Background Image

...

I Just Thought Of A Great Theory That Explains Everything. When I Went To That Party, I Was Abducted By Aliens. They Have Created A Fake Earth And Fake High School To Study Me And My Reactions. This Certainly Explains Cafeteria Food.

-Laurie Halse Anderson

...

Please Wait....
Translating....

I Just Thought Of

Laurie Halse Anderson

...

I Just Thought Of A Great Theory That Explains Everything. When I Went To That Party, I Was Abducted By Aliens. They Have Created A Fake Earth And Fake High School To Study Me And My Reactions. This Certainly Explains Cafeteria Food.

Views: 56601

Topic

More From Laurie Halse Anderson

Do They Choose To Be So Dense? Were They Born That Way? I Have No Friends. I Have Nothing. I Say Nothing. I Am Nothing.

We've Fallen Down On Our Responsibility To Our Children By Somehow Creating This World Where They're Surrounded By Images Of Sexuality; And Yet, We As Adults Struggle To Talk To Kids Honestly About Sex, The Rules Of Dignity And Consent.

I Just Thought Of A Great Theory That Explains Everything. When I Went To That Party, I Was Abducted By Aliens. They Have Created A Fake Earth And Fake High School To Study Me And My Reactions. This Certainly Explains Cafeteria Food.

I Knit The Afternoon Away. I Knit Reasons For Elijah To Come Back. I Knit Apologies For Emma. I Knit Angry Knots And Slipped Stitches For Every Mistake I Ever Made, And I Knit Wet, Swollen Stitches That Look Awful. I Knit The Sun Down.

And Then A New Screen, One I Had Never Seen Before, Never Even Heard Of Popped Up. It Gave Me A Choice. I Could Become The New Lord Of Darkness Myself, Or I Could Take A Gamble And Be Reincarnated. I Chose Wisely.

Revision Means Throwing Out The Boring Crap And Making What’s Left Sound Natural.

We Tilt Our Heads Back And Open Wide. The Snow Drifts Into Our Zombie Mouths Crawling With Grease And Curses And Tobacco Flakes And Cavities And Boyfriend/girlfriend Juice, The Stain Of Lies. For One Moment We Are Not Failed Tests And Broken Condoms And Cheating On Essays; We Are Crayons And Lunch Boxes And Swinging So High Our Sneakers Punch Holes In The Clouds. For One Breath Everything Feels Better. Then It Melts. The Bus Drivers Rev Their Engines And The Ice Cloud Shatters. Everyone Shuffles Forward. They Don't Know What Just Happened. They Can't Remember.

I Wish America Would Stop Judging And Criticizing Teens And Instead, Try To Understand The Battles They Have To Fight Every Day.

I Handed My Tools. The Two Of Them Reached Down To Help Me Out Of The Crater I'd Dug. ''isn't That A Little Deep?'' Yoda Asked. ''it'll Help The Roots Get Established,'' I Explained. ''established Where? China?

I Make It Through The First Two Weeks Of School Without A Nuclear Meltdown.

It Is Easier Not To Say Anything. Shut Your Trap, Button Your Lip, Can It. All That Crap You Hear On Tv About Communication And Expressing Feelings Is A Lie. Nobody Really Wants To Hear What You Have To Say.

I Wish I Had Cancer. I Will Burn In Hell For That, But It's True.

It's Easier To Floss With Barbed Wire Than Admit You Like Someone In Middle School.

I Have Never Heard A More Eloquent Silence.

If I Ever Form A Clan, We'll Be The Anti-cheerleaders And Walk Under The Bleacher Forming Mild Acts Of Mayhem.

You Have To Know What You Stand For, Not Just What You Stand Against.

Can't Escape Pain, Kiddo. Battle Through It And You Get Stronger.

Why Are You Being So Mean?" "friends Tell Friends The Truth." "yeah, But Not To Hurt, To Help.

I Pull My Lower Lip All The Way In Between My Teeth. If I Try Hard Enough, Maybe I Can Gobble My Whole Self This Way.... I Didn't Try Hard Enough To Swallow Myself.

I Like Cheeseburgers Too Much To Be A Model.

I Was Good At Digging Holes. It Was The Rest Of Life I Sucked At.

I Want To Go To Sleep And Not Wake Up, But I Don’t Want To Die.

I Knew It!" He Pumps A Fist Into The Air. "you've Fallen In Love With Me. You Want To Have My Babies. We'll Get A Team Of Horses And A Covered Wagon And We'll Journey To South America And Raise Goats.

I Stuff My Mouth With Old Fabric And Scream Until There Are No Sounds Left Under My Skin.

Who Wants To Recover? It Took Me Years To Get That Tiny. I Wasn't Sick; I Was Strong.

