To Whom It May Concern,

I like it when people tell me things that I already know. Like that I my hair cut, or that I am wearing a knee brace, or that I am blunt. I just love it, I don't know how I would go through the day if people didn't point out what is right in front of my face. I think that I would get lost had have severe mental break downs if I didn't have these people around to help guide me through my day. All would be lost if we didn't have people in our lives to help guide us through daily lives and help us to do the same things that we do every single day. We need these people to keep us from getting lost on our way to classes that we have everyday and assist us in preforming tasks that we have done on our own thousands of times in the past. So please stop abusing the dumb people, I need them to make fun of.

Thank You for Your Support,

Ashlie Mae

It's Too Bright In Here

It's too bright in here
can't you dim the lights
can't you turn them down just a little
I can't bear what they make me see
can't stand to see the horrors
can't stand to see the fears
I don't want to see the blood
as it stains my hands red
I don't want to see the tears
as they drip from others faces
I can't see my sins
layed out bare before the Lord
It's too bright in here
can't you dim the lights

Tests, Teachers, and Time Wasted

How is it fair that my grade, my feature education, my scholarship, the possibility of me getting the job I want depends entirely on your mood when you grade my paper? How is that a fair and impartial grading system?

I mean NEWS FLASH people my last name is MCCONKIE my paper will never be graded when the teacher is in a good mood, it is impossible. I am right in the middle of the alphabet, right at that point where they have graded almost a hundred essays already but just before the point where they stop for the night. In other words when they are in the worst mood possible. I cannot win in this system it is a total impossibility.

We hear teachers complain about the amount of time they spend grading and correcting our papers and tests almost on a daily basis. Well not to be rude or anything, but um YOU MAKE THE TESTS and ah IT IS YOUR CLASS! You wouldn't have to spend all that time reading and correcting things if you didn't assign them. I know it is a crazy idea but it is true, if you don't assign it then we will not do it. Heck sometimes even if you do assign it we still wont do it.

So please to save us all a lot of wasted time please just stop assigning meaningless essays and papers that you don't want to read. We don't want to write them any more than you want to grade them, and honestly most of what we write in those things are either lies or what you want to hear. We almost never really put our own thoughts out there, why would we? You don't want to hear us debate with the things you told us or make grand leaps in knowledge, you want to hear how smart you are and how much you know. So that's what we tell you, we memorize facts and spit them back at you almost word for word what you told us.

Save the wasted time, don't assign pointless papers.

Dear Self Helpers,

Look people just because that self help book, or twelve step program or whatever, helped you doesn't mean it will help ME! Stop using the crap that they throw at you in those things to anlyze what is wrong with me, I am not some case study, you can't just try out everything you learn on me. I know that I am sad or angry or both I don't need you to tell me that I am or why I feel that way. This is my life, let me live it, let me make my own mistakes. You can't live my life for me, no matter how much you may want to, so please stop trying to. If I want to take Thi-Chi for gym then I will, if I want to study four minutes before the exam then I will. Don't assume that you know what I need or want or see or hear or like or hate or think. I, AND ONLY I, AM ME, YOU ARE NOT ME! So please for my own sainity please stop trying to control me. Thanks!

Much Love,

Ashlie Mae

I'm Addicted

My head is aching 

I don't want to be here

He is so close but I can't reach him

He isn't mine

I don't think he knows how much that hurts

He doesn't even know how hard it is not to take his hand when he walks me to class

He doesn't know how much it hurts when he forgets to hug me

I don't know why I keep him so close

It just hurts me 

I hate having him close and not being able to talk to him

I can't stand not having him around

I don't know what to do about it anymore

I don't know how to tell him whats going on inside of me

I hate his phone

It gets more attention then I do

I am jealous of his phone

Is this really what my life has come to

This isn't healthy 

I need to stop

...

I can't live without him

It's official

I'm addicted

King Arthur

and slowly but surely they watched as everything was taken away from their beloved King. His knights, his trust in the world, his one true love. And thus came about the fall of Camelot and all were unable or unwilling to prevent the fall of the King who united an entire nation.

Ever feel like King Arthur when he finds out about Gewn and Lancelot?

That pretty much discribes my week.

