were for baby dolls when I was eight
 

I remember leap frog on the black pavement at nine
 I remember at ten looking in the mirror and being perfectly content with who stared back

 
I remember at age 11 burying my face into my moms arms at grandpas funeral. only because everyone else was crying and I wasn't. 
 I remember at twelve years old, watching my grandma die and hearing my dad say it was okay to leave.

I remember the first boy I liked, he had a crush on me in the eighth grade
 I remember sticking love notes in green lockers


I remember at fourteen taking sunday walks and stealing red apples off the trees.
 I remember you whispering "everything is going to be alright" and it was, everything was alright at fifteen

I remember at sixteen how my first kiss was gross and weird
and how my second kiss was even worse



 I remember intertwined fingers at seventeen and how I still get butterflies
 
I remember being seventeen and wishing I could be five again
I remember being seventeen and wishing I still painted with my fingers and played leap frog on the pavement and filled my baths with bubbles and was content with my face and still wore overalls.
 Im seventeen

I remember



             cause how could I forget

lost souls

beatinghearts

 

I always like to write my thoughts out on paper first because it makes them seem more real.

 



 

 

when you take an anatomy class the teacher teaches you how the human heart works. how it beats like a million times a day and how it connects to every part of you and lets you breathe and move and feel and cry and bleed.

hearts are real


 

and maybe that's when people are in love they say

"you have my heart"

 

 

but when im with you the only beat I notice is silence




 

and the blood doesn't fill my veins till I bleed like they used to

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

hearts are strong but mine can only hold on for so much longer

 

 

 

 

 

because a heart only lasts one lifetime and im running on empty....

 

 

 

maybe its time to take a trip to the gas station. id rather have gas than nothing at all.

 

 





 

 to feel my pulse thrive again

and remember what it feels like when your sixteen and his lips are interlocked with yours

 


 

 

cause hearts only beat for one lifetime

 

 

 

                                                                                             and im running on empty

 

 

monsters and sea turtles

 

 

the highest peak in the world, to us, is just down the street.

 

 

 

we've got thorns in our hair but it all makes sense when you stand above the noise

 

 

 

 

the leaves died but our hearts still beat

 

 

 

blue skies don't amaze me like they use to, but that sunset tonight was a bonfire in the sky

 

 

 

and my favorite thing about you is the burning stars in your eyes

 

 

as you look at me under the dull stars above us. the sky cant hear your heart beat

 

 

 

 

 

clouds are just clouds...

 

without you.

 

 

 

 

clouds once were monsters and sea turtles

 

 

 

 

but the dust still lingers in my dreams

 

 

 

 

blackbirds sing a tune just for us as the earth will never be black again

 

 

 

 

 

the sky is fire tonight

 

 

 

 

and clouds are monsters and sea turtles again

 

 

 

 

monsters and sea turtles

 

 

 

and treasure chests

 

 

 

like they once were

 

 

 

 

with you, I see it all again

sincerely yours

Dear Death,


    please leave, if you could, never come back.

                sincerely yours,
                         elle rose

the tears that never show on the outside that are the most painful. your heart is grasping for air, desperate to be free, punching and kicking till you can no longer fight back. your head is telling you no, they wont understand, but your heart is still beating, fighting this impossible battle against your head.


we will never understand what he went through last night. death stared him straight in the face and took him away from us, which sucks. death sucks.

death stole away my puppy too. and took my grandma along for the ride as well.

death is like an annoying scar that will never leave.

no matter what you do to avoid him, he will always come back.


            

            

when you look down

an airplane is flying through the shallow clouds as i write

when you are in a airplane, and look down, all you see are lines, grids, dots

we miss what is actually happening down there. you dont see the lives. the happiness, the sadness, the longing and disappointments, and you cant see the fears 






all you see are lines 
but people are more than a bunch of lines 

up in the air, you miss the lies being told

the hearts being broken

the tears running down his face

the child skipping through the sprinklers

the tears running down her face

the soup being slurped

the drilling of the dentist

the sunday night conversations

the boy never to return home, taken

the songs being sung around a fire

and the fights

and the girl alone in a crowd 

and the arguments over nothing

and the fears of a mom for her lost child

fears.

we fear the inevitable, and the unknown. but its deeper than that, we fear the restless dark nights when we cant fall asleep

the jeans we pull over our legs

and the way our legs look in them

and the yelling

our teachers

and if we are smart enough for it

and if our hair is greasy

and if we will live a successful life

 if we will get married

and our faces that have ten zits

or if our fathers will ever come home tonight

and how i will die

and when i will die

or worse, when you die

or even worse, when you leave me

or if our lives are just a puzzle, with missing pieces, impossible to fit together

 i dont know if it ever will now

as much as i try to block these voices out, they always come back.

