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The words echo around my head
who are you who are you whoareyouwhoamiwhoami how are we here howarewehere how did we get here so fast how is this happening so quickly since when did your face look like that to me, because trust me, your face looked different before I fell in love with you
I fell in love with you?
when did that happen? Where did it change from just another guy who liked me to your face looking like that
look at me lookatme since when did I write on this blog? What have you done to me?
what haven't you done to me? Why is it so easy to like you when I'm around you
why is it so hard to like you when I'm around you
why can't this be a consistent no
why can't this be a consistent yes
I need a break I need a break ineedabreak
I can't see you anymore
my feelings overwhelm my brain as I try to sort them out but I can't tell which ones are the logical ones and which ones are the emotional ones
Why do I like being around you so much? why can't I see you like I did before?
How even did I see you before?
I can't remember All I remember is that we were together when we first met, and last week I told you I didn't ever think about you during the day and then all of a sudden I was thinking about you during all hours of the day and night and I didn't mean to start doing that but it's not exactly something I can help
I just wanted to
Why can't I be normal and just feel nonconflicted This should feel right and normal and ready
but it does not and i do not
i've trapped myself in a cage and locked it You keep handing me the key and I keep throwing it away
i want to date you
i want to date you
i want to date you
i want to date you
i really dont want to date you
i really don't want commitment issues
i really don't want to deal with disinterest after I already committed interest
i really don't want to hurt you
because the last time i didn't hurt someone it still hurt both of us
and it was really hard
and why would I put our friendship in jeopardy when I could have everything I needed in a friendship?
Well
truth is,
friendship doesn't exactly give me everything i need
but what would people say? Why am I so worried about it? How would this affect my ability to do my job? How would this affect the way I see you?
It already has affected the way I see you Your face is different You smile more You never look unattractive, except when you do
but going over to your apartment feels obligatory even though its something i want
jared told me he wasn't blind today
i told him it was none of his business
i don't have time for you i don't have time for me
you tell me we shouldn't expect anything out of the other person, and continue to act like we have been
But every day I see you it gets harder not to reach out for your hand or bury my face into your shoulder
I just need a break
I just need to stop worrying about it
i feel like it consumes me all the time
i cant stop thinking about it
i cant act like i don't like you
i act like we're dating because i miss it
but i don't miss the fear
and that's why im confused
it makes so much sense to date you, and yet it makes no sense at all
i like you
I, you
I don't know how i feel about you
but trust me, I'll feel different in the morning.

office supplies

I don't know if you know this, but I check my phone every five seconds hoping that you'll have texted me in the time I wasn't looking.
I realized realized a few days ago that im not your priority. I mean, yes, I'm not your priority, but you're a family guy, and im not a family girl, so yes they came before me. That was tough to chew because my familys idea of bonding is sitting together on the sofa on our phones. You'd choose that over me?no you wouldn't because your familys not like mine i had to keep reminding myself. but id choose you over anything i dont know if you know but i would. if you called right in the middle of dinner id leave and talk to you because anything to talk to you. anything.
you know, you're leaving.
when i walked in the door this evening, I was expecting my parents to say hi. I looked at them and my mom looked at me as I said hi and she didn't say anything to me. I gave her a hug and she still hadn't muttered a word, and my dad wouldn't look at me because he was on the phone.
yes this is my parents and this is how they treat me
this is why i want to move to maine
this is why i love you
because see i always mattered more to you than anything at college (except maybe your distaste for pda, but I didn't mind making you stretch your comfort zone) and then you went home
see, you're not with me anymore
see, it was just too hard to be around all these tempting boys without you here
see, i was very weak
i thought in my heart of hearts somehow i could make you come back
by acting sad
by crying to you
but of course my blind eyes didn't see that all you could do was cry back
and say that you were sorry
and that we needed to be over
for my own dear good
dear God,
God why did you give me him
i prayed for him but God why did You give me the best gift ive ever received and then steal it away from me
i thought You were finished doing that
he loved me
but sometimes i wonder if he loves me still
because he shouldn't anymore
because, see he's leaving
I think yesterday was too much
i was the one who said it somehow though
we cant do limbo
we cant do limbo
i cant do limbo
you can do limbo just fine there aren't 15000 other females up there with you
but i can't do limbo because there are 15000 other males down here with me
but id give anything to be away from the 15000 other males down here
and be up there with just one you
i cant halfway love you and then say goodbye to you when i've found someone better
thats not how this thing goes
you see, you loved me
but its loved
see, he wont say i love you to me anymore
and somehow that makes our love just like
see, we're just best friends now
emphasis on the just
because somehow we don't have now what we had
and the just conveys that appropriately to him
and to me its cold water in my face
because we had something
me, i had something with someone else
who had it with me back
he loved me
loved me for some strange reason i still can't figure out.