You Hurt Her By Starving Yourself, You Hurt Her With Your Lies, And By Fighting Everybody Who Tries To Help You. Emma Can Only Sleep A Couple Of Hours A Night Now. She's Haunted By Nightmares Of Monsters That Eat Our Whole Family. They Eat Us Slowly, She Says, So We Can Feel Their Sharp Teeth.

The One Good Thing About Being Kind Of Shy Is That Nobody Bugs You When You Want To Be Left Alone.

This Is Wonderful, Wonderful! Be The Bird. You Are The Bird. Sacrifice Yourself To Abandoned Family Values.

I Need To Finish This Scarf/shawl/blanket Thing So I Can Start Something For Emma- A Hat, Maybe, Or A Sweater For Her Stuffed Elephant.

You’re Not Dead, But You’re Not Alive, Either. You’re A Wintergirl.

Gossip Is The Foul Smell From The Devil's Backside.

I Watch The Eruptions. Mount Dad, Long Dormant, Now Considered Armed And Dangerous. Mount Saint Mom, Oozing Lava, Spitting Flame. Warn The Villagers To Run Into The Sea.

I Picked Up One Of The Books And Flipped Through It. Don't Get Me Wrong, I Like Reading. But Some Books Should Come With Warning Labels: Caution: Contains Characters And Plots Guaranteed To Induce Sleepiness. Do Not Attempt To Operate Heavy Machinery After Ingesting More Than One Chapter. Has Been Known To Cause Blindness, Seizures And A Terminal Loathing Of Literature. Should Only Be Taken Under The Supervision Of A Highly Trained English Teacher. Preferably One Who Grades On The Curve.

The Best Time To Talk To Ghosts Is Just Before The Sun Comes Up.

When Life Sucks, Read. They Can't Yell At You For That. And If They Do, Then You Can Ignore Them.

Emma Hears Me Come Up The Stairs And Asks Me To Watch A Movie With Her. I Stick Band-aids On My Weeping Cuts, Put On Pink Pajamas So We Match, And Snuggle With Her Under Her Rainbow Comforter. She Arranges All Of Her Stuffed Animals Around Us In A Circle, Everyone Facing The Tv, Then Presses Play...ghosts Dare Not Enter Here.

None Of [the Books Are] Worth Reading. There Are No Fairy Tales, No Faerie Tails, No Sword-swinging Princesses Or Lightning-throwing Gods.

Having To Parent Your Mother Or Father Is A Challenge That Way Too Many Teens Have To Deal With. Teens Whose Parents Are Dealing With Substance Abuse, Financial Hardship, Job Loss, Mental Illness And Divorce Deserve Our Love, Support, And Compassion. I Wish America Would Stop Judging And Criticizing Teens And Instead, Try To Understand The Battles They Have To Fight Every Day.

I Am Angry That I Starved My Brain And That I Sat Shivering In My Bed At Night Instead Of Dancing Or Reading Poetry Or Eating Ice Cream Or Kissing A Boy.

I Am Super Proud Of Being An American, But We Fail Our Veterans Every Day.

The One Good Thing About Being Kind Of Shy Is That Nobody Bugs You When You Want To Be Left Alone.

There Is Something About Christmas That Requires A Rug Rat. Little Kids Make Christmas Fun. I Wonder If Could Rent One For The Holidays. When I Was Tiny We Would By A Real Tree And Stay Up Late Drinking Hot Chocolate And Finding Just The Right Place For The Special Decorations. It Seems Like My Parents Gave Up The Magic When I Figured Out The Santa Lie. Maybe I Shouldn't Have Told Them I Knew Where The Presents Really Came From. It Broke Their Hearts.

Life Is For The Living. Don't Let The Fear Of Striking Out Let You From Keep You From Playing The Game.

Mr. Freeman: You Are Getting Better At This, But It's Not Good Enough. This Looks Like A Tree,but It Is An Average, Ordinary, Everyday, Boring Tree. Breathe Life Into It. Make It Bend - Trees Are Flexible, So They Don't Snap. Scar It, Give It A Twisted Branch - Perfect Trees Don't Exist. Nothing Is Perfect. Flaws Are Interesting. Be The Tree.

What Do I Want? The Answer To That Question Does Not Exist.

Nicole Can Do Anything That Involves A Ball And Whistle.

Bologna Girl, That's Me.

He Doesn't See My Breasts Or My Waist Or My Hips. He Only Sees The Nightmare.

Eating Disorder

She Offered Herself To The Big, Bad Wolf And Didn't Scream When He Took The First Bite.

It Doesn't Hurt. Nothing Hurts Except The Small Smiles And Blushes That Flash Across The Room Like Tiny Sparrows.

In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves.

I Wish I Had Cancer. I Will Burn In Hell For That, But It's True.

I Don’t Know What I’m Doing In The Next Five Minutes And She Has The Next Ten Years Figured Out. I’ll Worry About Making It Out Of Ninth Grade Alive. Then I’ll Think About A Career Path.