Free Time

In college they have this policy where you get to make your own schedule, so you can plan your classes around work or family or whatever. This is a great thing if you are a full time college student, but I am not and it leaves me with something very very dangerous, free time. 

 

As an early college student I still have high school classes that I am required to take. This results in me planning half of my classes and my high school councilor planning the other half of it. Needless to say my councilor and I do not see eye to eye. She thinks I need time to study, I think I need two art credits in order to graduate. Guess who won that battle, that's right she did and now I nothing to do from 10:20 until 1:10 every other day and I still need two art credits. How does that seem like a good idea? 

 

Would you like to know what I do with my free time? I do this. I post on my blog and Facebook, I send emails and watch videos on You Tube. This is a great use of my free time, I guess, heck what do I know I am only a sixteen year old who is taking five college classes and doing Youth Court and Youth City Council and being an active member of my church's youth program. But please, tell me whats best for me, I just love it when others boss me around. 

 

P.S yes, I am having a less than happy week.

Public Speaking

Yes, I am in my public speaking class right now.
No, I am not paying attention to this speaker.
Yes, I should be working on my criminal justice paper.
No, I am not going to do that right now.
Yes, it was a bad idea to have this class in a computer lab.
No, I don't want you to move the class.
Yes, I do feel this is a waste of time.
No, I don't plan on dropping out.

What They Made Me

    Everybody knows the story behind Wolverine, you know the X-Man. They covered his bones in metal to make him nearly unbreakable. He didn’t like what they had done, but all in all it really didn’t do that much harm to him either. His life continued in much the same way it always had, so long as he never got taken to the hospital. I wish my story had such a happy ending.

    I was never really all that, um, normal. From birth my parents were pretty sure there was something different. I mean they named me Franswa who does that unless they know that you are going to end up a freak, I only wish they hadn’t been so afraid. I wore gloves everywhere, they told everybody that I had very delicate sink. That the slightest thing would give me a rash, they were lying. The truth is that with one touch from me, the smallest contact with my skin would cause your bones to begin to melt. They would liquefy and seep out of your pores. You could try and fight, but the same touch that would end your life would also ensure that you didn’t mind too much. Maybe that you even enjoyed it. I lived with this my whole life, from birth clear up until now, seventeen years later. When I was younger I used to dream of becoming like superman, you know like on “Smallville” that show about Clark Kent growing up as a farm boy. I used to think that I was like him, that one day I would be able to use this strange power of mine for good. I know better now, now I can never be anything more than what they made me. A monster.

    Despite all of that my life didn’t get really strange until about eight months ago, that’s when they began to show up. I am not really sure who they are, but they certainly know who I am and more importantly what I am. They first showed up at school and I really didn’t think much of it. They looked like any other state people here to see where the funds had been used and how much more they could take from the inner city kids. Typical yearly cut backs nothing for me to worry about, I didn’t take any art classes or music ones either, they could cut anything they wanted to and I wouldn’t care. But then they showed up at my house, the same men, I guess they thought I wouldn’t notice. They said they were inspectors for our landlord. That the apartment building had just been sold and new management wanted everything inspected. They never did inspect any of the other apartments.

    I was already suspicious, but everything came to a head when my parents sided with them. I don’t know what they told Mom and Pop, something about them being able to fix me or other such nonsense. But there they were one day when I came home from school, Mom had already packed my bags, and Pops helped them chain me to the car. Neither of them cried or even waved as they took me away. We drove for hours, I’m not really sure where we ended up I slept for most of the ride, but when we got there that’s when the real horror started. They began testing, on me, on my DNA, on my skin, even on my bones. I don’t know what they found out and I don’t think I want to know, the tests hurt enough. I really don’t want to know what it told them.

    After the tests came the injections, these hurt even worse. I don’t know what was in the injections, some sort of concoction they created to make whatever my power was stronger. Pretty soon my appetite dropped, I didn’t want to eat anything and what I did eat I threw back up. Then came the day they tried to spoon feed me, they tied me down and forced the food down. The man who was feeding me made the mistake of touching my face with his bare hand, I felt better instantly. That was the first man I ever killed. Whatever was in those shots had made this curse so strong that all it took was one touch, no more than a minute long, and all the bones in them moved to me. The bones didn’t just liquefy and seep out pores now, now they seeped into me. Now it’s the only thing that can keep me satisfied. 

