"It's okay." I dunno how many times I really say that in a day, but it's the one sentence I tend to say above all others. Anyday, everyday, for all sorts of reasons.
'I know this sucks, but can you cover for me..again?'
'I'm moving.'
'I'm only using you.'
'I talked shit about you, but I didn't mean it.'
'I know you wanted to do X but I want to do Y, so let's just do Y.'
'I really don't want anything to do with you anymore, no reason. just done.'
'I spilled bag milk all over the floor, will you clean it up for me so I can do other things to fuck up the store? Spill pretzel butter everywhere, perhaps?'
'I was never into you, I just led you on.'
'Oh, you aren't easy and willing to have sex with me when I snap my fingers? see ya!'
'Im going to borrow your favorite books and not worry about you missing them.'
etc. so on and so forth. It's getting re-fucking-diculous. But I always say, "no, no, it's okay." and usually with a big, fake smile so they know I mean it. *sigh*
I know..that it's my own fault. Trust me, I know. I just havnt had my kindness taken advantage of so frequently in such a short abount of time...ever. And by people I trust--I think that's the worst part of it..and the part that's bothering me so much.
People telling me that I should be more open and trusting..and then pulling the shit that they have been lately. Really!? Let me just raise a finger to those people (I think you can figure out which digit I'm refering to). I don't even have time for this. i have a book to finish and two finals to study for...and my eye keeps twitching.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Im not good at poetry
Drowning
When the boney branches of death
Grab at your clothes
And tear at your flesh
And force you to stare at your fate...
What would you do?
This is the memorial
This is the Premonition
Here, the dirty sidewalk
Is polluted, here they find
The chill of a body
Past dead
Life taken by its own hand.
Fear of Falling
Can we cross these unavoidable bridges?
Constructed of twine and splinters?
Will the path that stretches beyond fall from under us?
And if my fee t touch the ground that seems so far
Will I want to come back to the other side?
Will I need to?
We stand before a bridge
We hesitate before a bridge
Breathing cautiously
Brains cluttered with abstract fears. Woe!
Our gruff, raspy voices,
Our cries to each other
Are muffled and strangled
Like the dying victim
Or broken bodies behind iron bars
inside our hollow Torsos.
Wood without nails, Railing without safty, Bridge without structure.
When the boney branches of death
Grab at your clothes
And tear at your flesh
And force you to stare at your fate...
What would you do?
This is the memorial
This is the Premonition
Here, the dirty sidewalk
Is polluted, here they find
The chill of a body
Past dead
Life taken by its own hand.
Fear of Falling
Can we cross these unavoidable bridges?
Constructed of twine and splinters?
Will the path that stretches beyond fall from under us?
And if my fee t touch the ground that seems so far
Will I want to come back to the other side?
Will I need to?
We stand before a bridge
We hesitate before a bridge
Breathing cautiously
Brains cluttered with abstract fears. Woe!
Our gruff, raspy voices,
Our cries to each other
Are muffled and strangled
Like the dying victim
Or broken bodies behind iron bars
inside our hollow Torsos.
Wood without nails, Railing without safty, Bridge without structure.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Left turn on Salt Rock Road
Marissa propped her bare foot on the dash of her boyfriend’s dusty old Honda as we traveled on forested back roads. I leaned my head against the door frame, feeling the fresh, hot air whip my hair around my head. I turned to look at the other passenger in the back seat. Jessica sat solemnly next to me, her hands clasped in her lap. We both knew Marissa could blow up if Daniel said one wrong word. She sat in the passenger seat, foot on the dash, leaning her head on her forehead and breathing as if she was trying to hold back. She probably was.
I took out the wrinkled, coffee stained map of West Virginia out from under the passenger seat. I don’t know why. GPS is running perfectly and the sun is beginning to set so it’s hard to see all the lines of road and highway, I just like to guesstimate where we are and figure out the math to see how many hours it will take for us to get to our beach vacation, a break from work, school and all the bullshit that goes with them. Smoothing out the crinkles of the map takes up the only white noise left after the radio. I don’t really mind. Awkward silence is so frequent with Marissa and Daniel’s bickering, I’m sick of it.