I Just Thought Of A Great Theory That Explains Everything. When I Went To That Party, I Was Abducted By Aliens. They Have Created A Fake Earth And Fake High School To Study Me And My Reactions. This Certainly Explains Cafeteria Food.

I Wish America Would Stop Judging And Criticizing Teens And Instead, Try To Understand The Battles They Have To Fight Every Day.

I See It In The Hallway. It Goes To Merryweather. It Is Walking With Aubrey Cheerleader. It Is My Nightmare And I Can't Wake Up.it Sees Me. It Smiles And Winks. Good Thing My Lips Are Stitched Together Or I'd Throw Up.

I Failed Eating, Failed Drinking, Failed Not Cutting Myself Into Shreds. Failed Friendship. Failed Sisterhood And Daughterhood. Failed Mirrors And Scales And Phone Calls. Good Thing I'm Stable.

Picasso.” He Whispers Like A Priest. “picasso. Who Saw The Truth. Who Painted The Truth, Molded It, Ripped From The Earth With Two Angry Hands.

I Watch Some Kids Ask The Cafeteria Ladies To Sign Their Books. What Do They Write: "hope Your Chicken Patties Never Bleed?" Or, Maybe, "may Your Jell-o Always Wiggle?

You Can Tell A Book Is Real When Your Heart Beats Faster. Real Books Make You Sweat. Cry, If No One Is Looking. Real Books Help You Make Sense Of Your Crazy Life. Real Books Tell It True, Don't Hold Back And Make You Stronger. But Most Of All, Real Books Give You Hope. Because It's Not Always Going To Be Like This And Books-the Good Ones, The Ones-show You How To Make It Better. Now.

Gossip Is The Foul Smell From The Devil's Backside.

I Believe That You've Created A Metaphorical Universe In Which You Can Express Your Darkest Fears. In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves, And Sometimes We Do Such A Good Job, We Lose Track Of Reality.

She Cannot Chain My Soul. Yes, She Could Hurt Me. She'd Already Done So...i Would Bleed, Or Not. Scar, Or Not. Live, Or Not. But She Could Not Hurt My Soul, Not Unless I Gave It To Her.

We're Good At Taking Care Of Little Kids, And Spend A Lot Of Energy Teaching Them Things Like How To Read. But When Kids Get As Tall As Their Parents And Can Look Them In The Eyes, We Tend To Drop The Ball - At A Time They Most Need A Loving Consistent Community Of Adults, Be It Parents, Aunts, Uncles, Or Others.

Conjugate This: I Cut Class, You Cut Class, He, She, It Cuts Class. We Cut Class, They Cut Class. We All Cut Class. I Cannot Say This In Spanish Because I Did Not Go To Spanish Today. Gracias A Dios. Hasta Luego.

He Says A Million Things Without Saying A Word. I Have Never Heard A More Eloquent Silence.

The Constitution Does Not Recognize Different Classes Of Citizenship Based On Time Spent Living In The Country. I Am A Citizen, With The Same Rights As Your Son, Or You. As A Citizen, And As A Student, I Am Protesting The Tone Of This Lesson As Racist, Intolerant, And Xenophobic.

Who Wants To Recover? It Took Me Years To Get That Tiny. I Wasn't Sick; I Was Strong.

When People Don't Express Themselves, They Die One Piece At A Time.

We Tilt Our Heads Back And Open Wide. The Snow Drifts Into Our Zombie Mouths Crawling With Grease And Curses And Tobacco Flakes And Cavities And Boyfriend/girlfriend Juice, The Stain Of Lies. For One Moment We Are Not Failed Tests And Broken Condoms And Cheating On Essays; We Are Crayons And Lunch Boxes And Swinging So High Our Sneakers Punch Holes In The Clouds. For One Breath Everything Feels Better. Then It Melts. The Bus Drivers Rev Their Engines And The Ice Cloud Shatters. Everyone Shuffles Forward. They Don't Know What Just Happened. They Can't Remember.

This Is Not Our Fight', The Old Man Said. 'british Or American, That Is Not The Choice. You Must Choose Your Own Side, Find Your Road Through The Valley Of Darkness That Will Lead You To The River Jordan. . . Look Hard For Your River Jordan, My Child. You'll Find It.

Nothing Is Perfect. Flaws Are Interesting. Be The Tree.

They Mean Hot Like 'i'm Too Good For You I Got My Own Money Don't Be Frontin' Me.' You're More Like 'be My Boyfriend I'll Make You Cookies Come Meet My Dad ' Know What I Mean

I Am So Sorry. I Wish You Knew Even One Tenth Of One Percent Of How Sorry I Am. ...it Was My Fault. Can I Kill Myself Here, Or Should I Do It Outside, So The Mess On Your Carpet Doesn't Upset Your Mother?

