dear most perfect person in the world

On November 25, 2016
a story by [zareya]

Dear diary, it’s me again, Veronica. Today this total fat loser spilled her gross soda — like, get a Diet, fatty — and Oreo crumbs all over my new designer dress. I think her name was Zareea, Zere, Zreya, Zucchini? Whatever. But there will be a new dress. Hopefully that pig won’t slob over it again. Hahaha, like, lol, I just remembered something. This naaasty boy tried askin gme out today. It was like totes discuss, like, can’t even, but it’s funny how he thought he had any chance with this. He’s nothing like my totes gorge boyfriend. He’s like, bae. Like hashtag relationship goals. We’re like perfect, especially together. We’re like PB and J. Snapchat and filters. Kim Kardashian and butt. You know, I mean, everybody has to be jelly. I have everything, the looks, cute bae, popularity, a family that actually loves me (Mom: “Hey sweetie, dinner’s done!”) Oh My Gosh, shut up you fat deserted beached whale and get out. That’s probably why dad left you. So anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, did I mention I’m stupidly gross rich? Well, that’s it diary, or like, whatever, I’m going to see bae. Like, bye.

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invincible child

On November 25, 2016
a reflection by [essence]

If you are wondering how I got the name Invincible Child, well, it all started when I was one years-old. My mom and dad were teaching me how to walk. They told me to walk to the door and back. So they let me go and I did the most unexpected thing ever. As soon as my dad let me go, I took off and ran out of their room and into the mirror, face first! My parents ran to me as soon as they heard a loud thump and saw me lying on the ground with my eyes closed. They panicked, then I opened my eyes and started laughing while yelling, “Again! Again!” over and over. They just stared at me for a few seconds then started to laugh with me.

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hands up, don’t shoot

On November 25, 2016
a poem by [victoria]

When following commands get you killed:
Hands up, don’t shoot.
When mothers plead for justice:
Hands up, don’t shoot.
When the hurt hits hard and turns to violence
Hands up, don’t shoot

How they tell us racism is dead and shut up.
Stop being entitled crybabies.
Egos be crushed. Hearts are broken. Ignorance increased.
Times are tough when you choose bleach over Trump and Killary.
Colin sit down to protect something going on, and all hell breaks loose.
Hands up, don’t shoot.

Black on black crime gets brought up.
If I have a hole in my roof, and it’s raining I call
the landlord, and he says my lights aren’t on.
Both are problems. But only one will be fixed.
The hole in the roof is the problem.
Hands up, don’t shoot.

We know it’s not all policeman and women
but it’s the ones who aren’t speaking up
and speaking out against the bad ones.
Hands up, don’t shoot.

We the people right? Your life matters,
your voice matters. Your choices matter.
Be brave, be strong and don’t be a bystander to injustices.
Hands up, don’t shoot.

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a dog’s life

On November 25, 2016
a story by [aaron]

Yes! They left. Now I can relax on the couch without them telling me to get down. I think I’m starting to get a little hungry. Oh wait a minute! I can just eat the leftover spaghetti that they threw away.

[20 seconds later]

That was good, especially the cheese. Well, time for me to use the bathroom.

[20 more seconds later]

Now much better. I’m going to sit on the couch and watch my favorite wolf documentary that comes on every day. I think my owners will be upset that I pooped and peed on the ground. Well, I think they will get over it. This couch is really comfortable. I think I’ma take a nap.

[6 hours later]

Dang! I slept through half of my day. Now I can’t do what I wanted to do. Here one of them come right now. I can’t wait to spend the day with him.

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dear you

On November 25, 2016
a poem by [victoria]

Part One

You pick at healed emotional scars.
You make fun of the bullied.
You throw away friends like common trash for kicks.
You put on clothes that barely fit. Just because
You can. I actually thought
You was cool because you gave
No f***s. Sneaking around
To make a few bucks.
Kicked out the house then pregnant—
Both fatherless. How did you make it? Adoption
You went. 18 years later…
Wow, we’re here.

Part Two

How can I help you when I’m helpless too?
Can’t be your backbone, I hope
We’re still cool.
Well I was young so I acted like
A fool. You acting shocked
like this stuff is brand new.
I gave you clothes
And kept you fed.
I’ve even gave you my last dollar
And made up your bed.
Hate that I didn’t see you
Grow into a man. I remember
You made weird noises into the fan.
I’m sorry, now I’m here.

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dear stranger

On November 25, 2016
a letter by [tre’yonna]

Dear Stranger,

You are very unknown because I don’t know you … We can be friends but come in a goofy way, or nice, because I don’t know you at all …

Just to let you know about me, I’m very nice to new people but sometimes mean, I’m a goofy pretty person … I like to do things that’s fun in love my enemy…

Let me know about you … well I’m going to tell you, I’m 13, I’m the only girl … I have 4 brothers in I’m from Chicago, my birthday January 27, 2003 ..

And my OBF is funny mean in goofy in I love him, so if you mess with him I’m joining in : ) …

I go to school at Broad Ripple in I like to dance, have fun in make people laugh, but I also like getting the last word … but if you ask me overall I’m a nice sweet in funny person …

THIS IS ME … MY NAME IS … TRE’YONNA

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to future robots

On November 25, 2016
a letter by [cheyanne]

Dear Future Technology,

Please don’t kill my family. I will love them very much. I hope my future robot cat don’t destroy my home when I’m gone. Don’t let the robot family Mrs. and Mr. KimParlys in my house, I heard they like to kill other families. I hear screaming at night. You shouldn’t kill my family when you get all rusted up. Who will help you? Yeah, other robots could, but not as best as my family could. You should spare my family. We could take over the world together. I know some things you might not. We can do things that are out of this world. So think about it before you decide.

Sincerely,

Cheyanne

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to my brother

On November 25, 2016
a poem by [mekké]

Words are hard to describe feelings, I have always been better with images. Yet writing down how much I miss you seems to give me more tranquility. Writing to let go, to give this all a place. It will never heal, it will never go away, but just learning to give it time and space. I can tell you how much I care, how much I would give to have you back in my life, but you know all of this and it won’t change anything, that’s what I am learning with time. Writing to tell you how much I have learned, to show you that through fragility I become a stronger person. More able to understand, more able to listen and to care. Hurt through loss, I’ve become a wiser person.

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heart

On November 25, 2016
a poem by [deja]

I will die for my Heart.
I will cry for my Heart.
My Heart is the most important thing to me.
It feels like a gun just shot through

My Heart and had no shame or feeling.
And, I’m just standing there thinking Why?
All you can see is a hole.

All you can feel is pain.
All you can see is blank.
All you can feel is blood.

Your sister is worried,
And your mother is scared.

My sister and mother didn’t have
A brother or son
Anymore, and that is the Heart.

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happiness

On November 25, 2016
a reflection by [mitchell]

I’m finally happy. One of the best days of my 6,049 days of my life. “But why?” is the question. I’m not too sure the answer of that question. But I believe I’ve found my inner peace.

My true happiness is my true inner peace. My life should be all positive. But I always found a way to make a positive a negative.

But now I should make a negative into a positive. This isn’t the story of my life but it makes me who I am. Because I’m happy.

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