An Evening Spent In Reverie

Letters That Will Go Unread

To my little brother, I'm sorry that you were bullied. You should of told me. Or maybe its best you kept it a secret from me. It could of gotten ugly.

To the store that sold me my favorite jacket, my top button fell off way to easy. Will you give me a new one?

Hey girl that supposedly used to like me.  I honestly don't want to hear about your love life anymore.

Dear half the people I know, I'm sorry it's a little awkward, I just have nothing to say.

To Griffin Kerr, you don't know how happy I am that we became good friends again sophomore year. Remember that one day you called me over the summer for no reason? Thank you, it meant a lot.

To the girl that I met at EFY two years ago, I have thought about marrying you multiple times.

Hey there brother, so I really don't like your girlfriend. She is annoying and a four at best.

Easy there kid that uses too much hair gel. Easy.

Sorry girl standing behind me at the drinking fountain, I know it's annoying when I fill up my water bottle but I naturally have a dry throat.

To my Mom and Dad, I love you so much more than I have ever expressed.

Sincerely, William Lee Barefield III

How To Be An Athlete

I will keep this post short and sweet. All you have to do to be an athlete is....

Eat your Wheaties.

Opposition to Silence

Everything has an opposite, and as the new and the old became intertwined, all I wanted to do was throw up. It took time but I came to realize that although this might not be my world, it was still a world. So I decided to pack up and run, off to the south. As far as my legs would take me. To go perform tasks that I am not yet capable of. But before I went I just wanted to thank you.

Thank you because a new window has popped up in my life. Before I had you I was losing power. You were my Savior. With that being said, I was not sorry for the excuse I made. Because I knew the second was different from the first. But who would believe that?

The excuse was like a dance of disappearing anemones. You could see it in my body language. You were taught to pay attention to faces. You were taught that faces were the best window into other peoples inner beast.

During our last conversation, the silence caused me to stumble. I didn't know it then but, now I know the reason for your silence. It was because talk is cheap. Words don't say much, and you didn't need words to communicate your love.

Favorite Blogs

There are a couple blogs that I find myself repeatedly checking whenever I log on. My favorites in order are.

1. Dick Tidrow

2. Phyllis Dae Sloan

3. George Costanza

4. Charlotte Charles

5. Esther Greenwood

Highs & Lows of My Past

 I remember having a crush on my next door neighbor. She was also my babysitter. I remember dressing up as Batman. I remember my sister and her friend pinning me down and making me dress up like a girl. I remember the day Cordell pooped his pants in the second grade. I remember having to blow on nintendo games to get them to work again. I remember telling everybody I sucked at drawing to get a couple compliments. I remember when I first saw a pair of Heelys and freaking out. I remember burying my grandpa after his fight with cancer. It was a cold day. I remember burying my grandma next to my grandpa after her fight with cancer. It was a colder day. I remember quitting. I remember my first ever c.d. It was the Backstreet Boys Millennium album. I remember feeling sick to my stomach when my teacher said she was going to call my mom. I remember the relief I felt when I realized she had forgot. I remember really liking a girl for the first time. I remember her friend zoning me and going after my best friend. That sucked. A lot. The more I think the more I remember. I just don't want to forget.

One Word

Dance. Pants. Ants. Crawly. Creepy. Old men. Wrinkles. Sun. Summer. Friends. Ginger. Ron Weasley. Harry Potter. Books. Book of Mormon. Church. Sunday. Nap. Sleep. Dream. Create. Creative. Mr. Nelson. Beard. Scratchy. Soft. Sheep. Farm. Idaho. Potato. Salad. Vegetables. Candy. Chunky. Fat Camp. Movie. Remember the Titans. Football. Friday. Weekend. Free. America. Baseball. Grandpa. Grandma. Cookies. Milk. Cow. Udder. Gross. Tuna. Water. Ocean. Beach. California. San Fransisco. Proposition 8. D.C. Mormons. Pioneers. Lehi. Cheap. Penny. Abraham Lincoln. Smart. Books.

The Day the Music Died

I can't pinpoint the exact time in my life I noticed the music stop playing. The day it died.

                                              

 But I do know that it has been gone for a while now. It was brutally murdered, hauled off in a hearse, and buried six feet deep left to rot. 

I keep telling myself that if I am good that I will somehow be able to find Jesus. If anybody can bring the music back from the dead into my life, surely, it's Jesus.

I just want to go back to the days where the days don't matter. Where I have hours to sit and think on the front steps as the last rays of sun vanish behind the mountains. When I have all day to think, dream, and create. Think, dream, create. Over and over again, never getting old. 

I want to hear the rhythmic melodies of the piano. The hum of the guitar that resonates throughout the room. I want to hear the sweet crooning of the vocalist. I desperately want to hear that song again.