“Christy, why did you even bring that map? I have GPS right here.” Daniel picks up his technological map to show me, as if I hadn’t any knowledge of its existence.
“I dunno… I like my map.” I smoothed out some more wrinkles, creating more crackling noise, for emphasis.
“GPS doesn’t lie…”
“Yes it does, and it does it in that stupid woman’s voice.” Marissa let out a small giggle, barely audible. We enjoy picking on Daniel.
“She doesn’t lie to me.”
“That’s cause you guys talk dirty to each other when no one else is in the car. You desperate little freak.” Marissa laughed out loud. I almost want to pat myself on the back for releasing all the tension withheld in the car. Marissa scoots up in her chair, sitting properly.
“Can we stop at a hotel or something? I don’t want to sleep in the car all night.” Jessica perks up at Marissa’s request. I don’t think she’s used to these mood swings between Marissa and Daniel yet. I go back to my map while they talk about it, marking on the corner more miles and time notes. I’m running out of room in this corner for my calculations.
“Son of a bitch…” Daniel flips his rear view mirror, shielding his eyes from the high beams coming in from behind us. I fold my map and put it away, unable to read it anymore due to the light depletion. I groan, knowing Daniel will get pissed and we’ll be back in the same situation I had just diffused.
“Just let them pass you…It’s probably just some hillbilly.”
“Yeah, well I can be a hillbilly too.” I can feel the engine growl as he presses his foot on the accelerator. Jessica leans forward and smacks Daniel’s shoulder.
“Quit driving like a retard! We’re gonna get in a wreck!” Daniel jerked forward, over reacting from Jessica’s smack. I turned around, trying to figure out what type of vehicle it was (a truck, maybe). All I can see are headlights. It speeds up and rides close.
“Son of a bitch!” Daniel speeds up even more. I hold my breath, fear creeping up my spine. I look back at the vehicle again; it’s still close, too close. The seatbelt locks as my body is pushed forward from the hit or their grill to the Honda’s bumper. “What the FUCK!?” The Honda’s head lights lit up the road, revealing a buck trying to run out from the vehicle’s path. I hear myself screaming.
~*~*~*~*~
I hear something, but can’t quite make it out. Everything seems fuzzy. I try to breathe, feeling an extreme pain course out from my right side. I move my hand down to the spot where it hurts most. There’s something jammed into my side. I choke back a sob, still too afraid to look at my torso which is pulsating with more pain each second. There’s mud on me, why am I on the ground? Screaming. My head is ringing, but there’s definitely someone screaming.
I open my eyes, looking for the source of the scream. The Honda is the first thing in my sight. The hood is crunched up and it’s on its side. Headlights are behind it. The same headlights from earlier. I look down at my side and let out a groan of pain; a giant shard of glass is lodged into me. I’m covered in blood, and dirt.
I turn over and crawl to the car, feeling the glass with every movement. My hands touch the roof of the car first and I prop myself on the crinkled metal of the hood. I see Daniel, sitting against the trunk of a tree. The left leg of his pants is stained red from his hip to his knee and his hands are behind his back. He’s screaming something, but I can’t make out the words; my head is still ringing. I follow his eyes and find someone leaning over Jessica or Marissa. I can’t tell which one it is from this distance. The road is still close. Where’s the ambulance? I look towards the headlights and see another standing figure.
It’s Jessica. I move around the hood, trying to get closer to figuring out what’s going on. The ringing fades as Daniel’s screaming gets louder. Something is really wrong. The truck begins to reverse. Jessica screams and begins to tear at her right wrist. I squint my eyes, trying to focus on her. She isn’t tearing at her wrist, but at rope tied around it. The truck goes into drive, moving past her and increasing the speed. A bundle of rope next to her begins to diminish as the truck moves farther away. I gasp, not believing what’s happening. Her arm jerks in the direction of the truck, almost in slow motion, followed by her body. Screaming again, but it’s different this time, more permanent. I cover my ears, trying to block the sound out any way I can and turn away from the road which has been freshly littered with my friend’s flesh.
“Chris, run!” I barely hear Daniel calling my name, but it snaps me out of my trance. I move my legs, feeling them weigh more than usual. The heaviness of my limbs making running almost impossible, but I move anyways. A gloved hand wraps itself around my arm. An adrenaline induced punch lands in the face of my assailant, except it isn’t his face. I turn my head, finding a white mask instead of a face. He doesn’t say anything, just groans and puts his hand to where my fist had struck. I try to keep running but my foot gets stuck on something, causing my fall.
