Gabe and the techies and my camp friends are probably the best things that have ever happened to me. They are why I am not as shitty as I could be.
So with Gabe and half my friends going to college, and my camp friends obviously not being with me, I’m scared. But here’s what I’m realizing now:
It would be an insult to them to crumble. If I was destroyed by them leaving, it proves that they did nothing for me. But that’s so inaccurate. They have done the world for me. So even if they don’t know it, I’m going to make them proud.
Dreaming With A Broken Heart John Mayer / When I Was Your Man (Cover) Sam Tsui / Vanilla Twilight Owl City / Transatlanticism Death Cab For Cutie / Overjoyed Bastille / Where Are You Now? The Summer Set / Total Eclipse of the Heart (Cover) Glee Cast / Remembering Sunday All Time Low / Miserable At Best Mayday Parade / Here’s Your Letter Blink-182 / Goodnight Moon Go Radio / Vegas Skies The Cab / Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) Death Cab For Cutie / Where Are You Now Mumford & Sons / To Build A Home The Cinematic Orchestra
Power Tools (Tech Crew; prompted poem 33/52) // n.f.
I am a carpenter. Look at me. You see this? 110 pounds of teenage girl with muscles that don’t match her stereotype and scars on her legs from when she walked into platforms or fell onto screws. I look like a walking contradiction, but I, I am a carpenter. I spend my days creating plans for the construction of sets and executing them with precision you couldn’t even imagine, yet I don’t even know how to keep my own skin intact. I get nervous when I am given a pencil sharpener. And I shiver if my fingernails are a bit too sharp. So how am I possibly trusted with power tools, let alone even a hammer?
This job does not come easily. You need a thick skin, and yes, I know the irony, but it comes in handy when freshmen think they’re gods and seniors have kissed dedication goodbye, but the hardest part of my job is striking the set in 3 days. I have finally learned to create instead of destroy, and watching a set come down can be devastating but I now know that that is not utter destruction. It is all still here. It is here in the memories and dozens of pizzas and splinters and tears and sweat and blood but this time it flows for a goddamn worthwhile reason.
I finally started picking up razors to cut foam core for a castle instead of the crevices of my ankle, and I no longer look at a jig saw and daydream about being the plywood that’s getting destroyed. Being a carpenter has saved me. It took me half a year before I finally trusted myself with a drill but it is still taking me a lifetime to learn how to trust this fragile heart of mine. I think I can use a staple gun to keep it shut; that’s worked well for me so far, and when it doesn’t, there are gallons of glue and band-aids and screws just mere feet away in our tool room.
Look at me again. This dot is from June of 2013 and this scratch is from this past April and I remember every injury every project every person that has shaped who I have become: I am 110 pounds of teenage girl and being at tech helps me forget that sometimes I want that to be 95 and i want to be more bone than muscle and I want it all to be covered with self-inflictions but I am a carpenter, and we do not destroy. We create.