24 days

24 days till my life changes.

24 days till I can't take naps, go hiking, snap cute girls, and go camping.

But it feels like it's already here.

I'm already sending "final" texts to friends that I probably won't ever see again.

But it's for a good reason I'm going.

People say I have a talent making other's feel special, but I'm really starting to wonder if it's true.

I've made people cry lately.

I want to be the kind of person where if they are depressed, lonely or just bored I can cheer them up and make them important through either my words, writing or something else.

I'm scared I'm going to be as bad as this piece of writing is.

But I'm going to have to wait 24 days to find out.

And I'm getting a weird feeling that it will be 24 days before this is read(whoever you are, email me at spencer.smith@myldsmail.net , it will make my life).

Guess I will know in 24 days

Take your marks,

Get set...

BANG! The gun goes off.

It's the junior Olympics in Carroll County, Virgina.

It means nothing to the world, but it means the world to a kid who just found his love for running.

But 100m in he was in last place.

He didn't like that.

So he sped up, passing people and grades till there was only 100m left.

But he wasn't in Kindergarten anymore.

He's about to graduate.

Maybe be sped up too much, or maybe he just wasn't paying attention.

But he's not sure if he wants to finish the race.

Yeah, it's been a painful race, and he's questioned himself hundreds of times why he's doing this. He wants to finish so badly.

But once he's done, not only is running done with, his friends are gone, and so is his old life.

There's a new race coming soon, but he doesn't want to run a marathon.

Three days late to love

My Mom has always taught me that the good comes with the bad.

And love is the prime example of that.

The feeling you get when you know someone deeply cares about you, it's unmatched.

But once someone is done "loving" you, they hate you all of a sudden.

Love, one of the best things in the world, brings out the worst in people.

And when you're 3 days late to love, the roses are dead, leaving only the thorns.

The $2 box of chocolates is past it's expiration date, and so is that note that cute girl wrote to you.

Mom also said you get second chances if you're fortunate, but with love you're lucky to get the first.

Wandering streets with lonely faces

Everyone's always on the lookout for the new thing.

Is seems Paris is for old timers.

Whether it's San Fransisco, LA or Rome, it doesn't matter.

I'm on the outskirts of Paris, and every day seems to be a rainy one.

I occasionally see the faces of Courtney Rome and Jusy Korra, but they've kept up wih Paris much more than me.

I'm not sure what my next city will be.

It could still be Paris, or Buenos Aires or Wellington or maybe even Boise.

But just like Paris, I don't choose the city.

But whatever it is, I just want to hurry up and find out.

The thought of having to wait for 2ish months is killing me.

True Worth

My house is full of books, and probably 10% of them have been read.

I'm just hoping I'm not one of those books gathering dust, taking up space.

I want to leave my mark.

I want my family, friends, and others to remember me.

We will remember Michael Jordan for being the greatest basketball player ever, Lady Gaga for how weird she is, and Donald Trump for thinking he can fix the country.

Heck, even Yoda, a puppet, is more famous then I could ever dream of.

Me? 

What will I be remembered for?

I will remember things about you, but what will you remember me for? 

Maybe crying during my talk in church, the skinny kid who doesn't have much to say, or the hyper-competitive guy who usually doesn't win?

We live in a world where "greatness" is defined by followers, likes and comments.

But, just because 2971 people follow you, that doesn't make you a good person.

True worth, is sitting with the lonely kid at lunch, listening to your friends when you would rather do anything else, and writing notes to your siblings after a rough day.

And true worth is more important than how many likes you get.

The life we are used to is almost over.

We've applied for college's, and some of us have already started on our mission papers.

Once we get to college and our missions, we will make friends and learn to be trusted solely off our character.

I won't be remembered for basketball, weirdness(at least I hope), or being the most powerful puppet in the universe.

I'm not sure what I will be remembered for, but I sure hope it's my true worth.

*This class has been my favorite since day 1. Thanks for reading and commenting on my blog, it means more than you think. And thanks Nelson for the good time*

Spencer Smith 

Pure Solitude

Slowly being rocked back and forth,
With the wind shaking my seat, we inch up the mountain.

My little brother won't stop complaining.

At last, we get to the top of the lift.
It's peaceful up top.
A place of pure solitude.

Once they are finally ready, my parents say my favorite words "you go ahead. Meet us at 4". It was 8:30.

At last. Freedom.

After bombing down a run, I head up to the real summit.

After trying to go down a certain run and being stopped by the ski patrol and a 10 minute explination of how dangerous avalanches are, I went down it anyway.

Dodging trees, flying off rocks and sharp turns has turned into my winter.

I caused a few minor avalanches, but they didn't hurt anyone.

