I lost my ticket in the wind

I would like to describe my mind to a loud baby.

voices, voices, voices

choices, decisions to make and time is running on

He called me beautiful

She told me I will never be able to deal with my problems

He said I could do it, I could be who I want

She gave me hope that I can be good if I make it happen

He took too much and gave too little

You're so happy, I love you - I hate you, You're no good - you're exactly what we are looking for

people say that you remember less than half of all happens in a day, but I can't forget what they tell me

There is a constant stream of thoughts in my head, and sometimes all I want to do is yell them out

People can like you, and sometimes people don't know you.

My mind is always overflowing, but I sit and stare at white walls like I have nothing better to do with my time.

So I guess my mind is like a loud baby, sometimes I am okay with what goes on, I love when my mind tells me it's gonna be a good day. But occasionally my mind screams so loud my head hurts and the only thing I can do is sit and stare at white walls, waiting for hope.

Sincerely, Paislee Jane

He placed his hand on her shoulder and he said, don't worry  good times are up ahead

 and the tears will dry up over time...

Three, number Three

Why does it hurt?

They don’t tell you that heart break is like tidal wave. Sometimes you can see it coming but often times you can’t. You can’t tell until it’s right on top of you and it begins to drown you, ripping the breath from your lungs and the life from your body.

No one tells you that the tidal wave is 1000 emotions that hit you all at once, and each of them have their own distinct voice, screaming out so loud you can’t even focus on one.; Anger, resentment, fear, loneliness…and the worst of all, an endless aching that feels as deep as the sea.

Self doubt. Where every single flaw and insecurity you’ve ever had in your entire life is suddenly there again, all at once reminding you as they rear their ugly heads that no matter how old you get, or how far you’ve come, you can never escape them.

And all you want to do is yell, drown them out, make the voices stop. But you can’t yell loud enough because that heartbreak has taken away your voice and it’s left you silent.

People don’t tell you how, in a few days, you’ll start to think “Yeah, I got this.” “I can do this.” “This isn’t so bad.” Until that emptiness sneaks up on you again, that pit in the base of your stomach, and your heart pumps too slow.

The smell of cologne in a shop at the mall, a song, a joke, a certain sound or the way someone moves or a habit that is so ingrained in you because of them. The dam breaks and the water rushes forward, taking you and drowning you in that heartbreak once more.

how to get over heartbreak: (tips from Victoria Morgan)
1. go to a museum and realize other things have history too
2. be okay without being okay because you were okay before
3. watch Jane Austen adaptation until your eyes become raisins
4. talk to yourself, in your home, at the store, in your car, because there are things you never got to say and you don't have to swallow them
5. join Tinder, make your profile picture a model, don't talk to anyone just swipe, because it can feel like killing ants
6. write, write the same metaphors over and over because there is only so many ways to describe being destroyed
7. cry, because there is nothing shameful about clearing your eyes
8. take all your broken pieces and build yourself a tower because you are a queen
9. watch every chick flick movie that has kissing just to try to get his stamp off your lips
10. Fake it till you make it, everything is going to be okay

songs to listen to when your heart stings:
1. Don't worry about me - Frances
2. Last Kiss - Taylor Swift
4. Happy - Natasha Bettingfield
5. send my love - Adele

I hope one day my heart will tell me the truth and be more like my brain

 but please keep it optimistic

because heartbreak sucks 

and I don't want any more things to hurt my heart

Sincerely, Paislee Jane


in the end she knew he loved her-

not

I made myself look like a fool.

When I was in the 2nd grade I made a fool of myself. It wasn't the first time I made myself look.... well lets just say a little less than intelligent, and it definitely wasn't the last time either. This is coming from the girl who broke her toe playing ping pong, and crashed a snowmobile within the first three minutes. I tend to not have luck in umm well every day activities, but this one experience sure took the cake. 

My dad had been prepping me for this question weeks prior, before he tucked me into bed one night he decided that it was the right time to tell me.

Fast forward and I'm sitting in Miss Crumrines 2nd grade class. The room smelled like little kids and elmers glue. She only had to ask the class one question, and Boom my hand shot straight up because I knew the answer, I actually knew. Being the teachers pet like I was, I probably would have raised my hand anyways, but this time was special. 

I began to explain to the class that the reason we celebrate this holiday is because... well when the Titanic was traveling to mexico they had to carry loads of mayonnaise with them on the ship. They carried the mayo because the people of Mexico couldn't make chicken salad sandwiches, so they were deprived. Suddenly in the middle of the night the Titanic hit an ice burg and all of the mayonnaise sunk. That is why we celebrate the sink of the mayo, or since it mostly affected the people of Mexico you can say it in a Mexican accent which would be pronounced cinco de mayo. 

As I was telling my story my teacher went from pleased to annoyed, she gave me the same look she would give me when I was disrupting class. I questioned while telling my true story why she gave me that look, but quickly brushed it off. 

When I finished my story I remember a kid with glasses laughing, I knew I was a funny kid, cracking jokes all day but I didn't know I was that funny, after all history isn't supposed to be funny. Miss Crumrine told me that my story wasn't true. How did she know, she was still young and my dad must have lived through it. I told her that my dad told me that story and how he isn't the type of guy to lie to his children. When I said that the bell rang and we were off to our yellow dinosaur bus.


It was dinner time in the Henry house, and the topic of the conversation was cinco de mayo. I explained how my teacher didn't believe the reason to why we celebrate it, and my parents laughed. My dad later explained that he was kidding. He was not a man that jokes around often so it caught me off guard. At that moment I didn't want to go back to school. I knew exactly why the kid with glasses was laughing, and now my dad was a liar. 

When I went to bed that night I hoped everyone would forget the naive girl who said what she believed was true. but they didn't, and the kid with glasses was sure to remind me of it 8 years later.

Now its just a big joke, alongside all my other mishaps.
I'm not who I once was, but I am a spitting image of who I once was.

Sincerely Paislee Jane
xoxo EH

ps. do people even read blogs anymore????

Forget, I wish to forget

Some days the cold air stings my skin all the way to my heart. I know I have a heart, not because some Yale doctor told me that "yep you most definitely have got a heart inside you" No. I know because I feel it, it beats faster when your near me and it feels all too slow when you're gone.

Why can't I fast forward till the day when my heart dosen't sting like it is right now. Buzz buzz buzz, get theese bees away from me. I can't take it anymore. 

I'm the youngest in my family and along with that comes the talkitive-ness. As Dr. Kevin Leeman put it, the youngest is the charmer. I've been an only child since my brother left, and I have nobody to talk to. Sure I can tell my friends what I feel, but they don't want to hear about my lungs filling up with water and slowly drowning me in my mind because I overthink and I can't help it.

Sincerely, Paislee Jane 

I wanted to write, but got scared of my own shadow

The past few days I have wanted to write on my blog but, well I'm scared now.

I kind-of like hiding my thoughts in a cream colored lace basket. 

but how can you have a lace cloth basket actually hold anything, well you can't.

Can you?

I wish I could put my mind and heart in a safe, like the type of safe that sits up in one of the huge houses up in Alpine, and what do the people up there even keep in their safe anyways?

password, pass-code, finger print, no entrance for intruders.

But that's not where it sits, instead it lays in a cream colored lace basket. sometimes my mind spills through the holes in the lace, sitting on the counter for everyone to see, and staining the basket but don't worry there is always bleach.

I tried to make sense of my mind and got pulled in the current.

drown, sink, float, fly.

I can't gather my thoughts, speaking my mind before I can process. 

My mind is temporarily out of order

Sincerely, Paislee Jane 

xoxo, EH