S**t Happens

So, I'm sitting here on Christmas Day talking with my family about perfection. I'm not exactly sure how the topic was brought up though. Anyway, for some reason I decided to grab my journal and write something. The first thing that came to my mind was "s**t happens" so that's where this starts.
S**t happens all the time. If you really want something to go right, something else will always mess that up. For example: My team qualified for the state cross country meet this year, but I was so nervous the night before the meet that I only got four hours of sleep and ran about a minute and a half slower than I should have because I was extremely tired. Another example (I find this one a bit funnier): I was standing at the bottom of my stairs, looking out the window and waiting for my ride to school, when the trim above the window falls off and hits me on the head. Of course my brother, nineteen at the time, walks down the stairs and bursts out laughing when he figures out what the thud was and why I was sitting at the bottom of the stairs holding my head. Ironically my ride forgot to come pick me up that day, so I was about fifteen minutes late to school.
S**t happens, and there's really nothing you can do about it but let the moment pass and hopefully laugh about it later.
Laughter can usually make a conversation better...except for those time when it just makes the conversation really awkward (and yes, I did just change the subject). Have you ever been in that situation when you are talking with someone or a group of people and you laugh right at the wrong moment? Yeah, you should be happy to know that you aren't the only person that has ruined a conversation. To do this you probably either said the right thing at the wrong time, or the wrong thing at the right time. Personally, I find that saying the wrong thing at the right time is much more interesting...if that makes any sense to you. It makes perfect sense to me, but I guess if it didn't, I probably wouldn't have written it down.
On that subject, things making sense can be one of the most important things in the world to people. And branching off that subject a bit, common sense is also one of the most important things in the world, but sadly not everyone has that. An example for using common sense: Most people would do anything for a friend. You follow what your friends do. If your friend goes to a party, you go to the party. If your friend sings obnoxiously in the car, you sing obnoxiously in the car. If your friend jumps off a cliff (that is, without anything to soften their landing like, say, a parachute), your common sense kicks in and you don't follow because it would be extremely stupid to do so.
Stupidity is one of the main parts of human beings. It's not technically a body part, but it might as well be. Stupidity can be a very useful thing. It teaches us. Stupidity will very quickly teach us to never again do whatever it was that we just did.
And another topic change. Now, I'm sitting outside on my grandparent's porch, listening to the birds sing and a dog bark way off in the distance. I'm also watching Pooky, my grandma's cat, walk up to the door to be let into the house, then run away every time someone opens the door for her. Cats are very odd sometimes. All animals are. Like the birds that are flying over to the bird feeder, taking one seed, then flying back to the tree that is about fifteen feet away. Then of course they fly back and do the same thing over and over again.
I feel like I need to explain my surroundings right now, since I'm sitting outside and writing about birds anyway. So, here goes my attempt at descriptive writing, of sorts...
The sounds of the birds and the wind gently rustling the dry, fallen leaves, and blowing through the bare, seemingly lifeless trees are the only sounds that I hear while I sit writing in this tiny journal. There's a certain calm that I can only find here at this house, in the forest that I visit once a year. The ground is covered with the orange and brown leaves of the trees that spread out for miles around this hill. Over the wood railing of the porch and I can just see the broken rocking chair with its cracked white paint sitting down near the tiny pond. The pond, usually chirping with the sounds of water dwelling animals, is completely still, the animals now slumbering at the bottom for the chilly winter months. The holly bush to my right is still bursting with that brilliant green color that it always gives, even when everything else around it is a dull shade of brown, orange, or yellow. There is no sun to brighten the day, but despite that and the slight chill in the air, this place brings me peace. It brings a peace that can be found nowhere else, the peace of the forest with it's wonderful sounds of nature. It is the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, the chirping birds and the fluttering of their wings as they fly to the bird feeder hanging near the edge of the porch...
And now my moment of peace is ruined because of, what sounds like, a very tiny dog barking non-stop.
Like I said before, s**t happens.

Reviews

[Olive Belikov]

haha i really liked this! and i can totally see you standing there in front of the window when the thing falls on your head. And i can just picture you letting out a string of obsenities as your brother comes down and laughs. and you know... practically everything you said is true. haha great job :D

[Sunflower 20]

haha, very nice story. i especially enjoyed your attempt at descriptive writing. well done :)

[Coyote Poetry]

Your words are true in the story.
"Like I said before, s**t happens."
I like the many places you took me in this poem. Situation can lead to craziness. I like the complete story. The ending made the story perfect. Always something to turn the mood and the thoughts. Thank you for the outstanding poem.
Coyote