I Would Never Be Popular. I Didn't Want To Be; I Liked Being Shy. I'd Never Be The Smartest Or The Hottest Or The Happiest. By Eighth Grade You Start To Figure Out Your Limits.

And Then A New Screen, One I Had Never Seen Before, Never Even Heard Of Popped Up. It Gave Me A Choice. I Could Become The New Lord Of Darkness Myself, Or I Could Take A Gamble And Be Reincarnated. I Chose Wisely.

We're Good At Taking Care Of Little Kids, And Spend A Lot Of Energy Teaching Them Things Like How To Read. But When Kids Get As Tall As Their Parents And Can Look Them In The Eyes, We Tend To Drop The Ball - At A Time They Most Need A Loving Consistent Community Of Adults, Be It Parents, Aunts, Uncles, Or Others.

For One Moment We Are Not Failed Tests And Broken Condoms And Cheating On Essays; We Are Crayons And Lunch Boxes And Swinging So High Our Sneakers Punch Holes In The Clouds.

If I Had Lady-spider Legs, I Would Weave A Sky Where The Stars Lined Up. Matresses Would Be Tied Down Tight To Their Trucks, Bodies Would Never Crash Through Windshields. The Moon Would Rise Above The Wine-dark Sea And Give Babies Only To Maidens And Musicians Who Had Prayed Long And Hard. Lost Girls Wouldn't Need Compasses Or Maps. They Would Find Gingerbread Paths To Lead Them Out Of The Forest And Home Again. They Would Never Sleep In Silver Boxes With White Velvet Sheets, Not Until They Were Wrinkled-paper Grandmas And Ready For The Trip.

Emma Is A Mattress Who Got Thrown Off The Truck When Her Parents Split Up. It's Not Like You Can Blame A Mattress When People Don't Tie It Down Tight Enough.

I Knew How Much It Hurt To Be The Daughter Of People Who Can't See You, Not Even If You Are Standing In Front Of Them Stomping Your Feet.

Rumors Are Spread By Jealous People

The Trick To Surviving An Interrogation Is Patience. Don't Offer Up Anything. Don't Explain. Answer The Question And Only The Question That Is Asked So You Don't Accidentally Put Your Head In A Noose.

When People Don't Express Themselves, They Die One Piece At A Time. You'd Be Shocked At How Many Adults Are Really Dead Inside—walking Through Their Days With No Idea Who They Are, Just Waiting For A Heart Attack Or Cancer Or A Mack Truck To Come Along And Finish The Job. It's The Saddest Thing I Know.

The Light Beyond My Eyes Flashflashflashes With A Hundred Futures For Me. Doctor. Ship's Captain. Forest Ranger. Librarian. Beloved Of That Man Or That Women Or Those Children Or Those People Who Voted For Me Or Who Painted My Picture. Poet. Acrobat. Engineer. Friend. Guardian. Avenging Whirlwind. A Million Futures--not All Pretty, Not All Long, But All Of Them Mine. I Do Have A Choice" - P. 271

I Sit At A Table Close To His Desk. Ivy Is In This Class. She Sits By The Door. I Keep Staring At Her, Trying To Make Her Look At Me. That Happens In Movies - People Can Feel It When Oother People Stare At Them And They Just Have To Turn Around And Say Something. Either Ivy Has A Great Force Field, Or My Lazer Vision Isn't Very Strong.

So, She Tells Me, The Words Dribbling Out With The Cranberry Muffin Crumbs, Commas Dunked In Her Coffee.

I’m The Girl Who Trips On The Dance Floor And Can’t Find Her Way To The Exit. All Eyes On Me.

Used To Be That My Whole Body Was My Canvas-hot Cuts Licking My Ribs, Ladder Rungs Climbing My Arms, Thick Milkweed Stalks Shooting Up My Thighs.

Hannah Was About To Burst With Excitement, Which Would Have Been Disgusting Because She Would Have Sprayed Blood, Guts And Glitter In Every Direction.

A Scar Is A Sign Of Strength. . .the Sign Of A Survivor.

Why Are You Being So Mean?" "friends Tell Friends The Truth." "yeah, But Not To Hurt, To Help.

My Parents Didn't Raise Me To Be Religious. The Closest We Come To Worship Is The Trinity Of Visa, Mastercard, And American Express. I Think The Merryweather Cheerleaders Confuse Me Because I Missed Out On Sunday School. It Has To Be A Miracle. There Is No Other Explanation. How Else Could They Sleep With The Football Team On Saturday Night And Be Reincarnated As Virginal Goddesses On Monday?

This Girl Shivers And Crawls Under The Covers With All Her Clothes On And Falls Into An Overdue Library Book, A Faerie Story With Rats And Marrow And Burning Curses. The Sentences Build A Fence Around Her, A Times Roman 10-point Barricade, To Keep The Thorny Voices In Her Head From Getting Too Close.

