Callouses and scars

I love callouses and scars. On my feet, on my hands, on my elbows, on my shoulders, on my knees. They mean I've used my limbs and my energy to do things. They're little reminders that I've worked and played and danced and prayed. The balls of my feet and my toes and heels say I can dance and run and step on rocks and sand. My second toe is longer than my first and bears a little callous on the tips from dancing on my toes and hitting them on the ground and jumping around in clogging and ballet and running. The sides of my feet show all the times I've worn high heels and ripped through the skin to get blisters until they hardened to protect me from my own fashion stupidity. The skin that should be soft on the ball of my feet aren't from marching band and blistering them beyond recognition with two-inch blisters a half-inch thick, and then marching on top of that anyway, all bandaged and padded. My knees are scarred and calloused from kneeling on cement and concrete and dirt to plant and weed and pray and help little kids tie their shoes or powerslide and fall. My shoulders are calloused from holding drums and hiking backpacks for miles. My hands have callouses from using shovels and axes and moving hay bales and digging trenches and mucking stalls. My elbows have army crawled through dirt and sand and carpet to play army games with little kids and cousins and friends, or sneak up and prank someone in their tent or sleep. I have scars on my ankles from the first time shaving and whipping them through weeds while running. I have a raised scar on my chest and neck from chickenpox, and sevenon my fingers from hot glue guns and splinters and knifes. I have one on my back from being rubbed raw, and so many on my knees from falling in track and gym burns from speedball and basketball or skidding on ice or kneeling on legos and puncture vines. My shins have experienced jumping onto a concrete block, missing, and ripping them open on the edge. The side of my thumbs are scarred from stressfully tearing at them with my teeth over and over again, and my left calf has a tire mark scar from my foot slipping off the pedal and getting the skin burned off by the back tire of my bike going down a hill. My arms have scars from cuts and mosquito bites when I was little and when a hot-poker got set on one of them. I can remember each incident with clarity, but only because I have reminders. They're not pretty and other people might think I'm weird for it, but I love my callouses and scars.

Texting

I was thinking today about why I'm so emotionally drained and mixed up all the time. But then, as I was replying to the hordes of texts I receive, I realized that that's it. Because I have to be something different in each conversation, give something that that person needs. Like today. All at the same time, I had nine different conversations going. I had to be funny, or flirty, or sympathetic, or serious, or deep, or reprimanding, or uplifting. And it's tough. I wonder how it would be if I got rid of texting now. Or if the world did. Would it have any effect? If Daniel, Quentin, Krystal, Brandon, Jackie, Ashlyn, Ben, Loren, and Roger couldn't text me, all needing different things because they're all different people all needing a different part of me, would my down time be more relaxing? Probably, just because I could veg out and not care. But that's not really me. I like caring and helping. I love it when people text me with their problems and want help. I wish I could help more. But does texting really do anything, connect at all? I wish I could split myself and go and talk to them in person. I should invent that. Maybe if I had my entire self available for one person at a time, it would be more than that half-baked feeling I get. You know, when you have to go back and read the previous texts because you can't remember what you were talking about? I feel horrible about that sometimes. But then I'm to tired to care at others.

So I obviously have no idea what this whole post is about. Just mashed up feelings I guess.

how should I phrase this?

Has anyone noticed how angsty some teenagers are? I mean... I'm not a completely level-headed person all the days but I mean REALLY. I try to fix things before they get to the point of "OH MY GOSH MY WORLD IS FALLING APART BOYS BOYS BOYS SEX SEX SEX BROKEN NAILS ARE AKIN TO RAZORS BEING DRAGGED ACROSS MY FRAGILE SKIN AND I HATE JUSTIN BIEBER BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD SAYS THEY DO MORE BOYS BOYS BOYS KISSING KISSING KISSING DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE SOMEONE LOVE ME AND FAWN OVER ME BECAUSE I HAVE TO SHOVE IT IN EVERYONE'S FACES THAT BOYS WANT ME FOR MY *coughslutcough* BODY AND I HAVE SO MANY PROBLEMS I'M AN EMOTIONAL WRECK I NEED A BOY TO SAVE ME FROM THE DARK BUTTERFLIES THAT ENVELOPE MY HEAD AND NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME AND THEY NEVER WILL BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH

I hate girls that call themselves real when they're TOTALLY NOT AT ALL.

Fancy Feast

Has anyone watched those fancy feast videos on youtube? the ones about the couple who fall in love and get married and advertise fancy feast? Yeah. They make me cry. Both from "awww that's just so perfect and cuuute" and "frik why isn't my life that perfect and cute!" I must be pathetic. But I really miss that kind of thing in my life. I want to get married and have babies already. And now I need a fluffy white cat as well, to whom I can feed perfect little tins of fancy feast to. I can see that going awry.

Here's a scenario.

Husband: Good evening wife. I see you're cooking me dinner with your heels and pearls on. There's a good girl. It's very correct to come home from the office in my dark blue suit and leather briefcase to the smell of roast beef. Where's our children?

Me: Playing quietly in the nursery upstairs, darling. Just like every evening. *Dazzling smile* Would you like a drink? Perhaps some bourbon? I have the newspaper right here for you. Sit down, put your expensively-clad feet up. Ah, here's our cat now, just like clockwork. Coming to sit on her master's lap. Remember how romantic it was when you used her as a kitten to propose?