we had something made of cerulean colored flowers and sweet peaches
but now we have something made of cardboard and empty envelopes

Dear Elder Adams

Dear Elder Adams,
I wish I could send you this email to tell you how I really feel. I won't send it though. You don't deserve this torture distraction.
I listened to John Mayer the whole day today. I only listened to Neon once, but it reminded me of the time we went up AF Canyon and you brought your guitar. You kept saying how bad you suck at singing, but now you're in the choir in the MTC which made me laugh. You're right. You can't sing. But I still love your voice.
There's one song in particular that I want to share with you, and I'm mad that I didn't ask you if you knew it. I can picture you playing it though. It's called "Stop This Train". It describes exactly how I feel right now in my life, and how I felt the month before you left.
I'm really inside my head. I can't think about anything else but what I should have said and done and how things could have been and how they were. Was I right?
Was I right in how I responded and acted and treated you? And did you interpret it the way that I thought you did or that I wanted you to understand it? I wish you had kissed me, but I'm glad you didn't force me to subject myself to that psychological rewind and replay and rewind and replay replay every second of every minute. And the questions
the question should I have let him do that? Will he be able to focus for the next two years? Does he know I'm not waiting for him? Does he understand the volume of my secrets?
Did you ever want to talk about it more than I told you? Because I did.  I wanted you to reassure me that I was worth something to you. But not just something. More than I suspected. You never did tell me outright that you liked me. Was that because you were too afraid? You don't need to be frightened of me. Maybe you should have been. But I digress.
Put straight forward, I miss you. But more than I thought I would. I miss that I felt more comfortable around your family than I have around anyone else's, and how you treated your little brother and sister and your weird sense of honesty and how you were the first person to not once make me feel bad about myself and

that I'm changing my name and I never told you. I guess you never needed to know, but maybe I should have said something about it.
I started looking up wedding traditions for some reason and I thought about you
that was weird but it wasn't too.
I was texting Hunter and I almost told him that I wish he were gone in your place and that you didn't leave till October.
I also never texted hunter back about hanging out on the weekend and I dont regret it. I think its because I would have felt like infidelity

I can still feel the difference of your heart beat from my head leaning on your chest to pushing you away 
I cant stop listening to john mayer. maybe because it feels like youre not so far away when i do

Sickness of the Lugubrious System

I came home from the doc today and he told me I was sick. I already knew I was sick, but he identified my illness as a chronic problem with my Lugubrious System. See, the Lugubrious System usually stays undetectable, dormant, excepting once or twice a month; that is, with normal patients. He told me my system has an unusually overactive past, flaring up with patchy exuberance when I was in 9th and 10th grade, then declining in 11th grade, and even more rapidly returning to normal levels senior year, but consistently acting up in the summer time. He told me this summer was oddly different. June and July passed with only one instance of spiked levels in my Lugubrious System. Otherwise my levels had been, well, normal for a change. But, he said to me, this week my system's activity unexpectedly flatlined and then rose with rapidity to high levels. It's a condition only seen by patients suffering from Liebeitis; a common but seldom talked about illness. I knew I might succumb, and tried with zeal to deter what I unconsciously knew I would be infected with. I was obviously unsuccessful, and I know it isn't going to be remedied for a long while. After my diagnosis, the doctor encouraged me with the research that 96% of cases like mine partially recover and can still lead normal lives as citizens, and 73% of cases like mine recover fully. It might take me a while, but I know I can recover 100%. At least, I'll know in two years. 

and

15 days left someone told me this morning. They said 15 days and I swear yesterday was still 8 Mondays until then. And the waiting is murder. Because I so bad want to be free 

But I never wanna leave these people that I've always told myself I hate but I just figured out I love them. And I didn't realize it until yesterday

that I'm never coming back

and I'm never going to see the people I love again until the awkward encounters at the grocery store in 20 years

and the worst is that I'm afraid they won't matter to me anymore and those encounters will be awkward and an unsettling reminder of what I once had but lost 

