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inspiration * conversation * aggitation * alot of connection

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Lucy B. In Your Own Words Part 2

You may remember Lucy's Part One a couple weeks ago.

Lucy is a prolific teen writer and I am thrilled to send you her PART TWO!

Luckily, my dad was asleep when Sofie came, so we could sneak out and stop him from making a fuss. Last night was hell, I can't tell anyone though. They'll think I'm stupid, that I'm trying to get attention, but I'm not! Anyway, who cares about little me, it happens to loads of girls and boys around the world; whatever age or size they are.  But I somehow knew Sofie would understand, but she'd do something!
 I looked at Sofie, she had a look of worry on her face.
"Sofie, are you okay?" I asked, putting my hand on her shoulder.
"I'm fine. What does it matter anyway?" she snapped, pushing my hand off.
"Well, it does matter...because you're my best friend!" I said, gently.
"Well. I...em. It doesn't matter...really. It's nothing just - Oh, is that the time?" she spluttered.
"It's only ten past eight, Sofie, stop changing the subject!" I shouted, stepping in front of her, therefore making her stop.
"FOR GOODNESS SAKE. IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" she yelled, stepping to the side and sped down the road.
"SOFIE! Sofie!! Stop it. Just talk to me, please!" I screamed after her.
She spun round quickly and swore at me before turning the corner and leaving me for good.

I trudged slowly to school, making sure I was never on the same street as Jess. As I arrived at the school gates, Sofie and the plastics were armed with stones. 
"Aww. Look at the sad little loner! All on her own!" jeered Shona, the leader of the pack.
"I know, I can't believe she actually thought she had friends," teased 

I tried to ignore them, but it was close to impossible. They followed me, kicking my ankles, all the way to the main door. When we finally parted Jess shot a look at me that was so mean and full of hate, that it my my heart hurt. Whilst tears welled up in my eyes, I heard Jess run up behind me. I thought she was going to apologize, but I was wrong. She had another stone in her hand.
It was big.
And was aimed at me.

Thanks Lucy!!
Excited for PART THREE

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Conversation with a REVOLUTIONARY teen


I talk to ALOT of teens and when I say ALOT, I mean, I sometimes don't sleep all that much because I have two or more IM windows open, am carrying on a conversation in Facebook messages and filtering through emails.

Usually teens approach me - sometimes I step in when I see someone being publicly mistreated - but usually teens want just chat about everything that sucks in their life. And that's what I am here for.

But this week while chatting with a new friend on facebook he started telling me how he hates the kids in his school because they are so mean and the teachers do nothing. Now, I can't see anything about the kids I talk to except what is in their profile picture and other pics if I start looking through them but usually I just go on the profile pic.

So, based on the fact that I can only see this kid's face on his profile, I have no idea how big he is, if he looks tough, what "group" he probably hangs with, etc. So, from our conversation I am thinking this kid must be picked on ruthlessly to say he hates the kids at school.



But I was pleasantly surprised when he explained they aren't picking on HIM. He sees them picking on OTHER kids.

Then he says, "That's when I have to step in."
And that's when our conversation gets interesting.

(I am calling this kid Derek because, well, all superheroes need to protect their identity)

"i saw a kid get bullied by the same person day after day, and it sickened me, so i told him to leave him alone and go away. that kid was never bullied by him after that, but i did have some problems with that bully. he did get annoyed with me, but he isn't a problem anymore."

So, what made you step in? You could have just walked by like everyone else was apparently doing.

"i couldn't take seeing that poor kid get picked on and bullied anymore. "
It obviously bothers you deeply to see someone being bullied. Can you explain how that feels to you?

"i honestly hate it. i cant stand it. it's like a dog you haven't fed in a couple days. its sad, hurting, craving help. well, in this, im a can of food."

What is your biggest gripe about your school?

"people just make fun of people to look cool, bad, and tough. well, its doing the complete opposite."
If you look at the big picture, can this epidemic of bullying be wiped out?
 
"if most people do what i do."

Stepping in isn't an easy thing to do. You are putting yourself in harm's way. But you still do it. You are actually putting the welfare of that child ahead of your own. What do you hope "stepping in" will do?

"that will show people that children don't appreciate bullies, and that they want to be left alone, and that they arent gonna take it."

What's your biggest hope for this school year?

"to get people to be nice, kind people."

So, your school day is not filled with just academics. You are also involved in making others school experiences better. That makes for a long day. Do you see yourself continuing to step in when someone needs you?

"yes because not just who i help should be relieved of it. everyone should."
 
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
 
My conversation with Derek was beyond enlightening! 
Derek WILL make a difference in his school this year. Derek is a SUPERHERO!
 
The best part of what Derek told me was that he has noticed other kids jumping in and following his lead. He watches others pick up and start coming to the rescue of those being bullied.
 
Derek is starting a REVOLUTION.
 