After a day filled with this and no lunch, seeing 2 skiers on the routes I did, it was time to call it a day.

I escaped with only 2 bruises, some scratches, broken goggles and a cracked helmet.

So it was definitely a success.

I forgot to remember

I forgot that I'm supposed to remember the most important things, and it's just starting to come back.

I remember when the only worry I had was whether the top branches would hold me.

I remember when girls had cooties,

I remember when I used to figure skate.

I can remember that 2+2=4, but I still have to think about 2+0.

I remember crying at the end of where the red fern grows.

I remember when my crush said hi, and I forgot to say hi back.

I remember my first airplane ride.

I remember falling 50 feet out of a tree with a scratch #blessed

I don't remember the first back flip I did, or the first peak I reached or my first pair of running shoes.

But I do remember the back flip in front of my date, my favorite mountain and my lucky racing spikes.

I remember all the pains of loneliness, sadness, and hopelessness.

I remember the feeling of forgetting to do my homework.

I remember my first snow and the peaceful feeling it brought.

I remember my first time skiing, and how bad I was but I haven't stopped.

I remember my very first trail run, wondering why I hadn't gone before.

I remember my grandpa even though he died when I was 3.

I remember every mean thing my brother said to me.

And 

I 

Will

Remember

YOU

Dear Eva Peron

I still don't know if it's pronounced Eva or Ava, but anyways your blog is one of the best. All of you have read her blog because it's "famous" and stuff.

When I first pulled your name I got super excited. I mean, who wouldn't? You have made top 5 3 times and you have a bunch of awesome quotes and poems. Your worst post is better than my best. So props to you for being one of the best on here.

These teenage years, they're open late. I don't mean supermarket late, were talking barefoot jaywalking, windows down, loud music, whispered voices because mom's asleep

Late.

But mom can be harder to avoid then the current middle east.

And my nuclear war head heart has been beating a little harder lately.

If I fall, look for the crash, because NO ONE will be left standing.

And a quiet exchange will be culmination of something quite extraordinary.

Time is my greatest enemy,

Except, your enemy isn't supposed to be something you want more of.

Now for the explanation. I took some of my favorite quotes by you and a few quotes from the real Eva Peron, and tried to make a poem about it. So basically a grand theft poetry of you and the real Eva. Sorry if it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I just think in a different way than most.

I don't know you that well Brooklyn, other then we read each other's blogs, we follow each other on Instagram, and one of my friends took you to prom last year. But you seem super cool. You're writing is amazing and I can tell you write all of it straight from your heart. Your writing makes me think hard. It almost always has a deeper meaning(whether you've intended that or not). All of my posts have had one and they're really hard to understand. 

I should probably stop rambling about how good your stuff is. It's probably getting old. But thanks for your writing.

Mountain Nomad

Err I mean Spencer Smith.

But you can call me spence.

Umm

Sometimes it's hard to find a good first line,

And so is getting up for the journal jam.

It's like the feeling inside, when you know there's fireworks, but your heads so heavy you can't look up.

You know you won't regret it, but that first step is hard.

And so life goes on

My friend just visited church.com and called that good for the day.

My friend was content, but it hurt me.

And pain is a flower most people pull from their garden.

Life is hard guys.

But some days I'm just pretending to shiver.

The most important lesson I've learned is being happy is a choice.

I see life as a journey, and I'm just trying to fall in love with mine.

I suggest you do too.

I'm the 17 year old calvin

When you see me in the halls, I will be smiling. I'm a happy guy. Life couldn't be better.

But it's not perfect either

I'm one of the most competitive people I know. I HAVE to win. I've gotten better at hiding my emotions when losing, but it's still very much there

I've never made top 5 or probably been considered for it, not on any one's #stolen page, and gosh dang it Nelson, the only picture from my journal that you've shown is the someone else page.

And I'm going to get lots of views on this post, because most will think it's my reveal but i've already done it. And you guys will be dissapointed and not comment.

My dad tells me to do my homework, 

My mom says I'm way too skinny, 

My sister says I'm stupid

Girls adore me(hahahaha jk)

My grandma says to eat more, 

My friends say I talk not enough or too much, 

And my young men leader's tell me to pay attention.

And I tell them to leave me alone

Because I don't care what they think. If they don't like me that's their problem!

I don't have a name for my pen name, someone I'm aspiring to be. And that's for a reason too.

I'm a nomad, by definition I wander around and do whatever the heck I want. Whether it's in the mountains, my journal or my basement, I'm just here for the thrill of it.

The REAL introduction

I've been hiding behind a mask. You have too. But even batman has to take his off on occasion.

You might not know who I am, and you might not even care.