I Needed To Hear The World But Didn't Want The World To Know I Was Listening.

There Is Something About Christmas That Requires A Rug Rat. Little Kids Make Christmas Fun. I Wonder If Could Rent One For The Holidays.

I Would Never Be Popular. I Didn't Want To Be; I Liked Being Shy. I'd Never Be The Smartest Or The Hottest Or The Happiest. By Eighth Grade You Start To Figure Out Your Limits.

Conjugate This: I Cut Class, You Cut Class, He, She, It Cuts Class. We Cut Class, They Cut Class. We All Cut Class. I Cannot Say This In Spanish Because I Did Not Go To Spanish Today. Gracias A Dios. Hasta Luego.

The Bathroom Door Swings Open. Emma Sees The Blood Painting My Skin And The Red Rivers Carved On My Body. Emma Sees The Wet Knife, Silver And Bone. The Screams Of My Little Sister Shatter Mirrors.

Bologna Girl, That's Me.

He Says A Million Things Without Saying A Word. I Have Never Heard A More Eloquent Silence.

We Have To Acknowledge That Adolescence Is That Time Of Transition Where We Begin To Introduce To Children That Life Isn't Pretty, That There Are Difficult Things, There Are Hard Situations, It's Not Fair. Bad Things Happen To Good People.

My Face Becomes A Picasso Sketch, My Body Slicing Into Pieces.

I Understood What Triggered Her Earthquakes, Most Of Them.

I Scared Myself, Because Once You've Thought Long And Hard Enough About Doing Something That Is Colossally Stupid, You Feel Like You've Actually Done It, And Then You're Never Quite Sure What Your Limits Are.

They Say They Have Noticed Me Drawing. I Almost Tell Them Right Then And There. They Noticed.

I Am Not Going To Think About It. It Was Ugly, But It’s Over, And I’m Not Going To Think About It.

Melancholy Held Me Hostage, And The Bees Built A Hive Of Sadness In My Soul.

I Look At My Homely Sketch. It Doesn't Need Anything. Even Through The River In My Eyes I Can See That. It Isn't Perfect And That Makes It Just Right.

It's A Shame We Can't Just Admit That We Failed Family Living, Sell The House, Split Up The Money, And Get On With Our Lives.

Gym Should Be Illegal. It's Humiliating.

I Stuff My Mouth With Old Fabric And Scream Until There Are No Sounds Left Under My Skin.

My Face Becomes A Picasso Sketch, My Body Slicing Into Pieces.

The Best Time To Talk To Ghosts Is Just Before The Sun Comes Up.

They Yell At Me Because I Can't See What They See. Nobody Can Explain To Me Why My Eyes Work Different Than Theirs.

Look At The Stupid, Poor People. Look At The Stupid, Poor, Burned-out People. Look At The Stupid, Poor, Burned-out People, Look At Their Dead Baby. It's Death Porn For The Masses.

There Is No Magic Cure, No Making It All Go Away Forever. There Are Only Small Steps Upward; An Easier Day, An Unexpected Laugh, A Mirror That Doesn't Matter Anymore.

Why Not Draw Naked Guys, Just To Be Fair? Naked Women Is Art, Naked Guys A No-no, I Bet. Probably Because Most Painters Are Men.

In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves.

Write About The Emotions You Fear The Most.

I'm The Only One Sitting Alone, Under The Glowing Neon Sign Which Reads, "complete And Total Loser, Not Quite Sane. Stay Away. Do Not Feed.

You Have To Know What You Stand For, Not Just What You Stand Against.

I Am Almost A Real Girl The Entire Drive Home. I Went To A Diner. I Drank Hot Chocolate And Ate French Fries. Talked To A Guy For A While. Laughed A Couple Of Times. A Little Like Ice-skating For The First Time, Wobbly, But I Did It.

No, I Am Never Setting Foot In This House Again It Scares Me And Makes Me Sad And I Wish You Could Be A Mom Whose Eyes Worked But I Don't Think You Can.

I Wish Adults Would Spend Less Energy Freaking Out About The Cutting Itself And Work Harder To Understand What Drives Kids To Self-harm.

A Little Kid Asks My Dad Why That Man Is Chopping Down The Tree. Dad: He's Not Chopping It Down. He's Saving It. Those Branches Were Long Dead From Disease. All Plants Are Like That. By Cutting Off The Damage You Make It Possible For The Tree To Grow Again. You Watch - By The End Of Summer, This Tree Will Be The Strongest On The Block.

I've Written In Every Imaginable Location; A Repurposed Closet, The Kitchen Table, The Bleachers While My Kids Had Basketball Practice, The Front Seat Of The Car When They Were At Soccer. In Airports. On Trains. In The Break Room When I Was Supposed To Be Wolfing Down Dinner. In The Back Of Classrooms When I Was Supposed To Be Paying Attention.

