Yesterday I trippedover my self-esteem, landed on my prideand it shattered like an iPhonewith a broken face. Now I can't even tellwho's trying to give me a compliment.

I don't know much,but I do know this:Heaven is full of music,and God listens to my heartbeaton his iPod. It reminds himthat we still got work to do.

Yesterday, I injured myselfand the explanation didn't make sense.I said, "Well, I was walking..."and that was the end of the story.At this age,my body is a stranger that Ikeep meeting over and over again.The words "I am" are slowlytransforming into "I used to be

I enjoy....laughingfor absolutely no reason at all,but I don't allow myself to cryas often as I need to.I have solar-powered confidenceand a battery-operated smile.My hobbies include: editing my life story,hiding behind metaphors,and trying to convince my shadowthat I'm someone worth following.I don't know much,but I do know this:Heaven is full of music,and God listens to my heartbeat

Most of what I know I've learned from falling, from placing the brighter sideof my hands against the earthand pressing until vertical.The ground has taught me more about flightthan the sky ever could.

And sometimesit all arrives at once.The anxiety, the fear,the voices that scratchyour confidence likea chalkboard and somehowall the oxygen in the roomsuddenly becomes waterand you begin to wonder ifyou have what it takesto grow gills. You wonderif you can blend in with the fish.You wonder if youwill ever breathe again.And the answer isnot every building that shakeswill collapse.The answer is not everything that chipswill crumble.The answer isthis is temporaryand yes, you will.

So I've never caught a live grenadewith my bare hands.So I don't know exactly how it feels,but I imagine it's a lot like getting a textthat says, "Hey we really need to talk.

In one of my earliest memories,I am eight years old,I have a fistful of afternoon,and I am asking the summerif it will always be this glorious.I remember taking a deep breath.Trying to get as much July into my lungsas humanly possible and thinking maybeI'd be able to convince it that 31 days just isn't enough.

I was born and raised in California.And here, our models and riverslook like they're on the same diet.Throughout the years,I've watched both get smaller and nowI can see their ribs when they exhale.In California,our freeways are decorated with signsthat ask us to be careful about howwe use the water.They hang like an eviction noticefrom the environment. I wonderhow long it will take the planetto tell us we can't live hereand the locks are changed.