And I want to keep up with the people that I just hear things about and I talk to and say hi to in the halls and don't even talk to in my classes and who likes who and what happened last weekend and I wish I was a sophomore again because I could start all over and never leave and complete the cyclic circle over and over again until I hated it so much that it wouldn't hurt so bad to leave

but I heard change is good

But high school is stagnant and static and unchanging and I want to stay where I'm comfortable and know where I stand and stay and not have to move on to dynamic different new living place and school and roommates and people and return missionaries who just want to get married and real life is just around the corner and I don't want to face it.  

Juxtaposition

Every time I read you I fall deeper in love. 

Every time I see you I cringe back into myself. 

I can see eloquence and intelligence behind your once hidden eyes. 

I cannot look into your face anymore without feeling angry and manipulated. 

I saw you the first day of class and knew I liked you then. 

Although I do admit the first time I saw you I knew something was going to happen between us. 

You didn't seem like the rest of the people sitting on that side of the classroom. 

You told me later you knew too. 

I could swear you were not a tourist on the blogs, but you put up an exceptional front. 

I liked you off and on for so long. 

And then you read your poem in the journal jam one day, and I had to know who you were. 

And I remember the day you told me you loved every single aspect of me.

I had called to talk about another boy. 

I searched for days looking for that post, trying to remember who wrote it. 

I hated that you made me fall for you by making me feel special. 

And finally, after looking for so long, I found you. I was shoved off the cliff by your blog and didn't resent falling for you. 

I remember that time we were in your truck in the canyon. You wouldn't even touch me. 

You never did talk to me in that class. 

And then you told me you loved me. 

But you wouldn't do more than debate making a move. 

But I didn't mind appreciating you from a distance. 

And you moved away for the longest month of my life. But I had a lot of time to think. 

Every time I read your blog I think about how who I thought you were and how you write yourself to be are opposites. 

And now I avoid your eyes. 

And it restores my faith in humanity. 

You both have the same name, but you are the opposite of each other. And as hard as I try, I cannot keep away from one as much as I can look at the other. 

Lol

#realtalk I dyed my hair purple on Friday. I think the real reason I did it is because it bugs my mom. 

#realtalk At the begining of this class I thought my writing was gonna be the shiz but it turned out my writing was shiz. 

#realtalk I only own one tight shirt and when I wore it to school my friend told me she didn't know I was so skinny. 

#realtalk I cuddle more with my sister than I do with boys, but I don't mind. 

#realtalk Whenever it's summer I wish it were fall and whenever it's winter I wish it were spring. 

#realtalk One time I called Megan "Emily" on accident. 

#realtalk When I was in 5th grade I had one of those stupid littlest pet shop digital pets. I think it's still around somewhere. 

#realtalk I've kept a daily journal for 6 years. 

#realtalk I love drying flowers in the books I own. It's like a little piece of summer. 

#realtalk I don't ever wear leggings. 

#realtalk Hannah Montana was my favorite show in middle school, even though I was supposed to be too old for Disney channel by then. 

#realtalk I don't feel bad that this isn't an earth shattering  post because I'm in creative writing 2 next semester, and hey, it was nice getting to know you all. 

I'm trying to remember

I remember the day I turned 8. I remember the day my older brother came home from his mission. I cried, even though nobody else did. I remember the first day of 10th grade, second period American Studies, because I thought the classroom looked like a prison. I remember when my whole family was convinced I looked exactly like Hermione Granger. I remember when I cared that my sister had a tattoo. I remember wanting to grow up exactly like my sister. I'm glad I didn't. I remember when my mom didn't let me paint my fingernails because it was too "grown up" and I was only 7. I remember not being able to comprehend that there were words worse than "I hate you", and that people actually said them to each other. I remember the day I learned one of my best friends had anorexia. I should have figured it out sooner. I remember feeling sick in Washington D.C. because I missed home so much. I remember my old house, even though I moved away when I was four. I remember the first Christmas we weren't a whole family. I remember when I straightened my hair every day. I remember feeling too young to go to sophomore prom. I remember regretting a lot of things from middle school. I remember feeling jealous of my sister for getting out of the house ten years before I could. I remember the year I stopped playing in the snow. I remember eating dirt when my backyard wasn't finished yet. I remember chopping off all my hair the summer before 7th grade and pretending to like it for my mother's sake. I had side bangs I had no idea how to style. I remember the birthday I told my parent's to stop buying me books. I'm glad they didn't listen to me. I remember only wearing a skirt to elementary school twice. I remember the first date I went on. I was just barely 16. I remember the days all my close friends moved away. I missed almost all of them.

