The forest is my room.

The air seemed static around me, raising the hair on the back of my neck. I looked into the sky, the grey gloomy clouds were rolling in. From a far you could see the light come from the clouds and strike down on the ground.  Sheets of rain followed behind the dark cloud. In the distance I could hear the booms of thunder.

“Molly!” My mother called, “Please come inside the storm is coming.”

I grabbed the book that lay on my lap and bolted into the house, not wanting to get caught outside in the rain. Mom sat in the chair her hair pulled into a tight pony tail like it always was. She was staring at the wall, her eyes glazed over. I walked past her and ran into my room, skipping every other step on the staircase.

My room was neat for a 10 year old’s, my bed was made and all of my clothes were put away in the bureau. My cat, snuggie, was curled up on my pillow. I walked over to him, resting my head right by his body.

“Hey buddy you won’t leave me this storm?” I muttered to snuggie.

She nuzzled her cold wet nose into my face, I took that as a no. The rain began to beat down onto the house making it’s own melody on the panels. Snuggies ears perked up at the sound of the rain on the panels. He made the weird squeaky noise that we called meowing and pawed at my face.

“What is it?” I asked him softly, my voice barley going over a whisper.

He “meowed” again  and I took that as a notion to look outside. It was dark, it looked like it was night time. The sky was beginning to have a circus and a light show. I squeezed my eyes shut as the thunder got closer and closer.

I don’t like thunder and never have. I was sensitive to loud noises, ever since the fights. There was a loud crack and then the sky lite up. Snuggie and I jumped, his claws digging into my soft skin making me cry out in pain and then hit him softly on the nose. I pulled my book out from under me, somehow I laid down on the book. I took it out and to get away from the sounds of the storm and got lost in the adventure that lay before me. Snuggie began to purr in my ear as I read on and together we waited out the storm.

I opened my window, the humidity lay over my like a blanket. I leaned out my window the trees bending down from the weight of the water. It smelt like rain, the mix of pine and the fallen sky. I closed my eyes and got lost in the smell. If I closed my eyes it felt like I was in the forest rather than my room. The wooden sill that was digging into my hip bone was a tree branch that I was leaning on to look at the river that was close to over flowing. The trees of the forest bent down to me to tell me the secrets of the trees. I listened. I parted my lips to let the scent roll onto my tongue and I could almost taste the fog and pine. Snuggies nose on my elbow was a snail crawling onto my arm from the branch digging into my hip bone.

The rushing sound of my imaginary river kept me calm and safe. There was a knock on my door, bringing me out of my forest.

“Molly,” my mother said softly against the wood of the door frame “Can you come help me with dinner?”

I sighed and pushed off of the window sill, closing it before I left my room. Snuggie following behind me.

A teenagers view on Time Travel

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Today I am sick, and when I am sick I have a lot of time to sit and think. But luckily for you, the reader, I am not thinking about my “love life” or what I am going to do with my life. I am thinking about time travel.

Time travel is a complex and very confusing thing. As the 10th Doctor has said “People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but *actually* from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint – it’s more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly… time-y wimey… stuff.” To understand time travel one must understand time. Everyone knows what time is, we have grown up knowing what it is. As little kids we know that there is the past, which has happened before us, there is the present which is what is happening right now at this very second and then it turns into the past, and then lastly there is the future. The future has yet to happen, and no one knows what is going to happen in the future. I know as a high schooler who is looking into colleges, I stress about the future.

But time is not that simple. Many philosophers have spent years studying it, trying to grasp it.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines time as “a limited stretch or space of continued existence”, or “as the interval between two successive events”.

From what I’ve gathered on the internet there are two main concepts of time. Concept one is Presentism. The thought of presentism is that only the present is real, that the past and future does not exist. Everything occurs in the present and whatever has happened in the past or future does not exist. The second concept Block Universe View is the concept that is more widely used. It is the concept that the past, present and future coexist together. But these concepts do not tell us why we move forward in time, or why we cannot go back into the past.

Now that I have said a very tiny bit on time, I shall dive into the scary wormhole of time travel.

Time travel is moving from one point in time to another point in time. So how do we do that? Do we travel really fast in one direction, of course not, we would just end up break the the sound barrier which is not time traveling. We need to bend time to be able to create wormholes to the point of time we are trying to get to. Wormholes are bridges between time and space that things can travel through.

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Traveling through time has consequences, and they are called paradoxes. The most commonly known paradox is, what would happen if you killed your grandmother? You would then be nonexistent because if your grandmother is dead, then your mother was never born thus you were never born either. But killing your grandmother would lead to many other things not just you not being born. It could lead to many different things, because one person has a huge effect on things. Like say for example, after your grandmothers death it could send your grandfather into depression, leading him to commit suicide. But your grandfather was going to be elected as congress men in the early 2000s, so now they elect someone else. But of course it does not have to be that dramatic.

Time traveling is a dangerous and impossible thing. As a wise wizard once said “Mysterious thing, time. Powerful, and when meddled with, dangerous.”

Community

Community; a noun; A group of people living together in one place, esp. one practicing common ownership: “a community of nuns”. A definition does give a true meaning. Community is more than just a group of people living together, you don’t have to be living together to be a community. A community is when a bunch of people take care and love one another. A community is more than just a group of people, it is the bond that the people share with one another, friend or not.

 

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My poem in Gallifreyan. Gallifreyan is the language of the timelords, it’s from Doctor Who. My poem has nothing to do with Doctor Who I thought it would just look pretty to put into Gallifreyan because it is a beautiful language.

When people say I am perfect
I cringe
I am not perfect
I have flaws, bad habits, and problems
I am a person
And people are not perfect
Perfection is a lie
And I try my hardest not to be a lie

Women are not to blame

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I have grown up in a world where my parents have told me to dress appropriately, so that men’s gaze doesn’t fall upon my body in the way that makes me shrink into myself. They told me that my skirts have to be go past the tips of my fingers, and my shirt cannot show cleavage. But as I grow older I begin to realize how illogical it is. It should not be my duty as a woman to dress so that I do not get touched or harassed by men. It should be the duty of men to not look upon a women with that type of look that makes the cringe and shrink into their bodies and minds. Sometimes what we wear does not stop men from doing that. Sometimes little girls feel the wrath of men who cannot control their urges, and was it what they were wearing set the man off? The answer is mostly likely no.  Maybe instead of teaching young girls how to dress, parents should teach young boys how not to rape, not to make women feel uncomfortable. Then maybe this world will be less fucked.

Woman should not be blamed for their rape, because they were drunk or they were being too provocative or she never said no. Being drunk doesn’t allow anyone access to someones body. Wearing a short, tight dress doesn’t mean she’s asking for it, or that she’s a slut. Just because she never said no does not mean she wants you, if she is pulling away or squirming, she does not want that to be happening.

Ist es nicht schön

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The ringing won’t go away
It keeps me up at night
I cannot concentrate on my love
It never stops, never rests, never ending
It gets louder and louder with every ticking clock
The noises begin to fade, until soon they are gone

Am I going mad?

I stand here in front of an audience of thousands
Their hands moving and striking to make a noise, yet I hear nothing
I am helpless, my love is gone
I stare at the silent crowd of shouting people and weep
But I cannot be sad anymore for what I don’t have
We all lose things at some point in our lives, and we all travel through
I will not let this defeat me
They come to me, with music I cannot hear
But I can feel in the core of my soul

Ist es nicht schön
Is it not beautiful?