I turn to see what I fell over and find myself looking at the empty eyes of the deer Daniel hit. Vomit rises up from my stomach as the gloved hands grab me, pulling me back towards Daniel and Marissa.
I took out the wrinkled, coffee stained map of West Virginia out from under the passenger seat. I don’t know why. GPS is running perfectly and the sun is beginning to set so it’s hard to see all the lines of road and highway, I just like to guesstimate where we are and figure out the math to see how many hours it will take for us to get to our beach vacation, a break from work, school and all the bullshit that goes with them. Smoothing out the crinkles of the map takes up the only white noise left after the radio. I don’t really mind. Awkward silence is so frequent with Marissa and Daniel’s bickering, I’m sick of it.
“Christy, why did you even bring that map? I have GPS right here.” Daniel picks up his technological map to show me, as if I hadn’t any knowledge of its existence.
“I dunno… I like my map.” I smoothed out some more wrinkles, creating more crackling noise, for emphasis.
“GPS doesn’t lie…”
“Yes it does, and it does it in that stupid woman’s voice.” Marissa let out a small giggle, barely audible. We enjoy picking on Daniel.
“She doesn’t lie to me.”
“That’s cause you guys talk dirty to each other when no one else is in the car. You desperate little freak.” Marissa laughed out loud. I almost want to pat myself on the back for releasing all the tension withheld in the car. Marissa scoots up in her chair, sitting properly.
“Can we stop at a hotel or something? I don’t want to sleep in the car all night.” Jessica perks up at Marissa’s request. I don’t think she’s used to these mood swings between Marissa and Daniel yet. I go back to my map while they talk about it, marking on the corner more miles and time notes. I’m running out of room in this corner for my calculations.
“Son of a bitch…” Daniel flips his rear view mirror, shielding his eyes from the high beams coming in from behind us. I fold my map and put it away, unable to read it anymore due to the light depletion. I groan, knowing Daniel will get pissed and we’ll be back in the same situation I had just diffused.
“Just let them pass you…It’s probably just some hillbilly.”
“Yeah, well I can be a hillbilly too.” I can feel the engine growl as he presses his foot on the accelerator. Jessica leans forward and smacks Daniel’s shoulder.
“Quit driving like a retard! We’re gonna get in a wreck!” Daniel jerked forward, over reacting from Jessica’s smack. I turned around, trying to figure out what type of vehicle it was (a truck, maybe). All I can see are headlights. It speeds up and rides close.
“Son of a bitch!” Daniel speeds up even more. I hold my breath, fear creeping up my spine. I look back at the vehicle again; it’s still close, too close. The seatbelt locks as my body is pushed forward from the hit or their grill to the Honda’s bumper. “What the FUCK!?” The Honda’s head lights lit up the road, revealing a buck trying to run out from the vehicle’s path. I hear myself screaming.
~*~*~*~*~
I hear something, but can’t quite make it out. Everything seems fuzzy. I try to breathe, feeling an extreme pain course out from my right side. I move my hand down to the spot where it hurts most. There’s something jammed into my side. I choke back a sob, still too afraid to look at my torso which is pulsating with more pain each second. There’s mud on me, why am I on the ground? Screaming. My head is ringing, but there’s definitely someone screaming.
I open my eyes, looking for the source of the scream. The Honda is the first thing in my sight. The hood is crunched up and it’s on its side. Headlights are behind it. The same headlights from earlier. I look down at my side and let out a groan of pain; a giant shard of glass is lodged into me. I’m covered in blood, and dirt.
I turn over and crawl to the car, feeling the glass with every movement. My hands touch the roof of the car first and I prop myself on the crinkled metal of the hood. I see Daniel, sitting against the trunk of a tree. The left leg of his pants is stained red from his hip to his knee and his hands are behind his back. He’s screaming something, but I can’t make out the words; my head is still ringing. I follow his eyes and find someone leaning over Jessica or Marissa. I can’t tell which one it is from this distance. The road is still close. Where’s the ambulance? I look towards the headlights and see another standing figure.
