The End is Actually The Beginning in a Really Sad Disguise.

12:55 AM, May 30, 2010. The house is humming in air conditioning as few unlawfully-late cars make whizzing noises on the highway outside my window. I'm in my living room on a slightly pillow-deprived couch, next to Ben Dunn, snoring happily away on top of all the couch-deprived pillows. About one hour ago, I was saying goodbye to friends that I've never really had to say goodbye to before.

Graduation is an ending.
My preconceptions of this Ending were, to put it bluntly, impossibly optimistic. The Ending, I thought, would be that of no emotion. I would jump through the final hoop, the Senior Speech, sit through a fifteen-minute sermon (courtesy of Mr. Nuce), have a fake diploma put into my hand, and walk away. It would all be mechanical.

Graduation is a Sad ending.
Saying goodbye to the people that I love is a very fond blur in my memory. It all happened so very fast that I don't precisely remember all that was said when saying goodbye. But I do remember that these people were sincerely interested in my life and wanted to be a part of it. I was encouraged, but this encouragement and excitement for my new future outside of school was ousted by the overpowering emotion of Sadness. This was my home, my familiar place, the place and people that I've grown spiritually and emotionally atatched to. The mountains, the bumpy highways, Soriana, Besitos, Sabritas con Salsa Valentina, Down town, picking up the Seniors and taking them to Starbucks, studying Sunday night for Mexican History Tests, Enraging myself at some obscure happening that I will never remember. This is all familiar. This is home. This is what I've attatched myself spiritually and emotionally, even if I don't like it sometimes.
When one is ripped away from something he is fastly attatched to, It will sting a little.
I'm not bitter.

I'm ready to move on. But I am very far from being ready to leave.

Needless to say, the freedom for which I have waited twelve years for (hair over ears and everywhere) is disgustingly shortcoming of the pleasure I had so long expected.

This post has no coherent thought. It's simply what has been in my head this night.
I hope that if and whenever you come to a point in your life where you must move on to a different place and a different time zone and a different life, you can find comfort that you can find a home in the ones that you love.

This is not the end-- it's just the beginning, dressed up in a frowny face.

Senior Speech

A poem for Grad has been done before,
But I think it'd be fun if it's done just once more.
To all of the people for whom I am thankful,
I thank you inside of this slightly rhyming poem.

Mr. Nuce, Mr. Murray, Mrs. Baxter, Mr. Uskoski,
The only thing that rhymes with you is Tchaikovsky--
Which is really good music, but we digress.
And digression is something we must always suppress.

Speaking of Digression-- Mr. Nuce.
My respect for you has grown over the years
As much as my hair has grown over my ears.

Mr. Murray, Mrs. Baxter,
You guys taught me laughter
And to never stop questioning--
Never ever, never.

Mr. Uskoski,
The one thing you taught me
Is honesty in spirituality.

Kelsey and Haley and Mom and Dad
You guys are the best family this world's ever had.
Kelsey, thanks for your optimism.
You're the most encouraging person I know.
Haley, thanks for your long conversations,
Even though they've been all on the phone.

Mom and Dad,
I'm not gonna cry.
It's hard to say poetry with tears in your eyes.

Thanks for accepting me for who God made me to be.
Thank you both for loving me, even though I'm excessively juvenile.
Most of all, thanks for showing me Christ in your lifestyles.
I love you both more than anyone else,
And I hope maybe someday I can buy you both a three story mansion in the country,
Because you both deserve nothing less.

Most importantly,
I'd like to thank God for giving me life,
And all of these people and friends along with it.
Thank you all.
Goodnight.