At my funeral I do not want
doves or a bed of roses.
You know how much I hate roses, anyway.
Have my sister wear that outfit
she never had enough confidence
with those shoes that never
quite match with anything.
Hire a priest to give a sermon
about how he lost his virginity
or about the flat tire he got
on the way to his divorce court date.
Do not stifle your giggles
or feel guilty when you smile
at my uncle who is falling asleep
in the pew.
It’s okay to delight in unconventionality.
After the service,
I want you to hold hands with the person
you love the most and tell them
they need to use more hand lotion.
I want you to text your boyfriend
a poem that describes his
“shit brown eyes”
and how much you adore them.
On the way to the cemetery
blast The Ramones or anything
from Nirvana’s Incesticide album
and scream all the lyrics
When my casket is lowered into the ground,
do not wipe your eyes or your nose.
Let the wind take away your mess.
When they begin to cover me with dirt
and flowers that pricked your fingers
whisper to my family about how you still
haven’t forgiven me for breaking your
favorite coffee mug.
Maybe you will feel uneasy,
or maybe your lips will tremble.
But as you exhale
and fill your lungs with dry air,
listen to me tap against
the wooden walls of my tomb
and let the rhythm guide the beating
of your heart.
It is okay now.
It will always be okay.
Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.
In which I win the award for best tags.
Swiggity swag I just won a writing award.
Dear people who think short hair makes women less attractive, boring, less mature, lesbians, etc:
Last May, I practically shaved my head. I wanted short hair, and I got it. And I loved it. Others seemed to like it too. It was very easy to care for, I could wear a dress and still look feminine, and I thought it was very pretty and cute. Granted, it is growing out a bit because I haven’t gone to my hairdresser for a haircut since May, but I am dying to have my short hair back. Even though my hair now is only brushing my shoulders.
Now, anyone who is up-to-date with trends people are following nowadays, particularly in Hollywood, know that actresses have been trading their long locks for shorter ones. Not only are stars doing this, but many girls across the country are as well.
Hair, in no way shape or form, should determine the looks and attractiveness of a person. Beauty is an opinion. It is not a fact. It is not something as certain as math, or laws in Physics.
Hair also should never be used determine sexuality, or be used as a way to use that as an adjective towards someone or something you know nothing about. As a person who is a supporter of the LGBT community, I know when the word ‘gay’ or ‘lesbian’ is used as a friendly word (in a group of comfortable friends, for example), or a as a derogatory word used to deter someone from doing something that is “frowned upon” or not up to your standards.
With that, I’m not trying to say that long hair is an awful thing. I know many people with long, beautiful hair. And if you want to grow your hair out, or invest in extensions, by all means: go for it! But if you want to try out short hair, don’t be afraid to! It doesn’t make you ugly, it doesn’t make you less of a woman.
It just makes you a person with short hair. You are no less of a person, you are no less of a woman.
And if you are a person who already has short hair, and you keep seeing all of these people talking about girls with short hair, and how immature and less attractive you are: wear your short hair with pride. Flaunt it, dress it up, be proud. You look great. You have lovely hair, no matter what anyone says.
When you think about it, writers are some of the most confusing creatures.
Because we basically ask to come up with fictional worlds and people (not always fictional, anyway, but usually), sit in front of a computer, type up an in-depth story about these fictional characters in these fictional worlds, let the world read it, then hope they like it enough that you won’t get your power shut off that month.
Then, all we do is complain about how much we hate writing, and how our writing sucks.
But, despite all of that, we know that writing is what we were meant to do. And we never stop, because under all of the complaining and stress, we love what we do. We love to write, and we love it more than anything.
As soon as we confess our love though, we go right back to complaining.
When I write something and it isn’t terrible:
"Writing isn’t even that hard."
Dear people of the world that constantly think they are fat,
Do you realize that there are people out there that are dangerously underweight, and their life is at risk because they can’t gain another pound? And they aren’t skinny because they choose to be; they are skinny because they don’t have a choice. Sometimes, they are ill, and they can’t do anything about it.
Meanwhile, here you are, starving yourself, and you weigh 80 pounds. You weigh that little because you think you need to be; you chose to be this skinny. You are in full control. You think you look better like this.
I just tried to type “people’s personalities,” but it came out: