This is it.

You know no matter how many lasts we are experiencing in these final weeks of high school.
No matter the people we'll never see.
The teachers we'll never learn from.
The strangers we'll never judge.
I bet you anything the majority of us will wake up Saturday morning and go about our lives like nothing ever happened.

I mean we are only one day older than the last.
One hour more tired.
One minute less memorable.
One second closer to death.

Paris was great.
Neverland was a dream.
Home's heart gained some weight.

We walk these halls everyday, and yet all of us will hear one name, see one person walk, that we had no idea went to this school.

But no matter the cliques,
The hate,
The lies,
The egos,
The tears,
The scars.
The graduating class of 2016 will all breathe as one as we all stand and move our tassels like we have gained some sort of knighthood for turning our papers in on time.

I don't know about you, but for me it's so much more than that. Walking on that carpet and shaking hands with people you barely talked to. I'm doing that because I fucking made it.
I made it through every late paper.
Every teachers pair of eyes in the back of their heads.
Every suicide.
Every fight with parents or friends.
Every time where my heart was heavier than my textbooks.
And after that.
I woke up.
Got ready.
And went to school.
And I bet you I smiled at least once everyday I was in those halls.

My beginning at Lone Peak was bathroom stalls and knowing people by their shoes.
My rising action was facing a tidal wave while holding one hand.
My end is a confused head held high.

Now let's all move on and slowly forget.
Let's embrace our briefcases and hang our selves with our ties.
Let's wither away and become our parents.

But always remember that green is not a creative color.

Writers block is tearing at my skin.
Or maybe I'm blocking out my emotions of what's to come.

Didn't Have My Journal

I will never be here again. 

I was talking to my friend during lunch toast and he told me his biggest regret in his years it's that he didn't write every day since seventh grade. He's not a good writer. But he wants to remember. He wants to remember every tear. Every laugh. All of it. 

I feel like this whole leaving thing isn't gonna hit me until it's August and I realize Lone Peak is starting a new year and I'm not there.

And then I'm moving to Washington. Everyone I knew. Miles away. 

I don't know when it'll be the last time I see them.

I hope it causes you all pain that you won't ever be at high school again after this year. 

Even if you're gonna become a teacher.

Even if you're going to visit. 

Your heart should ache when you think about it never being the same, because that means you cared.

We will never be here again. 

We are so young. And I feel like we're all to caught up in where we're going to appreciate what we have now. 

Yes, it's a relief that's summer is coming. And the homework and tests are almost over. The stress will be gone. 

But we never have the time to truly say goodbye to the families we forged here. 

And those are more important than anything else.

Meh.

So many things I want.
But what do I need.
I'm debating if I'm actually trusting fate to help out,
Or if I'm just being lazy and taking what comes.
I don't want to be someone little.
Someone in a cycle to nowhere.
Which is funny because it always bugs me when people say they want to be remembered.
That not a bad thing to want of course,
But when people usually say that they mean they want to be the next Gandhi.
It's always best to be remembered by people close to you though.
If that's not enough for you that's kind of sad.
Because pain is only there to let you know it meant something.
I don't know about you,
But I only feel pain when people close to me die.
Maybe I'm just heartless.
But I'd rather truly affect a small amount of people,
Than be an icon to the world.
Though as a wise man once said,
Why not both?

101

I just realized that Real Right Now was my 100th post.

Holy shit...

I started this blog the beginning of my junior year. It's crazy to think how much has happened since then.

Back then I was still holding onto my sophomore year and my ex-boyfriend. (typical Kenzie)

I was just starting to gain confidence in myself, but I was still so intrigued with this new thing I had found called love.

Love is the most important thing to me. I told my sophomore friend my life story a month and a half ago or so and he said he admired the fact that the most important parts to me were my relationships. Then just this past week I was talking to my cousin on a midnight hike. I told him a little bit about my relationships and I realized while I was talking to him how important it all was to me. How I don't care about having a big house. I don't care about having the best job in the world - though I still want to follow my dreams - over all of my other dreams I want someone to wake up to every morning. And yes we'll probably try spooning while sleeping, then realize how uncomfortable it is and sleep on separate sides, but so what. I get someone who wants to spend the rest of their lives with me. What on this world is more beautiful than that?

I've had 12 relationships starting my seventh grade year. Each relationship has made me grow more than any friendship I've ever had. I don't know if that's strange. But I think it's kinda cool.

Anyways, totally sidetracked.

This is post 101.

101 posts of depression, complaining, and drama.

101 post and I'm driving in my friends passenger seat with my boyfriends grinning at the back of my head while we blast Coral Bones. (look them up. they're so good.)

101 posts and I'm happy.