It’s Jessica. I move around the hood, trying to get closer to figuring out what’s going on. The ringing fades as Daniel’s screaming gets louder. Something is really wrong. The truck begins to reverse. Jessica screams and begins to tear at her right wrist. I squint my eyes, trying to focus on her. She isn’t tearing at her wrist, but at rope tied around it. The truck goes into drive, moving past her and increasing the speed. A bundle of rope next to her begins to diminish as the truck moves farther away. I gasp, not believing what’s happening. Her arm jerks in the direction of the truck, almost in slow motion, followed by her body. Screaming again, but it’s different this time, more permanent. I cover my ears, trying to block the sound out any way I can and turn away from the road which has been freshly littered with my friend’s flesh.
“Chris, run!” I barely hear Daniel calling my name, but it snaps me out of my trance. I move my legs, feeling them weigh more than usual. The heaviness of my limbs making running almost impossible, but I move anyways. A gloved hand wraps itself around my arm. An adrenaline induced punch lands in the face of my assailant, except it isn’t his face. I turn my head, finding a white mask instead of a face. He doesn’t say anything, just groans and puts his hand to where my fist had struck. I try to keep running but my foot gets stuck on something, causing my fall.
I turn to see what I fell over and find myself looking at the empty eyes of the deer Daniel hit. Vomit rises up from my stomach as the gloved hands grab me, pulling me back towards Daniel and Marissa.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
I'd like to stick an armadillo in a blender..
Sory if this like..pisses someone off. I cant remember who reads my blog and who doesnt, so Im wingin it! nom nom nom! oh and btw. I totally had pizza hut on saturday and it was almost orgaaasmic. jk. it wasnt orgasmic, but it was pretty damn good. and good golly gee willikers, the drama from that night helped create this piece fo shit!
“I’m not your girlfriend, so even if I had done something with him, you don’t have a reason to get pissed at me.” I pulled the zipper up on my coat so hard; I almost pulled the tab off. I just wanted to get to my car and go home and go to bed. Jerk, getting mad at me for hanging out with my guy friend. The strap of my raggedy, black tote bag started to fall from my shoulder. It matched my black coat and work pants which were also black. I felt like a part of team death squad.
I fumed. Nick had been trying to date me for about two months now, and the thought of it makes me want to kick a cat (I wouldn’t really do that). He’s always following me around and talking. Im usually trying to get away and zoning out. Blah. Wind picked up and a light snow began to fall, decorating my black attire with white flakes that look more like dandruff until they slowly melt and dissapear. I stopped next to the old, graffiti covered parking garage and glanced up at the clouds. Snow. I hate it. A figure on the garage wall caught my eye.
I couldn’t figure out what it was. A bird? No, it’s too big to be a bird; it isnt shaped like a cat. Oh my god. I pressed the ‘end’ button on my cell and dialed 911. My heart rate picked up. I could hear it in my ears as my stomach tightened. Please don’t let it be a person up there. The figure stood there, unmoving. The clouds of air coming from my warm breath came faster as my breath quickened.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The voice was a woman’s was nasally, like those stereotypical operator voices. My eyes didn’t move from the figure.
“Hello? I’m on the college campus by the parking garage. I think someone may be about to jump from it.” My voice shook as I talked to the voice on the other end.
“Remain calm, Ma’am. Can you give me a direct address?” The figure moved. I felt my insides tighten.
A scream, then a thud.
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you still there?” I dropped my phone. I kept my face turned up, afraid of what I was about to see, next to me on the sidewalk. My hand moved to my cheek to wipe away the blood. Blood? I looked at my hand—blood.
I turned my eyes down to the sidewalk first, and then turned my head. Blood. So much of it. I heard people screaming, shouting. Someone grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the bloody disarray of a body. It was a girl. It felt like I was falling. Then I heard another scream. Mine.
“I’m not your girlfriend, so even if I had done something with him, you don’t have a reason to get pissed at me.” I pulled the zipper up on my coat so hard; I almost pulled the tab off. I just wanted to get to my car and go home and go to bed. Jerk, getting mad at me for hanging out with my guy friend. The strap of my raggedy, black tote bag started to fall from my shoulder. It matched my black coat and work pants which were also black. I felt like a part of team death squad.