Husband: Yes, yes. You said something about a drink? Fetch it while I stroke the cat and read the paper, would you? There's a good girl.

Me: Yes darling. Please remove your shoes before entering the dining room for dinner; I just had the white carpets cleaned today.

Husband: That drink, dear.

Me: Yes darling. It's just... you don't always remove your shoes and I spend so much time cleaning that it's really quite annoy-

Husband: *clears throat, rustles newspaper, looks meaningfully at the sparkling crystal bottle that the liquor is stored in*

Me: Yes darling. Come kitty, we'll get you your Fancy Feast after I make your master a drink. I cleaned your crystal bowl out for this special day: my wedding anniversary. You must remember the wedding?

Cat: *looking balefully out of perfect green eyes* Mrow.

Me: Yes darling. *pours drink, hands off to husband, opens a can of Fancy Feast chosen from the neat stacks of tins in the cupboard* Here you go kitty. *walks into kitchen* Husband dear, dinner's ready. I made it just the way you like it. The children have already eaten; we'll have this special dinner I prepared for hours all by ourselves.

Husband: Frankly my dear, I'd rather eat Fancy Feast with the cat.

Me: Suit yourself. *Takes a tin of FF, rips open Husband's mouth, and shoves it deep down his throat until the screams become gargles of blood and finally fall silent* Come kitty. You can eat in the dining room with me. *picks up cat and crystal bowl of FF and walks into the next room*.

The end.

whatevah.

*sigh*

I hate that I'm still not over it and that you hate me.

Maternity Shoot Strikes Again.

I hope I'm this cool when I'm pregnant.

Maternity Shoot

Taking pictures of Julia made me wish I was pregnant.

Is that weird?

and now we come to the close.

What else is there to say? When the opportunity was there, it was allowed to pass. I guess I should be used to associating this nausea with the memories. Whatever happens...

Gavin :)

Walking around fair tonight with my little brother was the best thing. A girl his age asked if I was his sister and after saying yes, I told him that he should introduce me to his friends as his girlfriend. After telling me that was really weird, he said "Hi. This is my girlfriend Kira. She's the prettiest girl here, isn't she?" It made me feel so much better about the universe.

hope this hurts :)

Facebook. How you slay my life.

I'm thinking about deleting it.

Anyways :) So life has been pretty sucky. I'm rather proud of how I've kept it together. Someone has to be the man around here. Luckily I've got the bestest support in ze entiah vorld. But as a brilliant someone said to me a while ago, the pain goes away or changes. And then you can move on. I didn't follow the other advice, where you get another guy to forget the old one. But it'll happen someday. And even though I'm still crazy green-eyed over every word and smile and laugh, I just punch a puppy and it's all better. Just kidding. Only pillows. I would never punch a puppy.

Last night my pillows received a beating, as well as this morning. The poor darlings. Maybe if Facebook wasn't around to make everything so darn public. Possibly I need anger management. Also non-stick drama spray. Dramadramadramadrama. My way of releasing some anger/sadness is replying, but then erasing it before I hit send or post. And then no one knows how I really feel :) mostly. Sometimes I do hit send. But that feeds drama, and I dislike drama. However, this post is pretty drama-saturated. But I don't care for now. Possibly I'll delete it laters.

I love these kinds of blog posts. Where no one really knows what the crap I'm talking about except a few people. I hope it sucks as much for them as it does for me. Because I'm in the childish mood of sharing my anger a little bit, AKA as much as possible.

One of my pathetic wishes

Anyone else wish they were movie-star gorgeous? Like, the perfect body-shape, sexy and hawt? I know I do. But nope :) I'm stuck in the prison my reflection gives back to me. It could be worse, I'm grateful that my mind works well and I don't have a limb missing. I guess it's being average, mediocre, that gets me. I have brown hair, not a dark-chocolate brunette or long honey-brown waves. But just brown. Medium, curly brown hair with bangs that are too long to be bangs but too short to be called anything else. My nose isn't a tiny Grecian model or a big, beautiful, interesting nose. It's just a nose with weird dips at the front that make it pointy and my nostrils flare when I laugh. My eyes aren't frikkin awesome green beautiful orbs or super-blue oceans or deep, soulful brown windows. They're grey. Sometimes they're green in the right type of light or blue when my clothes reflect it. But they're grey. Not interesting speckles or rings or deep colors. Just grey. Mouth is thin and a weird muscly shape from playing the clarinet. No dimples. No cheekbones. Round jaw with little dips where my round chin begins, like on my nose. Regular neck, not long and willowy and pretty. Body is a major meh. No butt to speak of. Hands aren't long and graceful and thin. Feet are average as they come, size 7-9 depending on the shoe. Callouses and scars everywhere on me from working outside and falling down and hot glue guns. A couple raised scars from chicken pox. Farmers tan and obvious shorts tan. I don't even have a radiant personality that makes everyone happy. I'm a cynical realist :)

Sorry this post was so blah. You probably didn't even read it. If so, sorry. It was pretty childish. But it's just one of those days!

blerrrg

I feel really really sick right now.

