CHANGE

I have always believed in the idea of "Paying it Forward". Some one helps you, you help someone else, that someone else continues the chain...

When I was in high school, my close friend and I tried to come up with random ways we could help others anonymously. Later on, I attended a program called Governor's Honors Program. One of the smaller classes I participated in tried to adopt and spread the Pay it Forward idea.

I have never been as inspired as I was, though, when listening to my brother tell the following story (in the story, my brother will be named Craig and his friend will be named Tim):

One cool night, after leaving a meeting down in the city, Craig and Tim were walking to their cars as they were getting ready to go out for the night. As they were doing so, they came across a man asking for change at a payphone. The man introduced himself as Lowe. Craig and Tim are both very sociable people, so they naturally started up a conversation with the man. Lowe seemed very distraught, so Tim cautiously asked if everything was okay. Tim thought that maybe what Lowe really needed was a little more of metaphorical change. Lowe eased into his problems one by one, and soon they were all spilling in front of Craig and Tim, a flood that one person couldn't clean up alone.

Lowe had recently been out of state. He was looking to buy a new house for him and his wife. After searching for awhile, he knew he had found the perfect home. He settled the deal, and immediately came back with a single rose in hand to surprise his wife with the news. Upon his arrival, though, he found his wife cheating on him through the front window. He had been kicked out, and his life was turned upside-down.

Craig and Tim were overwhelmed, and they knew this man needed help. They also knew there were skeptical people out in the world. Was this man really telling the truth? They decided that even if he hadn't been trustworthy, which they had already deemed him, then he still obviously needed a lift back on his feet.

The two boys ended up giving Lowe money for the next few days, and they drove him to find a hotel which he could stay in until he found a new place.

Inspiring.

I wish I could say that everybody were this kind-hearted. That is not the case, though. Had it been a different day, or even a difference of five minutes, it might not have been Craig and Tim who greeted Lowe with such encouragement. It could have been someone who was dangerous, or even someone who just didn't want to spend the time or money helping someone who needed it more.

I hope that everybody who reads this takes something from it. Every single person has the power to make some sort of a difference in the lives of others, whether the difference is large or even small. Anything counts.

And we can all help with a little change.

XoXo,

rubycherrie

SIMPLE NATURE

A poem I wrote December 2008:

the sun hits me,

exposing me of the

nothingness i am.

my bare limbs

are sticky in the light.

glistening diamonds fall

into my palms;

hands so undeserving 

of such a beauty.

i am nothing.

but still i feel the

strike of brightness

as a thousand blades

persecuting me;

showing to all

the simple nature

of my being.

icicles form at my fingertips,

slowly binding me

as a statue for all to see.

i breathe in the sweet scent

of pine and bark

for the last time.

i know it's over.

the light is dimming

into elegant shadows.

darkness takes over,

swallowing beams whole.

and still, i am nothing.

XoXo,

rubycherrie

CLICK

A poem I wrote:

rewind, back up, stop, control, go

never again with this all-time low

let's re-evaluate it

make it what we make it

we can go where we want

at the end of the road

why am i the only one who sees

how this mix-up had affected me

i'm on the ground, beggin' please

but i wanna freeze

take it back again

way before the end

rewind, back up, stop, control, go

never again with this horrible show

so we can keep on livin'

good life we've been given

and never have to worry which way to go

you gotta know

that you decide on your own road

you think it's impossible

but i know it's very plausible

so rewind, back up, stop, control go

XoXo,

rubycherrie

HELLO SWEET BLISS

Mahatma Gandhi once said, "Nobody can hurt me without my permission."

It's an interesting thought.  People would try as they might to get through this man.  They would spiritually beat him to the bone.  They knew the troubles he faced, and still they would fight.  Gandhi would live for days in physical hunger in order to stop fighting, but he was only pained with what he valued as significant wrongdoings to society.

Nobody can hurt me without my permission.

Nobody can hurt me without my permission.

Perception.  It is all about this one word.  The world could be coming to an end, and as long as one views it as a beautiful moment, a new beginning, a fantastic event, it cannot hurt.

The world could be coming to an end...

It's November 2012.  The Mayans, who were completely accurate with the lunar calendar (they even an extra day in the year ..leap year, anybody?..) and are only 35 seconds off from current time, believe that the world would come to an end in approximately one month.  They had no proof, no details.  Their calendar stops.  Are we supposed to believe the world will end?  Did they plan for their calendar to stop?  Hollywood sure does want us to believe this phenomenon.  It's 2009 and there is now a movie entitled "2012" (yes, very original) coming soon to theaters near you.

But even if we do believe this...why worry?  Why panic?  Where would that lead us?  Our last years on earth would be spent in chaos, with paranoid people turning their heads in every direction, simply waiting to vanish.  Why not look at this mysterious end through Gandhi's words?  Nobody can hurt me without my permission.  Sure the world may end!  But why not take it to mean we can have a hell of a good time these last few years?  It's a fantastic idea, thinking that our world as we know it, with the science we've discovered and the religion we've covered, could come to a halt.  Goodbye world, and hello sweet bliss.  Nobody can hurt us without our permission.  