Mockingbirds and Slam Nerves (AKA Atticus Monet)

Well, I had Atticus Monet for my white elephant, and I chose her poem At Least I am Trying. I think it's beautiful and I hope I do it justice.

at least I am trying

I am never full
I am a human garbage disposal

and I absorb everything in my path 

So please excuse me for being busy all the time, I'd rather soak in things for myself then gulf down empty hello's and distant meetings that I wasn't invited to because sorry I am busy all the time.

I walk down tile floors under florescent lights and dreaded parking lots constantly thinking

    this isn't going to last forever

            this isn't going to last forever

                   this isn't going to last forever

then snap I am daydreaming

in the meantime, people try to throw their fists down my throat and scream into my absent eyes

but please save your breathe because my soul matured way faster than my body and 

I am just growing still

but not really growing still, I don't want to live like that
                  staying still I decided isn't an option for me 
and raising your voice isn't going to make things more clear


we have been moving since the day we were born

so please quit telling me to sit down 
there are things I have not disposed of yet
if you would just let me find them or allow me to let them go
please let me try 
 then if I fail, I promise I'll keep my head up right so that I won't grow into the ground


but bound here, so far, I have dug tunnels to avoid the way some things make me feel, and secret walls to avoid the empty stares that make me feel less,
bound by time I would regret wasting
I am not a time traveler
 my tunnels just lead to better places, better times, better me's 

I am a human disposal but I do not intend on wasting 
only sprouting 
always growing

I didn't realize this post was 3/4 death.

My name isn't actually Susan Greenwood

I have a confession to make. 

My name isn't actually Susan Greenwood.
But before I tell you who I am I feel like I should say some stuff about myself. Like the stuff 99% of people reading this won't know about me. 

I listen to dubstep more than you think I might. 

I love my sister more than I love anyone else on the Earth. 

As hard as I try to convince myself I'm not, I'm still a hopeless romantic.

I've read Harry Potter upwards of 14 times. 

I made both my Prom and Preference dresses. 

I've always wanted to get a pixie cut but my dad tells me I'd look too butch.

I haven't been kissed yet. (VL game still going strong)

I want to live in New England or on the East Coast when I move out. 

My favorite store is Barnes and Noble. 

I get really bad road rage. 

I've been told I have a killer glare. 

I found Paris on page 27/42 of my journal. 

My name isn't actually Susan Greenwood.

My name is Emily Running.

(That's me there on the right standing next to my best friend, Megan)

1. 

P.S. I actually do like running. Sometimes.

Things you are and things you are not

You are the first ray of sun as it comes up over the mountain. You are the bright yellow of a school bus and the satin gold of my skin in the summer. You are deeper than the black dots in my left Iris. Somehow, you are every leaf that has fallen off every tree. But you are not the branches. I am the trunk. You are the rough rock of prayer on my kitchen windowsill. You are not the stop sign, but you are red. You are not the dull color of my eyes. You are the soft smell of my perfume. You are the green egg in my basket. Although you are not the spiderweb in the corner of the attic, you are the darkness that resides there. However, you are also the window light shines through. You are the friction that allows me to skate on ice. You are the constant readjustment of my hair, and the smell of warm things. You are the last sip of hot chocolate, when it's only lukewarm and your stomach is full. You are the state of mind I get into when I am about to fall asleep. You are the ricocheting echoes when I yell in a tunnel. You are the unbound dreams of little children, and the discarded advice of teenagers, and the heavy feeling in adults. You are the soft lead of my pencil. You are the pain felt when cold fingers warm up. You are the scent and touch of brown leather. You are the sounds heard when it snows. You are the in and out breathing of the earth, so faint, only I can hear it. You are not the lamp post in front of my house. You are not the starched collars of my dad's shirts. You are not my doll eyes. You are the water inside a cactus. And you are the sky during rainy days, and the sea on stormy ones. Supposedly, you are a mallard but I know you're more like a penguin. I am the ripples in the water and you are the rock that makes them. You are the coarse wool yarn of my favorite scarf, and I am the knitting needles that made it. You are the lack of anything in space, and I am the red eye on Jupiter. You are bent pages in the books I own, and the mistakes I find when I read them, but you are also the letter "i". You are not me but I am you,

 and together, we are the number zero. 

