Camp Writings

Songs, poems, essays... we know we're all geniuses and camp inspires the best in us, so lets see some stuff!

 Also check out the OtherWritings.
 And WritersCircle

I am here: ThoughtsOfABrilliantDullard I am Will

I sang this at first session, because it was my sig file for a long time, and I promised quite a few people I'd sing it... but yeah- here are the lyrics, though many of you have maybe blocked the memory of my singing from your minds. *laughs* -JessicaSkater

 O, East wind be behind you, Calm winds that blow
 Scenting the air above you; in youth my heart may grow

 /Chorus/
 Ever it be remembered
 Ever it be remembered
 Ever it be remembered
 And guide you where you may go

 O, South wind be behind you, Warm wind that blows
 Fire of love upon you; in passion my heart may grow
 /Chorus/
 
 O, West wind be behind you, Stormy wind that blows
 Waters of life remind you; in wonder my heart may grow
 /Chorus/

 O, North wind be behind you, Strong wind that blows
 The greenwood be about you; in wisdom my heart may grow
 /Chorus/

 O, Four winds be behind you, Ancient winds that blow 
 The lady's blessing upon you; in love my heart may grow
 /Chorus/

Instead of going to the prom, I wrote this. ;) And. . . I am not going to make any excuses for it. So there.

 tonight

 tonight, amid the golden lights and
 goings-on in the nearly empty field
 and the music getting ready and
 (oh yes, all the boys putting on
 their lipstick), I felt the need to cry
 for these gloriously confused
 adolescents.  how can they ever make it,
 keep from breaking one more time
 when they have lived in technicolor
 underneath the stars?  and when are they
 gonna push themselves too far?
 there is one in particular I am thinking of,
 who is always, always laughing.
 even when he should be sad.  it worries me.
 maybe someday (superstition says)
 he'll run out of laughter, like I have
 run out of tears.  and then where will
 they be, those children borrowed from
 tomorrow, which cynics say will never come?
 but really (let’s be honest) I am crying for myself.

- Naela

By far the most consistent feeling I have at camp is one of being completely, totally, unabashedly overwhelmed. My love, sadness, anger, sex drive, joy, embarrassment, fear, affection, depression, ego, and shock are all at maximum intensity. I look around at the people and I feel the entire range of the human experience… his shiny shirt and I am pissed off, unresolved, frustrated. Her big eyes and I am content, accepted, joyous. His smile and I am sexy, wanted, adored. Them dancing and I am jealous, impressed, amused. Her voice and I am struck, silent, in awe. His laugh and I am laughing along. His tears and I am broken inside. I say I want it to last forever but that's not true. I would exlode, implode, I would never be able to take the heights and lows. I'm glad camp is over - I miss everyone, I miss my boys and my girls, I miss talent shows, I miss dancing, I miss really good conversation, and I miss being in love and in everything else with 120 people at once. But I'm glad it's over. I'm glad that I have a life in which I can breathe in, breathe out, look around, and not tear. (~summs)

I am an obsessive email checker now. Here's a haiku about it. - Emma

  pushing the button, 
  waiting for your next message, 
  makes you email me 

http://www.nbtsc.org/~reanna/performance.html has what I read at the talent shows this year, for anyone interested. -reanna

The New Official Camp Anthem!

by -marina

The lyrics in italic are audience responses.

 We all kick ass
 We don't go to class
 We need more sugar for this job
 The mirror in the bathroom makes me look like a slob

 Gimme a N! /N!/
 Gimme a B! /B!/
 Gimme a T! /T!/
 Gimme a S! /S!/
 Gimme a C! /C!/
 What's that spell? /Not Back To School Camp!/
 Wrong! It spells Nebitsk!

 Carsie likes Not Back to School Camp
 Jessica likes Not Back to School Camp
 Ryland likes Not Back to School Camp
 Ted's asleep but he still likes Not Back to School Camp

 Gimme a S! /S!/
 Gimme a L! /L!/
 Gimme a E! /E!/
 Gimme a E! /E!/
 Gimme a P! /P!/
 What don't we get? /Sleep!/

 We go to workshops all day long
 We stayed up late and wrote a song
 Let people know you think they're cute
 But don't you ever eat a newt

 Gimme a N! /N!/
 Gimme a E! /E!/
 Gimme a W! /W!/
 Gimme a T! /T!/
 What's that spell? /Newt!/

 Gimme a N! /N!/
 Gimme a B! /B!/
 Gimme a T! /T!/
 Gimme a S! /S!/
 Gimme a C! /C!/
 What's that spell? /Nebitsk!/
 Do we love Nebitsk? /YES!!!/

If you'd like the chords tell me and I'll email them to you. -marina

I read this at the talent show session 2. It's about the power shuffle, mostly. -marina

 Are you scared?