School Libraries Are The Foundations Of Our Culture – Not Luxuries.

To Keep Up Appearances, I Stomp My Room And Slam The Door.

It Is My First Morning Of High School. I Have Seven New Notebooks, A Skirt I Hate, And A Stomachache.

Write About The Emotions You Fear The Most.

It Had Been A Good Day, All Things Considered. I Had Managed Rather Well On My Own. I Opened Grandfather's Bible. This Is What It Would Be Like When I Had My Own Shop, Or When I Traveled Abroad. I Would Always Read Before Sleeping. One Day, I'd Be So Rich I Would Have A Library Full Of Novel To Choose From. But I Would Always End The Evening With A Bible Passage.

They Mean Hot Like 'i'm Too Good For You I Got My Own Money Don't Be Frontin' Me.' You're More Like 'be My Boyfriend I'll Make You Cookies Come Meet My Dad ' Know What I Mean

You’re Not Dead, But You’re Not Alive, Either. You’re A Wintergirl, Lia-lia, Caught In Between The Worlds. You’re A Ghost With A Beat- Ing Heart. Soon You’ll Cross The Border And Be With Me. I’m So Stoked. I Miss You Wicked.

I Have Never Heard A More Eloquent Silence.

She Turns To Us, Acts Surprised To See Us, Then Does The Bit With The Back Of The Hand To The Forehead. "you're Lost!" "you're Angry!" "you're In The Wrong School!" "you're In The Wrong Country!" "you're On The Wrong Planet!

Death Is Funny, When You Think About It. Everybody Does It, But Nobody Knows How, Exactly How.

I Want To Make A Memorial For Our Turkey. Never Has A Bird Been So Tortured To Provide Such A Lousy Dinner.

Nicole Can Do Anything That Involves A Ball And Whistle.

Principal Principal: Where's Your Late Pass, Mister? Errant Student: I'm On My Way To Get One Now. Pp: But You Can't Be In The Hall Without A Pass. Es: I Know, I'm So Upset. That's Why I Need To Hurry, So I Can Get A Pass. Principal Principal Pauses With A Look On His Face Like Daffy Duck's When Bugs Is Pulling A Fast One. Pp: Well, Hurry Up, Then, And Get That Pass.

I Live In The Borderlands. The Word Ghost Sounds Like Memory. The Word Therapy Means Exorcism. My Visions Echo And Multiplymultiply. I Don't Know How To Figure Out What They Mean. I Can't Tell Where They Start Or If They Will End. But I Know This. If They Shrink My Head Any More, Or Float Me Away On An Ocean Of Pills, I Will Never Return.

I Want To Make A Memorial For Our Turkey. Never Has A Bird Been So Tortured To Provide Such A Lousy Dinner.

I Stand In The Center Aisle Of The Auditorium, A Wounded Zebra In A National Geographic Special, Looking For Someone, Anyone To Sit Next To. A Predator Approaches: Gray Jock Buzz Cut, Whistle Around A Neck Thicker Than His Head. Probably A Social Studies Teacher, Hired To Coach A Blood Sport.

I Sit At A Table Close To His Desk. Ivy Is In This Class. She Sits By The Door. I Keep Staring At Her, Trying To Make Her Look At Me. That Happens In Movies - People Can Feel It When Oother People Stare At Them And They Just Have To Turn Around And Say Something. Either Ivy Has A Great Force Field, Or My Lazer Vision Isn't Very Strong.

Didn't Help To Ponder Things That Were Forever Gone. It Only Made A Body Restless And Fill Up With Bees, All Wanting To Sting Something.

It Happened. There Is No Avoiding It, No Forgetting. No Running Away, Or Flying, Or Burying, Or Hiding.

It Is Easier Not To Say Anything. Shut Your Trap, Button Your Lip, Can It. All That Crap You Hear On Tv About Communication And Expressing Feelings Is A Lie. Nobody Really Wants To Hear What You Have To Say.

This Is Not Our Fight', The Old Man Said. 'british Or American, That Is Not The Choice. You Must Choose Your Own Side, Find Your Road Through The Valley Of Darkness That Will Lead You To The River Jordan. . . Look Hard For Your River Jordan, My Child. You'll Find It.

Mr. Freeman Sighs. "no Imagination. What Are You Thirteen? Fourteen? You've Already Let Them Beat Your Creativity Out Of You!

I Am The Space Between My Thighs, Daylight Shining Through.

I Want To Be In Fifth Grade Again. Now, That Is A Deep Dark Secret, Almost As Big As The Other One. Fifth Grade Was Easy -- Old Enough To Play Outside Without Mom, Too Young To Go Off The Block. The Perfect Leash Length.