    They didn’t lock me in that night and when I got out there was no one else in the compound. They had seen the monster they created and they wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I ran all night long that first night and most of the next day as well. I don’t know where I was trying to go, just away from that place, away from the awful place. Now I keep away from towns for fear that I might hurt someone. I sedate my hunger on animals, but they never really fill me up. I try not to hurt anyone, but the pull is getting stronger. Someday my control will falter and more people will die. The death count will rise, that poor worker, dear old Pop, loving Mother, all gone. Soon others will join them.

Mel's Dinner

    Jaspart Benwa was the man that every girl in the office wanted, every girl that is except for me. The man walked around as if he owned the world, as if all women should just lie down at his feet and let him have his way. The sad part is that all the women seem to agree with him, they just let him do whatever he wants and he is NEVER punished! I do not appreciate this; this makes me feel as if I am some sort of freak.

    But I don’t need to worry about any of this, I have a secret weapon. I am dating a man, a nice man, a man who cares about my feelings, a real man who can accept the fact that I am the strong independent type. His name is part4966, ok so I haven’t actually met him and we are dating online, but he really is that amazing. At least I have some sort of a relationship unlike Mr. Benwa, the man never tied to a woman for more than a night. In truth I have almost accepted dinner offers from Mr. Benwa just to see what all the fuss is about, but as always my logic won out over my emotions and I have yet to accept an offer. Mr. Benwa; however, has not taken the hint and continues to ask on a daily basis.

    “Good morning Katilyn. How are you this fine Monday morning?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

    Eyes darting, footsteps racing, I answer, “Fine, Mr. Benwa. And how are you?”

    “Good, but I would be better if you would call me Jaspart, Mrs. Nix,” he says blocking my path.

    Glaring holes in his pretty little head, huffing my breaths in and out, and grinding my teeth in anger I respond, “Jaspart it is then. Now would you kindly get out of my way Jaspart?” I shove my way past him and enter my office, leaving Jaspart, stammering and shocked, alone in the hallway.

    Head shaking in confusion, hand waving erratically, I take a deep breath to calm myself. After relaxing I nearly skip to my computer to logon to the dating site. Please let him be on, please let him be on, good he is!

    part4966: Hey! How are you? :)!
    lynix94: Better now. I had a run in with that guy again. :(

    part4966: The one from your office?
    lynix94: Yeah that’s the one. Oh how I wish he would just transfer or something.
part4966: Sorry:(! That’s no good. Well if it makes you feel any better I had to deal with this lady from my office today.
lynix94: The one who can’t take a hint?
part4966: Yeah that’s the one…..he he that is kind of funny :)

lynix94: What is?
part4966: That we both had early morning run ins with the people we like least in our offices.
lynix94: Ha ha yeah that is funny. :)

part4966: So how about we celebrate? Will you meet me for lunch?
lynix94: …….How is this something to celebrate?
part4966: I don’t know……… I just want to meet you. I want to put a face to the person I feel like I know so well.

Heart pounding and head fuzzy, I stop to think it over. I really want to meet this man, but what if he is just saying that for, well you know. Would I be able to handle it if that’s all he wanted? It has been I long time since that has happened to me, and I have to admit I want it too. But can I handle nothing more than that? Coming to a decision I type:

lynix94: Okay, let’s do it. Meet me at Mel’s Dinner on Fifth at 2.
part4966: Perfect I will see you there. I will sit in the blue booth.

With those parting words I log off and finally get to work. I have four hours to fill before I can leave. I won’t get much done during any of it, but will fill the time that’s for sure. 

At 1:30 I leave my office and head to the restroom to check one last time and make sure that I am presentable. I spend so much time studying my look and second guessing myself that I don’t leave the office until 2:15. Praying that he didn’t leave, or worse stand me up, I rush through traffic to Mel’s.

    I walk in and search for the blue booth. There it is where it has always been in the back corner of the diner. There is a man sitting at the booth, a tallish man, a handsome man, or at least the back of his head is. I walk slowly over to him and slid into the seat across from him without looking up.

Then slowly and carefully I look up into the eyes of the man that I have been dreaming of for the past four months.

“Benwa?!”
“Nix?!”