 Yes I'm scared, scared shitless, scared witless 
 hitless for there is nothing for my clenched hands to hit
 but everything
 everything I don't see around me
 surrounding me

 so hard to see beautiful people and happy people and smart people
 people I spend my days with, share my ways with
 so hard to see them hurt and hurt
 so hard not to sob, I don't sob, I don't cry
 I don't have a sick feeling in my stomach, like every bit of common  sense,
every wise word, everything I know to be true is coming back  to haunt me
 but I don't know
 I never do
 
 but there's a drumbeat, a rhythm all through the feeling
 so I can loose myself
 be only motion, not emotion
 lose my heart, or rather put it somewhere
 safe for a while
 as safe as not reading
 as safe as a scribbled out word
 safer than razors that are strangers to me
 safer than strangers who might beat me or rape me or maybe not smile  and
look through me

 I want them to stop looking through me

written at the airport. -marina

 They say they love me 
 more than apple pie, frozen grapes
 sunrises or sunsets
 They say they love me 
 because I'm cool, cure,
 outgoing, friendly
 They wish me love 
 Health, hickies, and fun forever
 They say
 Keep in touch
 See you next year
 I'll write you
 We'll talk

 But now it's tomorrow 
 and she asks me "How can you smile?"
 I shrug, pause, say "I can't cry."
 When I stripped the masking tape signs off my sweater
 I called it a ritual cleansing 
 but it was only masking tape
 pulling the fine hairs off my memories
 easily
 Now it doesn't seem 
 right 
 to order lunch, and eat, and pay
 The carpeting and florescent lights 
 grate 
 making my skin tingle
 with a sudden lack of love

Hmm . . . Should I type up the things that I read in the talent show?

~Jasmine~

• Yes!! Because I wasn't there, and I'd really like to see them. Amy
• yes please! i'd love to see them! -marina
• Same here! ~Eryn
• i'd love to see them! i read that other thing you wrote on wikiwiki and it was sooooo good! ~nell

Hey! I need more response than two if people want me to do that much typing...come on! ~Jasmine~

So here's two of my NBTSC writings!! The first one has to do with NBTSC, the second one isn't really about NBTSC, but it has to do with meeting new people. I guess it's one of my bitch pieces, though it's not entirely serious... -Becky

                         -Distress At Sea-                            Way
hey and up she rises! Way hey and up she rises! Way hey and up she rises,
early in the morning.   

Morning of fog, inaudible chanty of the sea. It seems to be something directly connected with the restless, menacing toss and plunge of the waves. My feet, peppered with sand, shining blue toenails of mermaids. I'm so cold. The wild wash of the sea calls me, and I run to it like a lemming, heart writhing back to the source of life from whence I sprung. Our legs run aching across the sand, my heart tossing like the waves to see your gaze linger on Her. I stay high on the doons, away from the driftwood, the melencholy that seems ingerrently a part of the sea. The grass I braid turns long and golden, and when it's time, I run down from the dunes to my people. My people of the sand. "Long time no see." You say. You've run to me as though you longed to sweep me off my feet, but now you're ackward as you hug me gingerly. I tie the grass around your neck, any excuse just to touch you, to claim some part of you for my own. You say you'll wear it forever, or until it falls off. My heart swells like the chanty I can almost hear, beneth the pounding waves.

A Plant of Slow Growth

I'm so flat at times, so two dimentional it sickens me. I get stuck. I don't mean to be that way, God, just the opposite, but it's like there's a little door that shuts in my mind, a door that shuts out my deep, multicolored, mixing, conflicting emotional personality. I become one color, say orange. I get scared. I'm sure that everyone can see how flat and boring and uninteresting I'm being. I'm sure that they're thinking "Wow, she sure isn't as intelligent and unique as I thought she was. I guess I'll never have a deep, psychological, philisophical discussion with her. Better go talk to someone else before I waste any more of my time on this mediocre person."

The trouble isn't that I think I lack depth, but that people don't see my depth. Whether or not this is actually true, I've failed as yet to assertain. One thing I know for certain though, is that I am thouroughly and completely sick of people who expect to get to know you (or at least the better part of you) inside and out in a matter of days. (Although a matter of hours is even better!) And if you haven't bared the inside of your soul to them in this mind-bogglingly brief period, or you haven't shown any unsurpassed talents, charms, or emotional beauty and general endearingness to them, then you are to be passed off as "nice", and perhaps "sweet", and put on the back burner, written to only sparingly, (or not at all) and never to be gossipped interestingly about, crushed on, speculated over, and last but not least, mentioned in Truth of Dare games.

So I'm sorry if I don't delight you by opening up like a jack-in-the-box and showering you with all my inner quirks and secrets in one clean shot, so that we can quickly get over any initial ackwardness and get on to the good stuff.

Who ever said that "friendship is a plant of slow growth"? It was George Washington, but who listens to him? He's dead anyway.

So I suppose I'll go on living in my flat 2-D way, until they start making people who don't care if it takes you awhile to open up. Until they make people who like learning only a few secrets at a time, and are good at keeping them.

Or maybe I'm not the 2-dimentional one at all. Maybe everyone else is. Or maybe it just takes awhile for people to all get to the same dimention.

After all, friendship, as are many other things, a plant of slow growth.

Amen!

 I haven't wanted to go to sleep in a long time
 not since I left, in fact
 not since the dreams started, dreams
 I always wake up from

 Last night,
 I dreamt you put your arm around me and held on
 I felt your love, warmer than
 flannel, or silk, or sleeping bags
 We sat on top of the world.

 How many nights ago
 did I dream about you last
 How many nights ago
 did I dream about you, or you, or you
 I remember one
 where I spun in the field
 One other, when i thought
 "This is a dream"
 because reality is not that good
 and I flew into the night sky.

 Morning sunlight on my face
 is like a snowball
 now that fell the day before yesterday
 and is now more like ice
 I said goodbye once
 waiting until the last minute, wanting today not tomorrow
 to stay with me forever
 Every morning my head is heavier.
 'Goodbye' is not something
 I can sleep off.