I Need A New Friend. I Need A Friend, Period. Not A True Friend, Nothing Close Or Share Clothes Or Sleepover Giggle Giggle Yak Yak. Just A Pseudo-friend, Disposable Friend. Friend As Accessory. Just So I Don't Feel Or Look So Stupid.

My Parents Didn't Raise Me To Be Religious. The Closest We Come To Worship Is The Trinity Of Visa, Mastercard, And American Express. I Think The Merryweather Cheerleaders Confuse Me Because I Missed Out On Sunday School. It Has To Be A Miracle. There Is No Other Explanation. How Else Could They Sleep With The Football Team On Saturday Night And Be Reincarnated As Virginal Goddesses On Monday?

If I Run Or Breathe Too Deep, The Cheap Stitches Holding Me Together Will Snap, And All The Stickiness Inside Will Pour Out And Burn Through The Concrete.

Censoring Books That Deal With Difficult, Adolescent Issues Does Not Protect Anybody. Quite The Opposite. It Leaves Kids In The Darkness And Makes Them Vulnerable. Censorship Is The Child Of Fear And The Father Of Ignorance. Our Children Cannot Afford To Have The Truth Of The World Withheld From Them

We Turned Us Into Wintergirls, And When She Tried To Leave, I Pulled Her Back Into The Snow Because I Was Afraid To Be Alone.

Picasso.” He Whispers Like A Priest. “picasso. Who Saw The Truth. Who Painted The Truth, Molded It, Ripped From The Earth With Two Angry Hands.

You’re Not Dead, But You’re Not Alive, Either. You’re A Wintergirl, Lia-lia, Caught In Between The Worlds. You’re A Ghost With A Beat- Ing Heart. Soon You’ll Cross The Border And Be With Me. I’m So Stoked. I Miss You Wicked.

Everybody Told Me To Be A Man. Nobody Told Me How.

There Is No Safer. There’s Not Even Safe, Never Has Been.

I Don’t Know What I’m Doing In The Next Five Minutes And She Has The Next Ten Years Figured Out. I’ll Worry About Making It Out Of Ninth Grade Alive. Then I’ll Think About A Career Path.

You’re Not Dead, But You’re Not Alive, Either. You’re A Wintergirl.

I Lift My Arm Out Of The Water. It's A Log. Put It Back Under And It Blows Up Even Bigger. People See The Log And Call It A Twig. They Yell At Me Because I Can't See What They See. Nobody Can Explain To Me Why My Eyes Work Different Than Theirs. Nobody Can Make It Stop.

I Am Beginning To Measure Myself In Strength, Not Pounds. Sometimes In Smiles.

Don't Expect To Make A Difference Unless You Speak Up For Yourself.

Making A Difference

A Scar Is A Sign Of Strength. . .the Sign Of A Survivor.

I Am So Sorry. I Wish You Knew Even One Tenth Of One Percent Of How Sorry I Am. ...it Was My Fault. Can I Kill Myself Here, Or Should I Do It Outside, So The Mess On Your Carpet Doesn't Upset Your Mother?

I Scared Myself, Because Once You've Thought Long And Hard Enough About Doing Something That Is Colossally Stupid, You Feel Like You've Actually Done It, And Then You're Never Quite Sure What Your Limits Are.

We've Fallen Down On Our Responsibility To Our Children By Somehow Creating This World Where They're Surrounded By Images Of Sexuality; And Yet, We As Adults Struggle To Talk To Kids Honestly About Sex, The Rules Of Dignity And Consent.

Used To Be That My Whole Body Was My Canvas-hot Cuts Licking My Ribs, Ladder Rungs Climbing My Arms, Thick Milkweed Stalks Shooting Up My Thighs.

For One Moment We Are Not Failed Tests And Broken Condoms And Cheating On Essays; We Are Crayons And Lunch Boxes And Swinging So High Our Sneakers Punch Holes In The Clouds.

Do I Want To Die From The Inside Out Or The Outside In?

Eating Disorder

Revision Means Throwing Out The Boring Crap And Making What’s Left Sound Natural.

The Only Number That Would Ever Be Enough Is 0. Zero Pounds, Zero Life, Size Zero, Double-zero, Zero Point. Zero In Tennis Is Love. I Finally Get It.

Who Cares What The Color Means? How Do You Know What He Meant To Say? I Mean, Did He Leave Another Book Called "symbolism In My Books?" If He Didn't, Then You Could Just Be Making All Of This Up. Does Anyone Really Think This Guy Sat Down And Stuck All Kinds Of Hidden Meanings Into His Story? It's Just A Story.... But I Think You Are Making All Of This Symbolism Stuff Up. I Don't Believe Any Of It.