That nasty hot sick that you get for no good reason like germs, but it kinda melts your eyeballs and shrinks your stomach to the size of a baby grape and then balloons it out into a fireball almost instantaneously afterwards. I call it Information Sickness. And I hate it.

Missed a Spot

I missed a spot while shaving my leg. One of the most annoying feelings ever.
I am now going to write a list of other annoying things.

When automatic doors don't open until you're right next to them so you have to slow down and you feel like an idiot.
When you're opening one of those double Popsicles and you try to break them but it all ends up on one stick and then you're holding a double Popsicle on one stick and a naked stick.
Finding an unshaved spot on your other leg in the EXACT same place.
Sitting in church - or anywhere - and then suddenly getting REALLY ANGRY for no reason, just being bored, and forcing yourself to continue to act normal, like you don't want to get up and start hitting people with bullets.
Starting to fall asleep and then getting itchy for no reason. So itchy that you can't even think, all you see is red and frustration.
Texting and stepping off a curb - only there's no curb. So you just pick up your foot and put it down harder than normal and you feel like an idiot.
Doing the same thing with going up or down stairs.
Reading a book and marking the page while you go off to get some OJ or whatever and then coming back and the page is mysteriously no longer marked and no one confesses to touching it.
Someone ridiculing you for something and then it turns out you were right but that person isn't around to rub it in their face and you just know that at that moment they're being all smug and thinking you're retarded.
Texting someone who texts back with "K" or "lol" and then gets mad when you don't text back.
Texting someone who sends you their text again if you don't reply fast enough.
Having a sticky keyboard.
Or a sticky doorknob.
Getting the knees of your jeans wet and then walking around all day. On the flip side, taking off said jeans and changing into dry ones is one of my favorite feelings in the world.
Taking a shower and dropping the shampoo on your foot.
Sitting somewhere for a while - computer, piano, bed, that kind of thing - and realizing there's a bug right next to you that's been there for who knows how long.
Waking up and stepping out of bed, and then painfully realizing that you have shinsplints.
Walking around and getting stabbed by a lego or a goathead lying on the floor and then being crippled worse than if you had a broken leg.
Having a weird eye thing that won't stop watering no matter how much you wipe it away.
Realizing that there's a hole in your pants. Of course, not until it's bedtime and you're standing there in your bright pink underwear from Victoria's Secret, holding up the jeans and thinking "Dang... All day..."
Saying something funny but really quiet and then the person next to you repeats it and gets all the laughs.
Having super great hair that just happened but then you have no where to go all day.
Listening to someone blow their nose in class during a test and just knowing how awkward it must be for them but not being able to do anything.
Someone giving you a wedgie. When you're not a little kid. And in a bathing suit and boxers. Yeah, I'm talking to you, bro.
Having a scab and REALLY wanting to rip it off but... then it's gross. And you can't anymore because you're old and supposed to be mature and not rip scabs off.
Going home from the beach and trying to wash off your feet before getting in the car but never being able to get your feet washed and dried before the sand accumulates again.

This is all I can think of right now. There are more, however. Maybe I'll post more later.

Walks in the Dark

While returning from a difficult walk around 11 pm, I was listening to music very loud and walking fast and not paying attention to where I was going - because I've walked that road a million times - but then I suddenly stopped. And tried to stop the sudden bile from rising in my throat... Because there was something running a foot in front of me. My first instinct, after throwing up apparently, was to back up. And it kept running, until it disappeared into the bushes. It was black (because it was dark) and oval in shape, and running on short skinny legs. It looked like an owl. But then I thought "Hey, owls don't run!" so then I freaked a little because it could have been a skunk with its tail raised. But then it ran out of the bushes, curved around, and ran back in. I didn't see a skunk body. It still looked like an owl. But owls don't run, do they? Not even ground owls. Right?

Albertsons

Tonight I went to pick up two things at Albertsons: orange juice, and mascara. I didn't expect to come home with a bagful of old memories.

I was chilling in the orange juice section - my most familiar section - and then I got nostalgic when I looked at the sunnyD and remembered trying it over and over because all my friends (I say all, I had like two good friends and a lot of cousins) loved it and I hated it. Every time. I still do. And then I counted all the orange drinks and there are about 29 different ones in Albertsons, not including sunnyD. And I've tried almost all of them. I have a favorite that I get every time: Florida's Natural With Pulp. That's it.

And then I remembered those little coupon dispensers. Do you remember those? They were red and you pulled little slippery slips of coupons out of them, and then it would whir and another one would pop out, ready for you to pull. It was like magic. I pulled them out all the time. I would run in front of my mom - which she hated, because she'd always run over me - and pull them all out and then put them back in the top so they could be reused. Because my mom never used them. I didn't understand that. I thought it was money, pretty much. I was really sad when they switched to the current Albertsons and they didn't have any of those red dispensers. I remember a lot of stuff about that Albertsons. I remember my mom saying she would love me even if I looked like a troll and had green hair. I remember the pinatas would hang from the ceiling and the day my mom told me they weren't filled with candy at that point. That was a hard day. And I remember when Ayla was born when I was four and I showed her off to the check-out lady. We went to that lady almost every time and I always wanted to show her something, like my new CTR ring, or a bead bracelet I got from the dollar store. I miss that old dollar store. It was by Hometown Pizza and Mikes. I liked Mikes too. They had a cool crafts section.