never enough hours in a day

never enough hours to say goodbye 

there are never enough hours in a day for me to tell you how i feel



to tell you i love you, so much 

there are never enough hours in a day to cry it all out, all the pain and fears and disappointments

there are never enough hours for me to ever catch up in my homework 

there are never enough hours for me to encourage, serve, lift, save, create, dance, sing, laugh

i feel overwhelmed 

i wish i could slow down time

...but the clock keeps ticking 

9 ways to see the world

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

why your my favorite place to be

 

the smell of deep pine and deserted campfires

 

 

the colors of your face make my heart skip a beat

 

 

 

red

orange

yellow

 

 

 

 

I feel insignificant yet powerful standing under your towering walls

 

 

 

running through your trails makes me feel not only completely free but completely alive as your crisp breath runs through my lungs, pulling and pulling till I can no longer move.

 

 

 

 

 my legs are crying yet I feel nothing but pure joy adventuring through your trails

 

 

 

and then I stand still and take it all in, looking around me I see you for everything you are

 

a friend, a masterpiece, a place to get away from it all

 

 

 

 

 

I don't know what I would do without you during these times when all I need is to get away from everything for a while

 

that's why your my favorite place to be

 

 

 

 I traveled to an island in the middle of the pacific this past summer.

 

 

 

 

 

I was not a tourist.

 

 

 

 

 

I lived with the incredible people there for about three weeks

 

 

 

 

and I built a kindergarten

 

 

 

 

 

I got to really know their life stories and lived as they did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

their beautiful, bright, smiling faces and laughter left me knowing that there is a supreme creator of us all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"All things denote there is a God"  

whatiftheworldwasupsidedown

love is not a brick

love scares me too. I wish I could understand it better, but its not a brick. I cant hold it, throw it away or break it.

love changes, it comes and it goes, its pure bliss one moment and a dark bruised sky the next.

 

 

 

                                   its unpredictable
  its fearful


 

the show must go on

the other day I caught myself laughing at something I didn't even think was funny. I just laughed cause everyone else was laughing and I thought then maybe I should.

 

 

 

 

 

I put on a show too much for the people around me.

 

 

 

 

 

 actors. we are all a little fake

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

cause sometimes its too hard to be who I really am. maybe that's just cause I don't really know exactly who I am yet.

 

 

 

its almost impossible not to put on some sort of act through high school. we each have the need to fit in. I admit it, I do.

 

 

 

 

but so do you

 

 

 

 

as does the cheerleader who hates cheerleading but does it cause its cool

 and the kid that started doing drugs, not cause he wanted to but he did it to fit in

 and the kids who cheat their way through every test

 or the "hipster"

 and the girl who has a million and two followers but not many friends

 and the kid who fakes a smile. inside you might be miserable. but its easier to smile then explain why your sad

 

 

don't worry I get it



ive been there

 

 

 

im pretty sure we all have...

 

 

 

we put on masks.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 all of us are actors in this production of life. and sometimes im the biggest faker of all.

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

banana pancakes

boy, lets fall in love. lets stay up till 3am talking on the phone, not wanting to say goodbye. lets bake cookies in my moms kitchen and get covered in flour from our heads to our toes. lets laugh about it for hours. lets eat all the cookie dough till we can no longer move. lets find a meadow and watch the ancient stars all night like some cliché junior high kids. lets be cute and write songs about love and sing them to each other even though we both suck at singing.

but who cares.

 lets climb a mountain and scream something stupid at the top cause no one else can hear it. lets blast the music in your crappy car, singing as loud as we can. lets spend a day in the library cause we have nothing better to do than read poetry to each other.


lets pretend nothing else matters.

lets paint my room red and get paint in our hair. lets visit paris and eat fancy chocolate. lets tell each other our darkest secrets and cry in each others arms when we are hurt. lets make banana pancakes and pretend like its the weekend. lets fly a kite and get it stuck in a tree. lets drive to the middle of no where and lets kiss each other cause no one will be watching us

finally.

lets forget about everyone else, lets forget about everything else. boy, lets fall in love.

People shape our lives

I want to take time to thank some people. These people don't know im writing about them, maybe im writing about you and you would never know it...

 

 

 

 

 To the amazing women who brought me into this world. Who was not only my mother and preschool teacher but she has been my best friend. The kind of friend that you know will always be there for you even when you hurt them. Sorry for all the mean words I've said to you mom, but thanks for always being there anyways.

 

 

 

 

To the man who has been my biggest support. Coming to every game, cheering me on, and watching out for me with everything, especially the boys that come to the door. Thanks dad.