I fumed. Nick had been trying to date me for about two months now, and the thought of it makes me want to kick a cat (I wouldn’t really do that). He’s always following me around and talking. Im usually trying to get away and zoning out. Blah. Wind picked up and a light snow began to fall, decorating my black attire with white flakes that look more like dandruff until they slowly melt and dissapear. I stopped next to the old, graffiti covered parking garage and glanced up at the clouds. Snow. I hate it. A figure on the garage wall caught my eye.
I couldn’t figure out what it was. A bird? No, it’s too big to be a bird; it isnt shaped like a cat. Oh my god. I pressed the ‘end’ button on my cell and dialed 911. My heart rate picked up. I could hear it in my ears as my stomach tightened. Please don’t let it be a person up there. The figure stood there, unmoving. The clouds of air coming from my warm breath came faster as my breath quickened.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The voice was a woman’s was nasally, like those stereotypical operator voices. My eyes didn’t move from the figure.
“Hello? I’m on the college campus by the parking garage. I think someone may be about to jump from it.” My voice shook as I talked to the voice on the other end.
“Remain calm, Ma’am. Can you give me a direct address?” The figure moved. I felt my insides tighten.
A scream, then a thud.
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you still there?” I dropped my phone. I kept my face turned up, afraid of what I was about to see, next to me on the sidewalk. My hand moved to my cheek to wipe away the blood. Blood? I looked at my hand—blood.
I turned my eyes down to the sidewalk first, and then turned my head. Blood. So much of it. I heard people screaming, shouting. Someone grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the bloody disarray of a body. It was a girl. It felt like I was falling. Then I heard another scream. Mine.
Friday, October 2, 2009
I'm already going; I'm already gone...you'll never find me
I know this is weird. It was a project for my writing class. I've been trying to write about the situation that caused my last post since..sunday..but It's proving difficult. This may be as close as you'll get to figuring it out (good fucking luck) until I'm ready.
oh, and if you're reading this--it totally isnt about you, so dont freak out or get pissed at me thinkin Im calling you a boy...you're a man.. unless you have a vah-guy-nah..cause then you're a chick.. aaaanywhooo
Boys. Boys put on a show. Boys put on a bluff. Clever boys don’t get caught. Boys have an agenda. Boys busy themselves with plots. Clever boys stick to their plans. Boys create gutsy within themselves. Boys play games. Boys toy with emotions. Boys make promises they cannot keep. Boys hurt other people. Hurtful boys have trouble growing into men. Boys scare. Two boys, one with the intention of hurting someone; the other with the intention of having someone. Boys are selfish. One boy inflicts pain. Boys leave scars. One boy believes he is helping. A boy only increases the pain. Boys never cease. Boys always try to get what they want. Selfish boys. Boys tear things apart, ripping the pieces into two halves that will never make a whole again. Boys reward themselves. Boys talk of their triumphs. The boys exaggerate their story, trying to form themselves into men with their words. Boys have moments of no control. Uncontrolled boys allow themselves to commit acts they may regret later. Boys touch, grope, and feel their way into situations where they become uncontrolled boys. Boys are dumb. Boys listen when you tell what they want to hear. Boys are gullible; if you say what they want to hear, they believe it. Boys believe you when you say it’s okay. Boys are irresponsible. Boys possess things in which they cannot possibly care for in the correct way. Boys break.
oh, and if you're reading this--it totally isnt about you, so dont freak out or get pissed at me thinkin Im calling you a boy...you're a man.. unless you have a vah-guy-nah..cause then you're a chick.. aaaanywhooo
Boys. Boys put on a show. Boys put on a bluff. Clever boys don’t get caught. Boys have an agenda. Boys busy themselves with plots. Clever boys stick to their plans. Boys create gutsy within themselves. Boys play games. Boys toy with emotions. Boys make promises they cannot keep. Boys hurt other people. Hurtful boys have trouble growing into men. Boys scare. Two boys, one with the intention of hurting someone; the other with the intention of having someone. Boys are selfish. One boy inflicts pain. Boys leave scars. One boy believes he is helping. A boy only increases the pain. Boys never cease. Boys always try to get what they want. Selfish boys. Boys tear things apart, ripping the pieces into two halves that will never make a whole again. Boys reward themselves. Boys talk of their triumphs. The boys exaggerate their story, trying to form themselves into men with their words. Boys have moments of no control. Uncontrolled boys allow themselves to commit acts they may regret later. Boys touch, grope, and feel their way into situations where they become uncontrolled boys. Boys are dumb. Boys listen when you tell what they want to hear. Boys are gullible; if you say what they want to hear, they believe it. Boys believe you when you say it’s okay. Boys are irresponsible. Boys possess things in which they cannot possibly care for in the correct way. Boys break.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Justice! Just us? Just me without you.