Then I wandered around some more, and I found some 10 for $10 spaghettios. I never had those. Ever. I remember being three, and sitting on our old nineties blue carpet, watching our old tv when a commercial for spaghettios came on and wanting them really bad because Madelyn had some in her food storage. I thought they would be squishy though so I never asked. I remember that the Rugrats came on right after that and not being allowed to watch it because it was a "crap show" so I went outside and played on our rocket tree instead. I miss that rocket tree, and the climbing tree. I buried two broken barbie babies right by it. And digging them up again to play with them, and then burying them again. I wonder if they're still there. The same day as the spaghettios commercial my mom taught me how to write my name, so I wrote it everywhere. On my dresser, on the bathroom wall behind the towels, on the spring-cover for the screen door. I did it behind the towels because I hated the towels and I wanted a bathrobe. I never got one of those either. Or slippers or those eye-covers.

Anyways. Back to Alberstons.

I then wandered to the liquor aisle. I had never really been down that one before. I stopped and looked at all of them. Wine has some very beautiful names. I wonder who invented them and how they stayed in business and who buys them. Maybe they have different tastes even if they're just a tiny bit different. Like my orange juice vs. the same kind but with calcium added. I wonder if I would like the taste of wine. I randomly remembered then that Necia always wanted to name her kids Bergita and Berguta. Maybe one of the wines had a similar name.

Then I went in search of the coffee. But they didn't have pretty names like the wine.

And when I was done looking... I didn't want to go home. Home is way different now. Necia goes to college and has surgery and a potential fiancee. Ayla sings Jonas Brothers and stuff and doesn't know anything about growing up with 90s music. The little kids never play outside on rocketship trees, because we have five computers they can play on instead. Our house is way bigger and doesn't host blue carpet. But. I still don't have a bathrobe. And I still haven't ever tasted spaghettios.

Obsessed

I had a nightmare about my camera not working... I think I'm obsessed.

scents

I hate it when I randomly smell this scent when I'm doing nothing at all, like drinking orange juice or shampooing my hair or pulling the covers over me and my bear at night. It's so impossible for the scent to be there that it makes me mad.

I feel dumb.

What is this high everyone's talking about?

I barely felt a thing. And that makes me feel awful and totally selfish towards the people who tried so hard on making this camp the best. My mind was a little lack-luster.

The only time I cried was when EVERYONE else was sobbing and I couldn't feel a thing. It was like my heart broke. I felt homesick the entire time - something I haven't felt since I was nine and in Alabama with my grandma - and I just wanted to sleep the entire time, curled up with my teddy bear. And when we got those dog-tag necklaces it hurt.

And then I get home, and it feels empty a bit.

But that emptiness is probably just me.

memories suck at times. mostly.

I was looking through old photos ( I say old, not really) and I got to this one and I saw a comment and I died a little inside. Stupid memories.

broken for just a second.

this is me being weak for a little bit.

I really... really miss him.

I miss texting him all the time.

I miss calling him retarded names that just jumped to my mind. Like dingbat.

I miss his indignation at being called those names.

I miss being able to call him my boyfriend.

I miss having that special claim over him.

I miss holding his hand.

I miss his hands, period. They're amazing. They fit mine and I love how they look.

I miss them tickling me.

I miss his arms wrapping around me all the time, like when I'd be looking in the fridge and he'd just come up behind me and hold me, just to be near me.

I miss him wanting to be near me.

I miss when he'd randomly give me flowers that lasted forever.

I miss calling him and leaving him voicemails that never said anything but I just giggled the whole time because I was imagining him listening to them after work.

I miss seeing him at work and laughing and hiding from him and then giving him the fastest hugs so his boss wouldn't see.

I miss giving him neck massages when he was dying from work.

I miss missing him when he was at work but knowing that he'd text or call right afterwards to say that he missed me too.

I miss him texting me first thing in the morning and saying good morning even if it was one in the afternoon.

I miss waiting for those texts for hours and wanting to text him just to talk but not wanting to wake him up.

I miss telling him to go to bed and then talking for five hundred more years.

I miss him falling asleep in my lap because he was so tired but wanted to hang out with me anyways.

I miss talking to him in his sleep and laughing because I said funny things but he was asleep and not listening.

I miss him waking up and yawning and saying sorry but really I didn't mind.

I miss him saying that I was the best thing to wake up to.

I miss him calling me beautiful even when I'm not.

I miss him calling me cute even when I'm not.

I miss being able to tell him that he's so attractive and all the things I love about him and then arguing with him over them.

I miss getting into quarrels over who loved who more.

I miss how we never fought until we broke up.

I miss looking at his eyes and seeing them be green and blue at the same time.

I miss playing with his super soft hair while he would hold me.

I miss looking up and seeing him smiling his special "Oh that Kira" smile at me.

I miss his jaw. I miss playing with it and rebuking him for not shaving or praising him when it was smooth but loving it no matter what state it was in.

I miss him taking my hand and rubbing it against his jaw to show me that he shaved and how happy it made him that it made me happy.