 

 

 

 

To the childhood friend who I grew up with since birth. You savored your childhood and never wanted to grow up, thanks for bringing me along with you. You taught me to dream. Disneyland was our playground every week as a kid. I will never forget those happy days. Thanks.

 

 

 

 

 

To the beautiful little girl who came into my life at just two years old, and changed my life for the better. We've been by each other's sides all these years. From the bubble baths and dress up together as children to now experiencing high school together, its been quite the adventure. Thanks sis.

 

 

 

 

 

To my four best friends. I wouldn't want to go through high school with anyone else. We've been inseparable from the time we first met at the swimming pool that warm summer afternoon. And we have been dancing, singing, running, crying and laughing like the crazy high school girls that we are each day since. Thanks, for always giving me something to smile about.

 

 

 

 

 

And to the big man upstairs who has given me everything, given me life. I cant thank you enough.

A tribute to Robin Williams

 

You might only remember him as the famous man who committed suicide about a month ago, but I remember him as more than that, I hope you do too.

 

 

Robin Williams was a huge part of my childhood. I grew up watching movies like Flubber, Jumanji, Mrs. Doubtfire, RV, and many more. I could sit there for hours, fully entertained as a child, laughing at this crazy man.  

 

Although he consistently put a smile on my face, he wasn't just a comedian. He taught me to be happy and surround myself with people that build me up and make me feel alive.

"I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone."

 

 Robin Williams was a brilliantly crazy man with a enthusiasm for life that taught me that its okay to be a little crazy.

 

 

"You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it."

Thanks for making my childhood just that much better Robin, you'll be missed.

 

 

Imperfection

What makes me HUMAN?

...

 

SOS

 

I have written this post and deleted it about five times now....I just cant seem to make it perfect. I have major writers block.

 

I guess that's what makes me human. I'm not perfect.

 

Sorry guys, ill write more next week, right now im fine with this imperfect post.

How to be happy

         Dear Future Self,

 

        Breathe.

 

         You are enough.

 

         You have enough.

 

        Be confident.

 

       Be you.

 

          Stop waiting for Friday, for summer, for someone to fall in love with you, for life. Happiness is achieved when you stop waiting for it and make the most of the moment you are in now.

 

      Be happy.

 

   Be crazy.

 

    Be stupid.

 

      Enjoy today.

I was a kid once

 

I remember a time when the color blue didn't mean sadness or loss but was a color of the sky above.

 

I remember a time when I didn't care at all what others thought of what I did, what I made or how I looked. As a kid I painted, I danced, I sang, I drew, for me.

 

I remember a time when the color red had nothing to do with feelings of rage or anger, but was the color of sunsets, fire trucks, and candy canes.

 

I remember that time. I was a kid once.

And I too had my crayons of creativity stolen from me, and its time to take them back. Cause im pretty pissed at the person who taught me to only draw inside the lines. And I don't appreciate whoever taught me to erase the "mistakes" I made. As a child there were no mistakes, only art. There is still that kid inside each of us, so let your imagination be free again, only then can we take back what is rightfully ours. Because I believe that "the creative adult is the child who survived."

 

Just Be Yourself

                 Just be yourself. My heart races as I type because first impressions scare me.  People say "just be yourself," but who am I? I am not Elle Rose. Elle Rose is a nickname I made up for Eleanor Roosevelt, a women who inspires me to stand up and fight for what I believe. She inspires me to not care what others think. So who cares what you think. Maybe I am being too blunt with you, but we have to be honest on here....right?

               Eleanor Roosevelt. I chose this women because she is a women of character. At a young age, both her parents as well as her brother died, suffered with depression, and criticized by millions for what she believed in, she overcame the obstacles in her life to become "one of the most esteemed women in the world" and "the object of almost universal respect." She fought tirelessly for human rights, and was greatly involved in movements such as the World Peace movement and a leader in the Civil Rights movement.

I don't want to be just me. I want to be like her.

                Elle Rose is just a name to hide who I really am. Be honest, be real, just be yourself. Its as if I am getting interviewed for a job right now-palms sweating, heart racing, hands shaking-like I said, I am not very good at first impressions.

I am the girl who hasn't made her mark in the world. Yet.
I am the girl who stays up all night worried about the future.
I am the girl who eats breakfast any time of the day,
who loves being outside, exploring the beauty of Gods creations.
I am the girl who loves learning but hates math.
I am the girl who wants to love and be loved,
who eats sweet potato fries like its my job.
I am the girl who wants to make the most out of life while I still can.
I am the girl who you don't truly know. Yet.

"Life must be lived and curiosity kept alive. One must never, for whatever reason, turn his back on life." Eleanor Roosevelt


-Elle Rose