 I know I'm not your favorite blogger and this might be the first time you have looked at mine.

Here are some things about me:

• I love camping
• I wear short shorts more often than I'd like to admit
• I'm a runner(yes i enjoy it, it's not as bad as you think)
• I've never broken a bone, but I've had countless "invisible" injuries
• I cry more than most guys
• Dance parties happen quite often with my 3 year old brother
• I've been on top of every mountain in Utah county
• If you are what you eat, I'm a animal cracker

And I am Spencer Smith

"Messy" tunes

Apparently I'm messy.

My room is messy, my car is, my backpack, my closet, and my music too.

Wait. Messy music?

I don't know, go ask my dad

Last time I checked tribal seeds and coldplay weren't messy... But whatever.

But while my dad is rocking out to his Patsy Cline, his "neat" music isn't too neat to me.

Music is a type of art, just one you have to feel, not look at. It's different for every person.

Like Mr. Nelson likes Paris and Ketchikan likes Ketchikan( i've been there, cool place) and Courtney Rome likes Rome( just a guess), and how I like the mountains.

So next time my parents ask me what I'm doing, I'm working on an art project 😉

Winter is on the way

There's a chance of snow tomorrow, but when I look outside the tree next to my house hasn't lost a single leaf.

My neighbors wood-burning stove is working hard and the thermometer just hit 47°. 

But winter is a good time of year.

Winter is when you snowshoe up mountains and then ski down.



Winter is when the funnest moments you can't feel your fingers and toes.

Winter is when mom has hot apple cider and toffee waiting for you at the door.

And because the birdsong might be pretty, but it's not for you they sing. If you think winter is too cold, then you don't deserve my spring.

The proper way of bushwacking up a mountain

Things needed: a mountain

1. Find every possible way up, then pick the 2nd hardest one.
2. Start hiking up.  If there are any little (10-20) foot cliffs nearby, climb them.
3. Take pictures(throughout the hike).
4. Get at least 15 scratches on your legs.
5. Once you reach the top, do some kind of a cool dance move(personally I do the lawnmower).
6. Do something stupid on the way down.
7. If you are not sore the next day, you didn't go up fast enough.

Chronophobia

Whenever I go up the basement stairs, I run because someone scary is chasing me.

I'm scared of that time it takes for me to run up, because those 4 seconds are lots longer than its seems.

Add all of the times I ran up from the basement, that's close to a month of being chased by a mad man.

Chronophobia is the fear of time. In this case, I'm scared of it.

The Perfect Rock

If only when skipping rocks, they came back like a boomerang, because the perfect rock only skipped 7 times for me.

But then you would need the perfect water to skip it in.

But everything can't go your way, because if it did that's that only rock my hands would touch.

That rock would be my Golden Snitch, the only person to touch it would be me.

But it isn't that way.

Instead I have to find ones that are okay, and lose them seconds later.

I want to stop divorcing rocks.

I want the world to stop divorcing rocks.

Why can't we just find the perfect one and stay with it?

I want a boomerang rock.

Surrounded

I'm terribly weary
Of new faces,
I can feel the concrete rising up through my chest, piling at my lips, I'm turning to stone
Solid as granite, this is more than just a wall,
More than just
A statue, my
Organs go too.


#findthedeepermeaning

Mountains

Most would prefer the sun and getting that nice tan over the cool breeze and the mud.

Most for a vacation like to relax and get that nice tan instead of wandering around some trees and rocks.

But not me. 

The mountains are a sacred place to me. 

A place of solitude, where I can think without my mom yelling at me to do the dishes. 

A place where I can think

(True fact: I've wriiten all of my stuff somewhere in the mountains, excluding my intro)

The mountains are my paris. There is a particular place I like the best, but it's in Alaska so I can't go as much as possible.

I see the mountains as a artist. I don't take pictures. If I did, that's all my instagram would have in it. 

But I haven't posted a single picture of me in the mountains. And i'm going to post a picture a place i went on friday.

So if you follow me, you will know who I am. If you don't, tough luck.

Puppy love

Love in high school isn't really love.

We think we know what love is.

My parents are in love. They've been that way for 25 years.

High school relationships don't last that long. 

Love in high school is like baby teeth. We think that we need them, but after a bit we learn that we are better without it. 

Puppy love.

Simple.

Stupid.

And short.

I'm sick of all this anonymous crap, I'm revealing who I am

PSYCH!!!!

I've gotten interested in page views and I think titles play a big part in it.

If the topic is hats and your title is hats, you probably won't get many views, unless you have a pretty good reputation.

On the opposite side, an eye-catching title, like mine, will probably get more page views, at least I think.

So thanks for reading, and sorry for the disappointment.