Now, what will YOU do with this??
Do the right thing.
Then come tell me about it!
 
 

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Introducing my newest favorite poet....Charlie Christopher

On Facebook I meet a lot of teens and many are struggling and don't know how to articulate their pain. That is not the case with my newest friend, Charlie.
If you can write music, THIS poem needs to have music!
Introducing Charlie, one of the most genuine teens I have met!
My anger is put in a box, chained with locks
And cast out into a vast ocean that is my mind
It floats out into the ocean in a dormant sleep
Then the ripples come
The ripples turn into violent waves
They toss the box waking my anger
My anger grows and stretches the box
The lock gives way and breaks
My anger gets out
It makes a mad dash through my mind destroying everything in it's path
It reaches my thoughts
It breaks into my words
My will snaps like a tooth pick
I turn into this rage filled monster
It rips apart my heart by attacking the people I love
It tells me I'm weak, it tells me I'm nothing
I feel weak, and hollow
My mind shuts down and the monster takes control
I'm like a puppet and the monster pulls the strings
Until it tires and finally it sleeps
And I lock it up and cast it away once more
Knowing it will come back again
But praying it never does


~Charlie Christopher
*Thanks Charlie, for sharing your heart!*

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Think about it.... comment below

Another TEEN In Your Own Words a poem by "Ican..."

One of my fans in Indonesia is a CRAZY GOOD POET! His poems evoke pain and vulnerability but you can feel the FREEDOM his words give to the sometimes painful situations he writes about.

You will see him here more often. He writes A LOT and shares his work on his Facebook page.

On Facebook he goes by  "Icankalwaysagonyscreampain Trappedblackholeofdeath Blackveilbridesandbmth"

Welcome, friends. Enjoy!

I woke up, my body lying
I feel lighter, my soul drift
I think my leg, not touching the ground
I saw my body could no longer breathe

My disappear, possibly death
But can not get out, I increasingly bound
I see me, oh am I?
My time is stopped, the death of my


My body was floating ...
Thousands of fire burn ...
Oh was hot ...
What is happening to me? ..
I saw a black shadow ...
But I also can not escape ..
I kept running .....
Until my crashing, awake!

My soul is oppressed, in the dark
Sick ...
Lonely alone in the silence
Scary world

Want to rebel, my soul was torn
Oh ... I die!
Follow the black shadow

Take me away
Natural dark ahead
I'm afraid to die ...
My soul shattered
Slowly and disappear

Sick ...




He will be back. There is much more to be read by "Icankalwaysagonyscreampain Trappedblackholeofdeath Blackveilbridesandbmth"

xoxo,

Lucy B. In Your Own Words

A lot of the teens I talk to have a well-developed creative side. For many, creativity is an outlet for the pain they suffer through. For some, that pain stems from abuse, an addiction, depression or just a sucky situation.

Writing has been a gift for me not only because I am talented with my words, but because it is a way to share my life as I heal. Most of you know what I am talking about.

I would like to introduce you to some of those talented writers that I am proud to call "friends."

Lucy B. is one of those phenomenal writers!

Take a look inside Lucy's world.

"So, what are you wearing for prom?" asked Sofie.
"I told you, I'm not going, I don't like wearing non-sleeve things, and we all know the dresses are strap dresses," I lied.
The real reason I wasn't going is because my dad had forbidden me to go to any social events. I didn't wear short sleeved things because it showed my bruises from dad hitting me.
"Well, wear a cardigan then!" she suggested.
"Sofie, I'm not going and that's that!" I snapped.
She looked at me, shocked and then looked away to check the bus times.
"Sorry," I murmured.
I thought I heard her utter: "it's okay," but I must of being hearing things. Anyway I was too deep in thought about how I would attach the new lock I bought onto my door wondering if it would be stronger than before. Stronger than the one dad broke when he wanted to come in. I told him I was drying my hair, but he didn't care. He wanted to hit me again. Then, when the door opened, the lock fell to pieces. Remembering what he shouted at me, and the way he looked at me, pur hate in his eyes. I couldn't help but let out a little whimper.
"Natalie, Nat, are you okay?" Sofie asked, cautiously.
"Yes. No, it's just-" I stuttered, before Sofie (surprisingly) butted in.
"Listen, if you’re having flash backs about the car crash with your mum, then that's okay. I understand, but don't cry. You know it makes me cry too!" she said, shaking me softly and giggling.
"No, no it's just my dad, he-" but before I could finish the bus had arrived and Sofie was chatting up the cute bus driver.
"Come on Nat!" she shouted from the double seat. "I got us seats by the window!"
I skipped on and acted normal, well, as normal as any teenager could when they were being abused by their parents.
After a few minutes of butt aching bumping up and down, we finally arrived at my stop. I said ‘goodbye’ to Sofie and muttered a quiet 'thank you' to the driver and started trudging down my road. It was a long walk from my bus stop, but dad said I needed the exercise, so he only gave me enough money to get to that stop.
When I finally got home I found dad snoring like a pig on my bed. I shook him gently to wake him up, but it turned out he wasn't in such a good mood.
"What did you do that for, you stupid cow?" he shouted, grabbing my arm and twisting it. Hard.
"I wanted to. Ow! Dad you're hurting me!" I exclaimed.
"Good. You’re a stupid, selfish ugly waste of space! No wonder your mother killed herself!" he yelled, twisting my arm harder.
"What?" I hissed, a little too meanly.
"You! You drove her to suicide. She drove that car into a river because of you!" he growled, letting go of my arm. "She couldn't breathe, the water was rushing up her body, like this," and he started from my hips and went upwards, then stopped at my neck. "And then the water went into her mouth, and then there was no more breathing for her. Like THIS!" and his hands closed tightly on my neck.
I couldn't breathe. My own father was strangling me. But surely he wouldn't kill me, would he? But then his hands left my neck and went back down to my hips again. He pushed me onto the bed so I was sitting on it, then he sat down beside me.
"I'm sorry. I'm a silly idiot, can we hug?" he said.
I nodded slowly, but it was more than a hug. He pulled me down so we were lying on the bed, and then his hands started sliding up my top.
If you have a story/poem/journal excerpt you would like to share, email me @ saylorsays@yahoo.com
xoxo,