I miss him trying to lick my nose or touch my ears and then freaking out until he won. Because he did almost every time.

I miss hugging him and always kissing his neck really fast.

I miss his bottom lip and tugging on it when he was pouting.

I miss him being happy.

I miss being able to make him happy.

I miss making him mad or sad and then being able to give him a single look that would instantly make everything okay and then he'd take me in his arms and kiss me and we'd laugh and I'd pinch him.

I miss pinching him.

I miss that little jump he'd make with a tiny squeal in the back of his throat when I pinched him. It made me laugh.

I miss him making me laugh.

I miss being sarcastic with him.

I miss telling him what to do and then say just kidding but he'd do it anyways because he loved me.

I miss him loving me.

Most of all though, I miss loving him.

I had the ant-in-my-pants syndrome.

So I went for a walk around eleven to my bridge.

It was kinda scary.

Especially when I got there and the lightening illuminated the old old house right across from the bridge that someone used to say was where Slenderman lived.

But I just layed there on the rickety bridge, watching the lightening reflect in the water and listening to the leaves rustle and the thunder crack.

It was pretty.

Until the house creaked.

Then I left.

*Great story bro you should tell it at parties.*

Wisdom Teeth

I got them all pulled out today. And I've been sleeping off the effects since nine am. I was told that I wouldn't be able to remember the procedure because only one person out of the many they've done remembered anything.

I remember the whole thing.

The awful shots and the one in the roof of my mouth. The scraping and ripping of the gum as they pulled them out and that nasty smell when they had to cut some of the tooth off in order to remove it.

I also watched a part of it in the oral surgeon's glasses. But then I had to stop because I felt like throwing up.

Also the Valium didn't work very well last night. Before I fell asleep, it was working awesome. I even called people and sang them songs on their answering machine. And playing around on Facebook but I can't remember that well. I just remember my fingers feeling numb and heavy and pushing lots of wrong keys but being too tired to backspace. And singing to myself while looking at stuff. It often wasn't very nice.

But then I woke up a lot from nerve dreams where I didn't have a jaw or I missed the appointment.

Also I apparently woke up and listened to Krystal's voicemail at like one in the morning. and replied to a text at almost midnight. I don't remember either of those. I must have been super tired though because I texted back "good might:)" instead of night and that's pretty pathetic.

Now my jaw/neck hurts and my gums are huge swollen things like tonsils and they're probably going to kill me. I'm afraid of tonsils. I've only told like one person this but I don't really know what they are and they scare me so much. Like they're going to kill me on purpose some day.

I don't know.

Also I look like a chipmunk and I woke up a little big ago with blood all over my pillow.

So that's gross.

yaay i jsut took some emedicines and now i feel drunke and i want to go to sleepp liek it's suppoedes to do and i don't want to go to bed because it's searly and i realy misss talking to people in perticualy and then i called and no sanser and then i sand a song and it was a good one so i'm scared agout my teeth stomorrow and so i ihatei wisdom teeeeeethh and so i sdon't feesl like fixing this an dmy fingerss are messin up and i scan't realy thinkk aso i should go to bed njow i'm agraid i'm goin to foget to btush my teeth and it wil be gtross fro the tdensit and also i can't remeeeeeeemter how to stanf up very well

I'm gonna puke.

I'm about to do the hardest thing that I have ever imagined.

I'm really sorry to everyone. Especially to my best friend that I lied to so many times. And the person who could have been my best friend but I screwed that one up and drug it out. And them already moving on hurts a heck of a lot more than I thought it would. I just don't want it to get rubbed in my face because I'm already doing it to myself. But that person? Really? Oh well. It should have been them all along.

Then I wouldn't have to be in Hell right now.

I didn't know it was possible to become the jealous type of girl everyone hates.

Not me I said.

I'm cool.

Hah.

Five Years Time - Noah & the Whale

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8YCSJpF4g4

Oh well in five years time we could be walking round a zoo
With the sun shining down over me and you
And there'll be love in the bodies of the elephants too
And I'll put my hands over your eyes, but you'll peep through

And there'll be sun sun sun
All over our bodies
And sun sun sun
All down our necks (?)
And sun sun sun
All over our faces
And sun sun sun

So what the heck

Cos I'll be laughing at all your silly little jokes
And we'll be laughing about how we used to smoke
All those stupid little cigarettes
And drink stupid wine
Cos it's what we needed to have a good time

And it was fun fun fun
When we were drinking
It was fun fun fun
When we were drunk
And it was fun fun fun
When we were laughing
It was fun fun fun
Oh it was fun

Oh well I look at you and say
It's the happiest that I've ever been
And I'll say I no longer feel I have to be James Dean
And she'll say
Yah well I feel all pretty happy too
And I'm always pretty happy when I'm just kicking back with you

And it'll be
Love love love
All through our bodies
And love love love
All through our minds
And it be Love love love
All over her face
And Love love love
All over mine

Although maybe all these moments are just in my head
I'll be thinking ‘bout them as I'm lying in bed
And all that I believe (?) might never really come true
But in my mind I'm havin' a pretty good time with you

Oh

Five years time
I might not know you
Five years time
We might not speak
Oh
In five years time
We might not get along
In five years time
You might just prove me wrong

Oh there'll be love love love
Wherever you go
There'll be love love love
Wherever you go
There'll be love love love
Wherever you go
There'll be love love love
Wherever you go
There'll be love love love
Wherever you go
There'll be love love love
Wherever you go
There'll be love love love

Wherever you go there'll be love.