Two Days Later, Two Days Before Christmas, I Am Judged Fat And Sane Enough To Be Kicked Out Of The Hospital. The Plan To Send Me Straight Back To New Seasons Won't Work. There Is No Room At The Inn For A Leather Lia-skin Plumped Full Of Messy Things. Not Yet. The Director Promises Dr. Marrigan He'll Have A Bed For Me Next Week. I'm Stable Enough To Go Home Until Then. They All Say I'm Stable.

I Need A New Friend. I Need A Friend, Period. Not A True Friend, Nothing Close Or Share Clothes Or Sleepover Giggle Giggle Yak Yak. Just A Pseudo-friend, Disposable Friend. Friend As Accessory. Just So I Don't Feel Or Look So Stupid.

Two Days Later, Two Days Before Christmas, I Am Judged Fat And Sane Enough To Be Kicked Out Of The Hospital. The Plan To Send Me Straight Back To New Seasons Won't Work. There Is No Room At The Inn For A Leather Lia-skin Plumped Full Of Messy Things. Not Yet. The Director Promises Dr. Marrigan He'll Have A Bed For Me Next Week. I'm Stable Enough To Go Home Until Then. They All Say I'm Stable.

Principal Principal: Where's Your Late Pass, Mister? Errant Student: I'm On My Way To Get One Now. Pp: But You Can't Be In The Hall Without A Pass. Es: I Know, I'm So Upset. That's Why I Need To Hurry, So I Can Get A Pass. Principal Principal Pauses With A Look On His Face Like Daffy Duck's When Bugs Is Pulling A Fast One. Pp: Well, Hurry Up, Then, And Get That Pass.

This Is Where You Can Find Your Soul If You Dare. Where You Can Touch That Part Of You That You've Never Dared Look At Before. Do Not Come Here And Ask Me To Show You How To Draw A Face. Ask Me To Help You Find The Wind.

A Breath Of Steam Trickles Out, Filled With The Sobs Of A Grown Woman Breaking Into Girl-sized Pieces.

Sometimes Being An Adult Means Doing The Right Thing, Even If It's Not What You Want.

Memory Cuts Both Ways; It Can Either Provide You With Tremendous Strength And A Foundation To Carry You Through Your Life, Or It Can Be A Demon That Just Ruins Your Present And Your Future Because You Can’t Let Go Of The Past.

So, She Tells Me, The Words Dribbling Out With The Cranberry Muffin Crumbs, Commas Dunked In Her Coffee.

I'm The Only One Sitting Alone, Under The Glowing Neon Sign Which Reads, "complete And Total Loser, Not Quite Sane. Stay Away. Do Not Feed.

I Am A Gluttonous, Gorging Failure. A Waste. My Body Isn’t Used To High-sugar Carbs Laced With Witchcraft. It Can Barely Cope With Soup And Crackers.

They Tied Me Back Together, But They Didn't Use Double Knots. My Insides Are Draining Out Of The Fault Lines In My Skin, I Can Feel It, But Every Time I Check The Bandages, They're Dry.

Hannah Was About To Burst With Excitement, Which Would Have Been Disgusting Because She Would Have Sprayed Blood, Guts And Glitter In Every Direction.

Because I Am Still A Little Girl Who Believes In Santa And The Tooth Fairy And You.

Sometimes I Think High School Is One Long Hazy Activity: If You Are Tough Enough To Survive This, They'll Let You Become An Adult. I Hope It's Worth It.

They're On Their Way To The Foreign-language Wing. That's No Surprise. The Foreign Kids Are Always Here, Like They Need To Breathe Air Scented With Their Native Language A Couple Times A Day Or They'll Choke To Death On Too Much American.

It Doesn't Hurt. Nothing Hurts Except The Small Smiles And Blushes That Flash Across The Room Like Tiny Sparrows.

Mr. Freeman Sighs. "no Imagination. What Are You Thirteen? Fourteen? You've Already Let Them Beat Your Creativity Out Of You!

Didn't Help To Ponder Things That Were Forever Gone. It Only Made A Body Restless And Fill Up With Bees, All Wanting To Sting Something.

Grandma Frowned And Yelled Something In Russian. She Could Have Been Saying, 'open Up, Your Best Friend Is Here.' On The Other Hand, It Could Have Been, 'america Is A Great Country Because Of Canned Ravioli.

Melancholy Held Me Hostage, And The Bees Built A Hive Of Sadness In My Soul.

There's No Point In Asking Why, Even Though Everybody Will. I Know Why. The Harder Question Is "why Not?" I Can't Believe She Ran Out Of Answers Before I Did.

Apologies Mean Nothing If You Don't Mean It.

I Want To Go To Sleep And Not Wake Up, But I Don’t Want To Die.

Memory Cuts Both Ways; It Can Either Provide You With Tremendous Strength And A Foundation To Carry You Through Your Life, Or It Can Be A Demon That Just Ruins Your Present And Your Future Because You Can’t Let Go Of The Past.

Trending Author

Mariska Hargitay

Robert Staughton Lynd

Category