Starting today, why not live your life through that idea?  What do you have to lose?

XoXo,

rubycherrie

SIMPLY SLEEP

I'm sitting in bed, white tee and all, soaking up the fact that as of a couple of hours ago, it's July 31st.  When did that happen?  I thought summer just began.  But now I hear its engine revving, ready to speed away into another semester of school and Athens.  I'm ready, but I'm not.  Isn't that the way it always is?  Doesn't everybody just sit and wait for the next stage of their lives to not happen?  Silly, if you think about it.  Almost ironic ... almost.

Anyways, it's 1:25am, and I'm supposed to be up for an eye appointment at 7:30 ... and sleep does not feel soon.  Why does that always happen?  When we need the sleep, it slips away into the night.  Insomnia could explain the world.

But that's not what insomnia's for.

I wonder if people with insomnia feel lucky.  They get to stay awake alone.  I wonder how many insomniacs actually take advantage of that.  I bet I would be a lot more productive if that were the case.  I would be writing all of the time, non-stop.  Except I wouldn't really be able to fully write songs, what with the noise level and all.  I'm rambling.

I just heard the garage open, which means my brother's home.  I'm rarely awake when that happens.

So, I'm thinking ... if sleep won't come to me, I may just have to force myself to sleep.  Wish me luck?

Sleep is a time;

it's a place and space

for dreams

Dream big

and magic happens

And during this time

our innermost thoughts emerge

from the twilight they hide in

Thoughts we didn't even

consider when awake

are now bubbling

to unknown surfaces

During sleep we explore

deep depths of fantastical

ideas

And sometimes,

when we wake up

and can't remember

what happened

during those odd, odd hours,

we realize that we

were just 

simply sleeping.

Goodnight!

No, nevermind.  Another poem, perhaps?

We arrive

and sunlight is still shining,

baking our shoulders and

slowly coloring our hair and

our bodies.

We wait for sounds

unlike those that surround us now.

We shift in our seats 

every so often,

blaming and cursing companies for 

choosing uncomfortable plastics.

Where is the band?

Where is the music?

Where are those sounds?

We wait.

And every so often

the people on stage

get yelled at.

Where is the band?

And finally,

we forget about the troubles.

The first act has arrived.

We trade seats.

Can you see okay?

Yes, can you? Yes.

We wait.

Plug in, check 1, 2, 3.

Testing, testing.

Hey, everybody!

Finally.

And the music moves

through air molecules

and strikes the people

in the pit so much

that their whole bodies 

dance.

And it hits us hard.

We're up, out of plastic

seats and our feet

are shifting and

our bodies swaying

to beats and heads

bobbing and then,

smiles emerge.

The light is fading,

but the music just won't

leave. We dance.

We can still feel it now.

The pulses.  The rhythm.

And we'll wait for it

to come again.

We'll wait.

Okay, now I know I need sleep.

Goodnight again (and for real this time)!

XoXo,

rubycherrie

trying out the new posting from my phone

NO EASY WAY

There really is no easy way to start talking about someone who died.  You can mention how great or lousy of a person they were, or just state the facts.  Either way, it doesn’t seem right.  All of a sudden, you’re talking in past tense.  He was her brother, he was a good guy.  There’s something missing in the sense of it all, and you don’t know where to place your finger.  You don’t know how to fix it.

I knew Josh when I was younger.  He was a few years older than me, and he would come to the pool every so often.  I didn’t really know him in the sense of even remotely close to friends, but we were associated.  It’s weird to find out that someone who you had passed or talked to maybe a few times is now gone.  But I think what’s really got me is the idea that he’s a part of my childhood memories, associated with happy times splashing around at a neighborhood pool.  I have one distinct memory of him standing by the side of the pool.  I always thought he had been really cute.  And now, he’s gone.  A horrible car accident after visiting his sister for her birthday.  He was thrown out of the windshield.

 It’s when things like this happen that people begin to question fate, and question if this person was supposed to have affected them somehow.  At this point, I’m still wondering how much I ever knew the kid.  Did he change something in me?  I barely knew him, so how could he have?  Questions pop up every which way and your head becomes fogged.  It all seems unfair and none of it makes any sense.  But it happened, and you feel as though you’re supposed to accept it.  It’s the only thing left to do, right?  But then, where does that leave us?  How am I supposed to be feeling?

Should I be glad that I never knew him better?  That seems selfish.  But you still think it, don’t you?  There are too many questions and too few answers.  So that leaves us to soak it all in.  Just breathe on it for a few days.  Life goes on, right? 

That’s the weirdest part of it all.  Something as terrible as death happens, and you become stuck in this vague world of confusion.  And while you’re left to mope around and wrack your brain for some solution to it all, the life around you continues.  It seems so cliché, but it is so true.  You’re sitting there thinking about something so huge as death, and everyone around you is talking about gossip and what happened on facebook today.  Life goes on.  It has to.