Our parking lot, June 7, 2016. See you there :)

my toes are covered

the cotton warming up my little toe that

sadly

never gets warmed.

i think that's the only bit of me that's warm.

In The Left Lane

I often think that I should move to Europe, because then maybe I would get things right. Maybe I would hold my tongue a little better before I snapped of someone's head, or perhaps I would realize that brains really do count a little more than a nice body and stop feeling so depressed all the days. Or maybe, even, my boussole a la morale wouldn't be so frikkin off. I'm tired of straying into the left lane and getting hit.

Jealousy. It's a booger.

I'm seriously awful.

I get so frikkin jealous over everything. I want to lock up the things I love and never ever let them out, never let anyone else see them or touch them or talk to them. I'm a loser. I want people to like me, and then be my friend, and then be MINE. Ack. I disgust myself.

Sunny Showers at Sunset. (hah)

A couple of weeks ago we had an amazing sunset coupled with rain. The result was a double rainbow, and all of the colors of the flowers and greenery were completely saturated and GORGEOUS.

Plus also, the clouds were super awesome.

I wish it would get sunny for reals though, and stop raining so frikkin much. I WANT A TAN.

Tulips are not my favorite (the name is just ugly) but they're pretty I guess.

Teenage Angst

Ah, the sweet sound of bitter silence.

The definition of angst is "A feeling of anxiety, apprehension, or insecurity" But according to Urban Dictionary, it's actually "About downtrodden teenagers thinking they're the only bloody people in the world who have it tough, and thinks that gives them an excuse to wallow in their own self-pity instead of actually doing something about their situation."

I concur.

And yet, it's just SO MUCH FUN to take pictures of. Also to look at pictures of said angst. 'Specially teenage angst.

People look pretty with a lil' angst slapped in there, amiright?

Kind of like a beaten angel.

I think I'm disturbed.

Tea

Baby died today.

She ran

Faster than God

A kettle by the teacups,

Black and ugly

Usurped.

Wind wasn't fast enough

Slowing down was thrown away

Rolling, black kettle, down the hills

Into the sea.

Wings were made for porcelain

Lacy bits that never helped at all

Salt was left before the rain

They killed the blind girl first.

"We started dying before the snow

And like the snow, continued to fall."

White Battle Cliffs

This is where the road ends
Butterflies and roses flee
Falling from the cold, velvet pavement
Where snow angels lie in wait for bodies.
Ribbons plunge from open turrets,
Streaming their silken red liquid
Singing hymns of death for weeping ears.
Fields of static, crying planet
Blazing moonlight, shadows of iron
The whispering cadence of marching, marching.
Slits of grey - Matters of angels
Diving patriarchs fluttering faster
With shreds of madness off glittering wings.
Tales are spinning, growing, screaming
The rose is crushed, petals decayed,
Calling a bird back from its overdue death.
An eclipse of castle, the prison revealed
Hands are yearning, frozen with pleas.
Sparkling jewels slip from the teeth,
Waves crash against wave, pound over rock
Splitting and Sculpting and Raising and Howling
Mind over matter... Butterflies soar
Melting white angels,
Catching the residue
This is where the road ends.


I wrote this a while ago, like half a year or so, and so far it's one of my deeper poems. So deep, in fact, that I have no idea as to what it means. My subconscious makes no sense to me. Trevor told me his idea as to what it means, and it made sense. He broke it down for me and everything :) I still have the facebook message haha I'm so stupid and creepy. Anyways. The fairytale/dark romance/religious stuff I didn't even catch on to until someone pointed them out to me. Now all I can envision when I read it is white angels with soot and blood covering them. I think I'm messed up a bit in the head though so it's okay.

New Inspiration

My new Book, of which I bought Saturday - one of the best days EVER spent with Trevor, music and bookstores that are faker Powell's... Needless to say, I love it. I'm going to say it anyways.

I love it. And it's TINY!!!! I saw it sitting there and I knew instantly that I had to have it. I did wait for the allotted half hour, just to make sure that I really really wanted it.

I did. Badly.

It's all non-tree, non-animal AWESOME. What it's made out of, no idea. Probably essence of SUPERFRIGGENCOOL

The binding kills me. It's so amazing. I just wish my handwriting didn't suck now.

The Damaged

Towards the end

The eye will fall upon us

And we will be in the calm

A breeze will blow

Replacing the jagged wind

And howling tempest.

Towards the end

Our eyes won't tear from the defeat

A lachrymal silence will sooth the dirt beneath my hand

And relinquish one drop shed from relief.

Towards the end

Oxygen will be enough to get us through the conclusion

I won't need to feel

And my heart will beat

Stronger than the flutter it is.

