Friday, April 29, 2011


Sunny in Chicago.
Why is mother nature so Bi-Polar???

But on another note..
I keep having strange dreams.
2 nights ago. I just kept seeing this freight train over and over again.

Last night, A man i've never seen before. I was watching him, watch me. Does this make sense?

Here's to hopes for better dreams tonight.


Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Oh dear..

It's raining... again.
It's like we have to trade 6 hours of sunshine for 6 days of rain.
Luckily I have my internet up and running. Seriously, what did I do without you for so long interent?

But I was sitting next to a friend in class and she was showing me these "slenderman" videos. Marble Hornets and what not. Kind of creepy. Apparently these are a pretty big deal. That's another reason I set up a blog page. There seem to be quite a few of these stories on here. Some are a pretty decent read. I think I might be hooked!

But back to my first and most important passion..

AFTER the torchlight red on sweaty faces 
After the frosty silence in the gardens 
After the agony in stony places 
The shouting and the crying 325
Prison and place and reverberation 
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains 
He who was living is now dead 
We who were living are now dying 
With a little patience 330
Here is no water but only rock 
Rock and no water and the sandy road 
The road winding above among the mountains 
Which are mountains of rock without water 
If there were water we should stop and drink 335
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think 
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand 
If there were only water amongst the rock 
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit 
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340
There is not even silence in the mountains 
But dry sterile thunder without rain 
There is not even solitude in the mountains 
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl 
From doors of mudcracked houses
                                 If there were water
  And no rock 
  If there were rock 
  And also water 
  And water 
  A spring 350
  A pool among the rock 
  If there were the sound of water only 
  Not the cicada 
  And dry grass singing 
  But sound of water over a rock 355
  Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees 
  Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop 
  But there is no water 

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Oh Chicago..

Dear Chicago,
I hate you in the winter.
But oh how I love you in the spring.
The sun has finally made its way through the clouds.
Please stay this way forever.

Thanks bye.


Monday, April 25, 2011

Hello Everyone!

I'm Penelope, I'm a writer, I'm a dreamer, I'm a thinker, I'm a poet. I want to get to know you all. There is a grand side to everyone.

I want to stay young forever.

Forever Yours,