Monday, December 27, 2010

Introducing Lucy B. ... "In Your Own Words"

Lucy is a survivor of horrible abuse at the hand of her father - Her poem is below. It is a TRUTH for many teens out there. Our parents are supposed to protect us, show us how much they love us. But not all of us are that lucky.

I am a firm believer in the mindset that NASTY things come into our lives to strengthen us for something we will need to be strong for in the future. Maybe Lucy will be a teacher someday and a student on the verge of suicide will confide in her and tell her secret. Lucy will be able to honestly say, "I KNOW how you feel. Let's get through this together."

If you consider yourself a SURVIVOR of ABUSE - you are also a future HERO in someone else's life. Stay strong and reach out. You will be used for BIG things and you may just save a life!

And now I will give the floor to LUCY...

 I sat there weeped,
There was nothing I could do.
The family sleeped,
But not I.

...
I listened for hours,
Not knowing what to do.
My tears came in showers,
But nobody cared.

I lay in bed at night,
Trying to ignore it all.
I still shivered with fright.
But nobody knew.

The abuse just kept on going,
I know it wasn't to me.
But as a witness,
It's just as bad.
All you hear is shouting,
The madness never-ending.
Never-ending...never-ending.

But then I found help,
The help was my voice,
I shouted and yelped:
'This is killing me. Let. Me. Go!'

And then they came,
The police,
The colour from my face, oh how it drained.
What had I done.

What would he do?


Thanks Lucy B. for sharing.
If you have a poem, story or rant to share please email it to saylorsays@yahoo.com

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Introducing Kelsi Jo... "In Your Own Words"

I am so excited to announce the "In Your Own Words" segment of the Saylor Says blog! So excited!

Basically, if you want to share a piece of yourself in words this is the place. You can rant about something, write out a dream, describe your hopes, write some fiction or give your thoughts on any subject under the sun (that applies to teens, of course)!

I found our first FEATURED TEEN on FACEBOOK! I had posted a CALL for WRITERS in my status and before I exhaled, she had commented and wanted to know if she could send me something she had written.

It was fate because this girl is going to write for a living one day and now she can say she is published! The world wide web can come read her words! How very cool! She's got her 15 minutes of fame, although if she keeps writing, she will have many more minutes coming her way.

So, without further ado, I introduce you to:

KELSI JO!
"my name is kelsi jo i'm a reader and writer i also do ballet. i love music, i laugh 99% of my time, i have red hair"

"i knew i was dreaming, which was weird because i never dream. Just a black hole. I was walking down an archway, the doors were all lined up and closed. Then they flew open. I wasn't surprised or scared, i was curious at the least. Each room was different, one was plain white. Another had a bad tv reception. It also had a girl who was holding her head, like she had a horrid headache. As i reached the end of the doors, the floors started beating, like there was a heart growing underneath the tiles. The beating started pulsing off the walls. A small figure was forming in the wall, like a shadow. It moved around in a circle. Soon i ignored it and moved forward, but instead i moved backwards, arms stretched out on either side of me. A tear escaped my eye and traveled down till it started making a puddle on the floor. And my mouth tried to make the words come out like it has tried so many times before. i cant speak, i locked up all my words....."

How many of you have ever felt like your words were all locked up? What made you panic? Was it a memory? Was it the possibility of humiliation? Was it fear?
Feel free to comment and "in your own words" write something about being "locked up..."


** RULES for commenting on "In Your Own Words:"
These words are not only written but OWNED by the author. Your comments must be respectful and positive.