Dear Future Husband

Hi!

You probably don't know me yet, but my name's Sue. I hope I'll meet you soon! I think I dream about you sometimes. When I wake up from a nice dream with someone else in it talking to me or holding my hand I try to remember the face but it always seems blurred out. I like to think it's you. I see little pieces of you places, like when Parker got up and bore his testimony in seminary and nobody was expecting it, or when Spencer's shoulders shake when he laughs. In the way that Carter's eyes scrunch up when he smiles or in the way that Tyler used to look at me out of the corner of his eyes and half smile mischievously. I see you in the way Mr. Manson talks about his wife, and how she grows more beautiful to him every day. 

I hope you know that I just want to be held when I cry, and I'll try not to get too many tear stains on your shirts. I hope you're not scared away by my weird family (you probably won't understand half the dialogue unless you were born in the early 90's). 

I like to debate in my head whether you'll have green eyes or blue ones and if you'll have curly hair or not. I wonder if you're the oldest or youngest or middle child (I'm almost the youngest) and how many brothers and sisters you have. 

I like to think about you at night while I'm lying in my bed and if you'll want a big family or a small one (I hope you want a big one:) I like to imagine the scene where I announce to you I'm pregnant and your eyes get all big and you have to sit down, because we're having twins. I like to think about when we're young parents with three or four kids and we're putting them to bed and you read them a story as they sit in your lap. After you tuck them in all snugly and kiss them goodnight while I sing the song my mother always sang to me and kiss them too, we'll leave together and just peek through the crack of the almost closed door until they're all asleep.  

That's a long time from now but I can't wait for it. 

I hope you're out there thinking about me once in a while. And I really do hope it really is you in my dreams. 

Love, 

Sue 

Locked Out

I found myself this morning, eating toast in my jumper and pajama bottoms. I was missing for a while this time. It's like I'm locked out of my own mind. I'm locked out of creativity and locked in this mindset 

of you're not thin enough

you're not smart enough

you're not pretty enough

you're not good enough

you are not enough.

But I am good, and I am healthy, and smart, and pretty, but not enough. 

And I will never be enough in this point of view.

I need to fight it.

Pick the lock.

Talk to strangers,
knit a sweater,
wear it to school,

stand naked in front of the mirror

long enough

until I love myself enough to tear these interlocked chains from beneath my skin,

and bury them next to my closed mind.

Dear Carolina Liar

I said hi to you in the hall the other day, and you smiled at me. Out of courtesy I think. Isn't it sad how it's come to this?

I still remember the first day we met. Mrs. Jolley put us in our seating arrangement in choir and we ended up next to each other. I'm pretty sure my coy 9th grade self broke the ice by saying something like "omg who is that boy over there?", pointing at Hunter. I dimly remember you asserting yourself as childhood best friend, and future girlfriend, which I took as a challenge to win his affection. Right then and there was when I think we became bff's. I was thoroughly convinced I would win (after all (my detestable ninth grade self thought) I was attracting all the boys left and right) and I think we were both hurt when he chose my sister, although we tried not to show it. I remember playing it off when they held hands at my house, and trying to be as nonchalant as possible, even though I'm pretty sure we wanted to kick her out of the picture. I eventually gave up when I realized I had no chance, but we were better friends than ever, having bonded over our mutual jealousy of my sister and our uncanny similarities. I'd never had a friend like you before. I was feeling rejected from my former best friend after she decided a different girl was going to be her new best friend (oh how petty we all were then) and I was looking for someone to replace her, and you came along like my second self. We had so much in common (I sort of recall your want to escape from your friends at the moment but maybe I can't remember right) and it was a new door for both of us. And nothing bonds two girls together more than a friendly war for a boy. There's a blank space after the first innocent weeks of our friendship in my memory, possibly because I've tried to forget how much of a relief it was to have a true friend because I ruined it at the end. The only thing I can remember is being happy and choir, until I confessed my attitude of not caring if one of your friends didn't get the boy I currently liked because he chose me. And then I remember the rest after that. You know if that really is the reason our friendship came to a stop I'm sorry. I'm just sorry for the wasted potential that we could have had, and really, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I may have meant to at the time, but I certainly regret the heck out of it now. I was so blind by the want of shallow revenge, I didn't even give one thought about it. 