Towards the end

I can close my eyes without nightmares

A hand will brush the mud from my face

Soft as a god's

Soothing my brow

Sleep... Sleep

I'll count the strokes

And they'll be enough

Towards the end

No words will be there

Unutterable, faded serenity will blanket the field

Calming the blood and fear

Towards the end

All light will give out

Leaving us in the soft darkness

Blackness that is our surrender, my compliance

Towards the end

Our achievement will be the shrinking of the universe

Centering upon our souls

Our battered armour

Nothing else to think about

Nothing else at all

The end will come

The culmination before the nothingness

Tranquility in abandonment

Perfection in us,

The damaged.

GURPing it up

GURPS (Generic Universal RolePlaying System) is the best thing ever.

Way better than D&D in my opinion.

I like doing the unexpected and shaking things up.

Even though I almost die every time.

And that's my blurb on it :)

Subatomic

Here I am

Raising my tiny fists

Tiny fingers

A tiny lifeboat on the sea

The torpedoes start to burn

Whistling and screaming

They cover up the sobs

Little sobs

Blue and green flash

Rain makes rivers and men cry

Buckling to the knees

Snapped on the ground

Pain breaks the finest china

Behind the door is no guarantee

Salt so light the eddies can brush it away

Wash it away

Just hold onto the cloth

The shredded fibers cling

No white flag for you

This is my surrender

There's no more candles

And the darkness hurts

I can't go on without a guide

I'm so small

I'm too small.

quotes: part one

Quotes that will someday make it on my wall: Mistakes won't make God turn his back Maturity means knowing other people are real Why do you stay in prison when the door is wide open? People who keep a stiff upper lip find it damn hard to smile I am the final influencer of myself I'm in love! I'm in love and I don't care who knows it! Time flies when you're having fun and even when you're not... So you might as well have fun Sometimes when one person is missing the whole world feels depopulated Never mistake love for another with ignorance for yourself Big people talk about ideas, medium people talk about events, small people talk about other people If you can't win fair, just WIN Comparing yourself to others is as useless as counting the blades of grass in your neighbor's yard Do not satisfy your freedom with handouts Spiritual guidance cannot come from the spiritually weak God said help the poor AND the needy. These are often two sets of different people. Life begins when your comfort zone ends Quit what you don't love The proof of desire is in the pursuit You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams Paint a song You're responsible for your lack of faith Never regret anything because at the time, it was exactly what you wanted People do not cry because they are weak. People cry because they have been strong for too long Pretend to be sane Success come from a good backbone, not a good wishbone To conquer oneself is a greater task than to conquer others Live your life in a crescendo Life consists of two types of people: Those who act and those who are acted upon. Be in the first party. Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb up a tree, it will live its whole life thinking it is stupid. You make me happier than the ugly duckling was when he found out he was a swan you might think some of these are conflicting. i'm a conflicting person. i scored 15 blue, 10 red, 10 yellow, and 10 white on the color test. if you know what that is, then you know just how mixed-up a person i am. if not, eh.

Frustration

I'm really frustrated. This picture I took a while back describes my mood almost perfectly. The sticks do say "Miss U", just in case that's not completely obvious.

SUMMER

I just got insanely excited for summer. Summer. Summer summber sumtr smmre sumbtr - I'm that pumped.

I'm super thrilled for warm. And green. And grass that doesn't stick up at weird angles because it's been frozen a million times. And breezes while I'm sitting outside reading a book. Jumping on the trampoline and not freezing my feet off. Cherry Festival! That's an entire chapter in itself - hanging out and looking at the seedy booths, eating BananaKiwi shaved ice, sitting on a blanket doing nothing but being happy in the shade, going on the Zipper, being with a gaggle of friends at all times, holding hands with Trevor :) watching the performances at the bandshell, funnel cakes and sharing an onion blossom with whomever I can find. Concerts! And shorts! And ruffly skirts! Mmmmm, sandals... swimming in the canal and at the dam, floating the river, chilling in the park and swinging on the swings. Climbing trees and feeling vitamin D warming up my body. Tan legs... yessss... biking on the canal and working in the garden. Eating peas off the vine and as many raspberries as I want. Watermelon! BBQs! Outside movie parties and water fights and picnics and the Fair! Hanging out in the dusty barn with Krystal and the goats! Chillaxing with the pigs and giving them baths and feeding my shaved ice to the goat! Baby animals and BUNNY RABBITS!!!! Riding horses for hours, smelling like the sun and no more goose-bumps, no more frozen fingers and toes, swimming suits and sandy beach-towels hanging on the railing, watering the flowers and taking pictures with the sunset. Staying up late with endless sleepovers, writing poetry with my feet in the water, ponytails all the days with short-sleeved shirts and no more sweaters! I'm SO EXCITED!!!

B&W Photography

Black and white pictures are georgous.

They always have this mood to them that I couldn't capture using any other type of coloring. Sometimes, after converting them (this might sound creepy/weird) I just kinda sit there and go, "wow. That's pretty."

Like this one. So intimate and loving.

Mysterious. And the lines look great.

And even happy. I frikkin love B&W photography.

"Just a little F.Y.I"

People.
Everyone's afraid of things.
I'm a people.
And I'm afraid of everything. How pathetic is that?