101 posts and my friend group has done a 360 no scope and I'm surrounded by the people I never thought I'd be close to. But now I love them. I love them and I'm tired of the past. I'm tired of the drama, and I want to live.

A friend of mine got sent to St George by his parents. That sucked.

An old friend got bullied out of our family. If it counts for anything, I'm sorry.

I'm not sure what I'm writing anymore. I'm kinda just doing another right now.

28 days guys.

28 days and these halls will not be ours anymore.

28 days and then who knows if we'll be remembered.

Who will remember us?

Does it matter?

Should we care about being noteworthy to a bunch of high school students?

Should we pray paint our names on the walls in our blood to mark all the late night papers? All the books read on sparks notes?

Though honestly besides the paper cuts it was more emotional than physical. So maybe our names are painted on the walls. Emotionally...cuz that makes sense... #poetrygonewrong

I don't know. Let's just all be sentimental for a day. Maybe we should do it for a class period. We can make poetic metaphors and all that fun shit. I have no idea.

Just know that we have 28 days left and I don't know everyones name in our class. Sorry Nelson. I feel like everyone has been saying that a lot.

28 days.

Damn.

Real Right Now

A week or two ago we had a lesson in laurels that you can have heartbreak and be happy at the same time. I'm not religious, but I had honestly never realized that before. Suddenly all the confusion in my brain got a little clearer.

I have four friends left.

One is my boyfriend, which means I have no idea how long we'll be friends because we all know what happens after you break up. But it doesn't have to be that way. He keeps me sane.

Second. A guy I've considered liking for a while but honestly it's not a good idea. He's good just as a friend anyways. I hope to visit him whenever I'm in town. If he decides to go on a mission I hope to be there for his farewell also.

Third. He is the closest to saint I've ever seen and I can't wait to see where he's going on his mission. He will be the richest out of all of us one day and I refuse to believe anything less.

Fourth. She isn't around too much anymore, but I hope to move to Washington with her in July. Every now and then when I meet up with her I feel the relief of talking to someone who isn't stuck. We're all stuck.

(Silver, if you're reading this don't feel insulted. We've been growing apart for a while now and you know it. We've both changed and it's for the better. I still like talking to you.)

(Pink, you're probably not reading this because we haven't talked in forever, but all I can think to say to you is I'm sorry, and I don't hate you if that's what you think.)

Everyone is talking about college, but also how they don't want to graduate. I say let me out already, but I'm not even going to college next year. I just want to figure out who the fuck I am.

When I started this year I could not imagine graduating. Though slowly but surely it became quite a desire.

I used to say what's the point in a very negative way.

Now I say it because I want a challenge.

I want to stop being pointless.

My grandpa died last week, and I don't know why I didn't tell anyone.

My ex is reading Peter Pan with his new girlfriend.

Joseph is my last play here.

I haven't gone into work in a week in a half. I'm probably gonna get fired.

I'm failing all my classes except two.

My dogs look like Yin and Yang. They're cute.

I want to read more. I want to play the piano more. I want to go to school while I can. I want to love my dad. I want to buy more records. I want to do my fucking laundry. I want to not need to sleep. I want to move to Washington for a year. I want to talk to my sister while she's in Germany. I want to talk to my mom while I'm in Washington. I don't want to be one of those people still in their hometown a year after they've graduated. I don't want to be one of those people still in their hometown three years after they've graduated. I want a job. I don't want a job I hate. I don't want to go to stage crew after the play is over. I want money. I don't want to be greedy. I want to go to Disneyland by myself for my senior trip.

I'm sitting here watching my cousins play Smash Bros. on our Wii U. I want to play, but I love to write. I should probably be sleeping soon because I need to get up in the morning for attendance school, because I need a lot of sleep to actually get up in the morning.

My dad is packing to leave for work. Just like he always has since I was born. I need gas, but I don't have any money.

My ex visited two days ago and it felt like old times. It could never be old times.

My mind has been muddled, but I'm so ready to wake up.

I went to my middle school last week. It was small and everyone was really short. My best friend kept telling me about all his good times there. I did not have to good of a time there myself. Lots of lessons though. I'm grateful for it.

I've been writing what's on my mind for too long now.

Peace.

Chopped Peanuts

It all started with some chopped peanuts.
No.
No it didn't.
It started a long time ago.
Before I could ever possibly realize.
Then after one crush and three relationships...
Well,
Here we are.
And we are eagles.
We are flying,
Living,
Breathing.
I don't understand it all quite yet,
But I do know one thing.
I'm happy. 
So fuck it all.
Let's put our middle fingers up and own the whole damn sky.
Because we can,
But only for two months,
So let's try and make the best of it.

P.S. You make me feel like Margo Roth Spiegelman.