So, sorry. 

I'm sorry we didn't talk at lunch anymore, and I'm sorry I didn't talk to you in Seminary. And I'm sorry I said mean things about you to other people, and to you. And I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you when Hunter died, because I know how much he means to you. And I'm sorry this is so long, but I didn't have the guts to tell you all this when I talked to you for the first time after 3 months at the black light dance. So I guess this doesn't make up for any of it, but I just want you to know that my heart hurts a little when I think of what our seemingly best friendship turned into. And I hope you'll forgive me. 

How to Distract Me

I can only imagine falling softly

your warm embrace as I relax and place my forehead on your chest.

The light is rosy and glows gently through my eyelids as I rest in your arms.

Everything is peaceful.

Everything is safe.

Your hands draw snaking spirals on my back

slowly

lightly

and I sigh because I've never felt relief like this before.

Just to be loved.

Just to be held.

And told everything's going to be ok.

Because here's in your arms

I believe it will be.

In this infinite moment of serenity

I don't have to think about anything

and I just listen to your breathing

and your heartbeat

and focus on the benign touch of your fingers brushing through my hair.

It's nice to find the cure for the anxiety,

because when I'm touching you

it all melts away.

And I feel like myself again.

The only two things I'm afraid of.

I'm afraid of being afraid. And I'm afraid of pain. And although those are only two things, they encompass pretty much everything. I'm not afraid to get my heart broken. I'm afraid of trying to mend it. I'm not afraid of trusting people. I'm afraid of getting hurt by them. I'm not afraid of the haunted forest. I'm afraid of the dread and anxious exhilaration I feel when I go. I'm not afraid of heights. I'm afraid of falling and breaking all the bones in my body and living through it. I'm not afraid of living. I'm afraid of not being noticed. I'm not afraid of doing something wrong. I'm afraid of trying to right it. I'm not afraid of people. I'm afraid of being so beneath their notice they don't even give me a chance. I'm not afraid of you leaving. I'm afraid of you not coming back. 

Alive

Alive is when we're driving to school and the windows are down and the cold air is freezing us to our seats.

Alive is when we're in the car blasting the Killers or Third Eye Blind and singing until our throats are sore. 

Alive is when the air is rushing past you on a zip line going 10000 miles an hour and you feel like you're going to smack into the ground or a tree but you stop just in time. 

Alive is when I dropped you off after Preference and wanted more than you gave me. 

Alive is the feeling at the top on Mount Timpanogos when you're freezing while watching the sun rise and your bones hurt but it was all worth it. 

Alive isn't just living and breathing. 

Alive is when your heart is beating so fast you feel like you're going to throw up. It's when there's adrenaline instead of blood pumping through your veins. Alive is living life to the fullest and knowing you only get one shot at it. 

So stop living life afraid of what people think, and crawl out from that rock you're living under. Do something that scares you. Ask that girl out. Make it to the top of Angel's Landing. Try out for the team. Wear that crazy turtleneck to school. Because before you know it, life will be over, and you'll have to look back and decide for yourself if it was all worth it. 

-ick

You are so thick like a brick and my heart pricks from you. The wick of our candle has gone out because you no longer pick me up when I fall. Quick save me I say and you watch as I kick the ground with my body, not moving. You make me sick he says and walks away. The girls in every clique known to man talk and talk and time ticks and I'm still on the ground and the crick in my neck becomes unbearable. So I grit my teeth and stick to the fading hope I have and start my wicked ascent up. My head dimly hurts as I take my licks but I stop and look at the chick you picked up when you clicked out of my life and she's everything I'm not. But let me just say I liked you better when you weren't such a 

I See Dead People

What if we were all dead and we didn't know it. What if instead of living our lives right to attain glory after we die, we live our lives right in order to be able to live? What if everything we've experienced now doesn't matter, because all it does is give us a chance to start over? What if when we die, if we haven't been good enough, we start this life over until we do?

But then the words of a previous teacher come to mind.

"What if aliens came and sucked out your brains?"

So I stop thinking about it.