So I know that this isn't my personal diary or anything (side note, I kept a diary for two years. Wrote in it every day. "Today I..." it was basically a travel log. I ended up thinking "Hey, this is bullcrap. I don't write about my feelings at all. I'm too afraid to. Maybe someone will read it." so I stopped, this January. Just quit, cold turkey. I picked it back up again a few weeks ago, wrote down the major events - like how my favoritest teacher ever, Ms. Lyons, is going to Korea next year to teach band there and abandoning me, or how I met Trevor and I'm so happy and the major conversations we've had - but then I realized I was doing the same thing. So again, it's over. But I had to vent somewhere, so I remembered my blog and picked it back up and brought it out of the closet. And now I'm writing my feelings, a bit at least, more than my Dear Diary ever saw, and it feels weird but nice. Even if no one reads it, it's like simply sending my regular human feelings out into the Interwebs to maybe be picked up by someone is calming down some of the inner issues. Although I don't ever talk about the major issues and never will, it's the thought that I could that matters) (That was the longest side note ever) and oh dear I can't even remember where I was going with this before I splattered my thoughts all over the screen. I think it had something to do with how much you (assuming you're even there) are going to read about my insecurities and fears. It'll probably get really depressing and boring. So, like me with my diary, feel free to quite cold turkey anytime. It won't bother me as long as you don't tell me about it.

Guard Dogs and Laser Beams

I have a wall. I like to think that it's a teeny tiny decorative wall with footholds for climbing over... But I don't think that's it.

Trains. Again. Sorry.

I've been told that this looks like a Levi Jeans advertisement. *sigh*

And that this looks like cover art for a band. Eh.

However, I love this one very much. Probably because it was candid. Candid photos that turn out well are my favoritest thing next to TunaPickleMustard sandwiches.

Trains.

I think I have an obsession with trains. And I haven't a clue why. Maybe it goes back to when I went to Europe and we traveled by train all the time. And there was nothing better than knowing that we had the entire train to ourselves for three hours and we could just sit in an empty, cushy compartment and play chess forever with the pastoral scenes edging by. Maybe it's because trains are the epitome of everything I love - comfort, travel, slower-paced, old-fashioned. Or maybe it's just because the Hogwarts Express is the bomb-diggedy.

They're amazing.

Everyone goes with trains. Or maybe it's Trains go with Everyone. They're beautiful, whatever it is.

Staying in the moment kills future ones.

So I'm not really that type of person that stays in the moment. Actually not at all. When people say, "I'll love you forever", or "No one's ever made me feel the way you make me feel", I always think "Yeah right. We'll part ways eventually. And someone's made you feel like this before."

And I'm tired of it. Can't I be a teenager and think about nothing but my boyfriend's arms around me? Can't I say "I'll love you forever" and not feel/know that I'm lying through my smiling teeth?

No. That's not me. Dangit.

me:part 1

Woah. Haven't been on here in a long long time. It's a bit desolate.

So I'm sitting here, trying to find the perfect way to end my paper for English so that I can be remembered as a "good kid, wrote good papers, got one here somewhere...", freaking inside about my F on the Biology test and equally freaked about the harder makeup test coming up and all the homework/studying I need to cram, reading people's blogs and getting angry that people are so open about everything on the Interwebs (Seriously... It's not your private diary) and mentally blowing up. All at the same time. Also, texting my boyfriend. But that doesn't count because it's not stressing me out. And then suddenly I just felt... lost I guess? Like nothing is me and I'm just going through the motions. Getting good grades because it's expected of me and I'm too afraid not to, too afraid to fail and not reach the bar my sister set, too afraid that my mom will be disappointed in me. All of the creative blogs that I'll never make, pictures I'll never take, and curfews that I'll never break. Because I'm too afraid of the consequences. I'm terrified of consequences. And I realize that I'm a hypocrite for spilling my guts, even though no one sees them, (because who'd read my blog, anyways?) when I say that it's annoying for others to do the same. At least I don't bash on people and give names, right? Right. I feel like I'll never do anything above mediocre. I'm a jaded realist. I'm not all the time, at least I don't act like it, but I know that relationships won't last forever, people talk about others behind their backs, war starts over stupid little things that murders and butchers thousands of people, and that ice-cream won't be there the next time you go to get it because someone else will already have devoured it. You know how girls act like little idiots so that men will puff out their chests, wrap their arms around them, and protect them even if they don't need to be protected? I used to think that was the stupidest thing in the entire world. I knew that I'd never need my Prince Charming to show up because he never would. But now that I have someone, I understand. I understand all the little infinite rules to twist a guy around your finger so that he won't leave you(luckily, I don't need to use them. I don't have the kind of guy that needs twisting). Falling down and being abandoned are two of the primal fears that everyone's born with, and I was lavishly gifted in the latter department. Falling down is terrifying; being abandoned by people is twenty million times scarier than that. Even if it's a social fall, I'd take that over being left alone. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm scared of everything, and I realize this in myself. I have dreams but I know they're just dreams. I build a wall around myself with sarcastic humor that doesn't let people get very close to me, because if they did they'd see me for the nobody that I am. And then I'd be alone.

this has taken a bizarre turn. it doesn't make sense. but, welcome to me. i'm a pessimistic, jaded realist who overthinks things, packaged in a weird little box with yellow sunshine painted over.