Bananas attacked my hometown

When bananas attacked my home town
the first thing they stole was the old crown.
They fought off the cops, throwing mid sized rocks
t'till there was destruction all around.

With the old crown they made themselves rulers,
made laws that were "better" and newer.
No coats were permitted, unless they were fitted
and they jailed all the open mouth chewers.

The townspeople started to riot
and went on banana free diets.
This was a mistake- bananas did take
their numbers and then multiply it.

Those times were right awful, of course
what with the banana strike force.
This fruity militia would come out to getcha
when in new government we would endorse.

The future began to look brighter
when somebody pulled an all-nighter,
laying out traps- with pulleys and snaps
they'd catch even the greatest fruit fighter.

Today there are no more sad frowns
in the battle bananas did back down
They all ran away- we shouted HOORAY!
when bananas fled from my hometown.

Watching

I am afraid, lots of the time
Of what people think of me
or if something is out of place
they may misinterpret it.

If you are like me, you are afraid of this all the time
And you hate working in the computer lab, with those giant screens
when anyone could walk by and see what you're working on
and you hate that.
I really hate that.
because someone could see your imperfect work
and start thinking things about you

sometimes it gets to the point where I just scroll up and down for the whole period
pretending to be working
but not writing anything
because i'm too busy worrying about how there might be someone looking over my shoulder

here in my room, by myself, I work much easier
I can keep everything secret until the final product is ready to be unveiled.

But still.
I feel insecure about sharing it
because it still might not be perfect
or someone might not like it

And yet
If I showed no one anything
and kept everything inside
I'd be a stagnant, unproductive puddle of vague yet persistent fear

Copy and paste

Artists and authors and scientists and mathematicians,
eaters of breakfast cereals, watchers of rain, criers of tears and shedders of blood
I welcome you all to Copy And Paste, in which I spew onto the screen the recent goings-on of my mind. Despite the magnificent introduction to this post, it is no where near as fancy or profound as you may have expected. Nay, I reckon it'll be pretty odd. It's just bits and pieces from my Notes app.
But the oddness is is what you're here for, isn't it?
HERE WE GOOOO!

Shout out to the kids who kept nose-picking well into the 4th grade and developed that "if I cover my nose with one hand I can pick freely with the other" technique.
Shout out to the kids who have since discovered that doesn't really work.

Ellie's writing contest thingabob.

morning reflections

I dearly hope everyone has had the chance to sleep in on a Saturday. To wake up slowly and see the gray morning light coming through their window, to hear the hum of the still sleeping house and the world outside, to appreciate the pillow cold against their cheek.

night

I wish

The night would wrap me up

So tightly

In a blanket of stars.

I would gaze at the moon

And smell the nighttime breeze

And hear the hooting of owls.

From beneath my comforter 

Of midnight blue velvet

And fairy dust,

Or scattered diamonds

I'd drift away

Into the cool stillness of the night.

Petty conversations for the weak minded

One day when I was a 6th grader and was particularly displeased with my airhead peers, I told my dad that I was going to write a book and name it "Petty Conversations For the Weak Minded" and use my lunch table for research. He laughed, because that was a very witty thing for a 6th grader to say, and then went back to making dinner.
That night I didn't feel like sleeping (I never feel like sleeping at night) so I began to write a how-to book for those who wanted desperately to talk as frivolously as those who ruled the 6th grade.

1

Complaining

The the most important part of a petty conversation is the dissing. Whether it's fashion, food, or friends, complaining is the key. What brings us together is common hatred, not common likes.

Conversation starter: "You know what I hate..."

Tip: search the very depths of your soul for the smallest worry or dislike. For example: the way someone ties their shoelaces.

2

Fashion

Complaining is the one thing you need for a petty conversation, but what should you complain about?

The Internet Demons

WARNING: UNBRIDLED GWEN-HUMOR LIES AHEAD!