Have you ever had an experience and you honestly need to talk to someone? It sits inside you and festers, reaching it's arms out and expanding through your organs, taking over your blood stream until it consumes you. A hollow existence. You try to tell someone, but it's taken over your limbs, starting with your fingers so that you can't communicate in any way physical, then it takes your facial muscles, striking you useless for anything even remotely close for the telling of important things. You end up sitting alone, feeling your body reject yourself, then wake up hours later feeling sore and sick.
Then you find that the person who caused this travesty upon you is conversing about it to his friends. They consume each word as if it were a rare honey only to be given to the worthy, and then purge everything to the next person who comes into their sight, construing the plot, dramatizing the characters, turning protagonist and antagonist around. All the meanwhile, the person who begun this cycle of lies is sitting back, watching his spider web grow string by sticky string. And the person who's life is ultimately changed? Still sitting in the bedroom with the door locked and wishing their fingers would just type in the right consonants and vowels to let that one person know they want help.
Then you find that the person who caused this travesty upon you is conversing about it to his friends. They consume each word as if it were a rare honey only to be given to the worthy, and then purge everything to the next person who comes into their sight, construing the plot, dramatizing the characters, turning protagonist and antagonist around. All the meanwhile, the person who begun this cycle of lies is sitting back, watching his spider web grow string by sticky string. And the person who's life is ultimately changed? Still sitting in the bedroom with the door locked and wishing their fingers would just type in the right consonants and vowels to let that one person know they want help.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sucking at the sucky suck fest!
oooh mai gawd someone bomb my baaank. they screwed me overrrr. Fuckinnn first time I ever spend money on ME. and they're all "pay us $60!!!" yaaaay! cause I specifically asked them if I would get charged for spending out of savings. oh nooo miss carter no noooo, neverr. WHAT? you spent out of savings! pay up, bitch!
That's it. I fuckin quit!
And of course the day Im running around like a gulah monster (code for no make up) all my fucking friends see me! what the fuck! and my arm bruised from giving blood. never happened before.
but I lost another size in jeans. fuckin right! Im hot and I rock.
That's it. I fuckin quit!
And of course the day Im running around like a gulah monster (code for no make up) all my fucking friends see me! what the fuck! and my arm bruised from giving blood. never happened before.
but I lost another size in jeans. fuckin right! Im hot and I rock.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
doth thou prefer the -astic? I do.
So I've begun to realize how much I've changed in the course of two months. Actually, I think this began four months ago, when I became disgusted with the person I had been forged into. I can even quote a friend saying how I've "come out of my shell." I've become a lot happier and more outgoing, and I have to say that I blame west side sheetz. If I weren't working there, I would still be isolated from society as I had been for the last two years of my existence.
Although, I do seem to fall back into my previous state of mind from time to time. Blah. Let’s put it this way—if I were schizophrenic, there would be Cait and Caitlin. Caitlin is slooowly leaving, with her timid exterior and terrified-of-everything composure. Good riddance. Wave goodbye!!
I know this is coming out weird, and I don’t mean it to, but I like the new me. I enjoy not being scared of everything, constantly worrying about trifle experiences. III can go into Victoria Secrets. Talk about bravery.
…okay it’s not that brave, but I never could muster up enough bravado to go in there.
And I’m going to end it on that awkward note, because! I had to get it out, annnnd I have to read more Jane Eyre.
Although, I do seem to fall back into my previous state of mind from time to time. Blah. Let’s put it this way—if I were schizophrenic, there would be Cait and Caitlin. Caitlin is slooowly leaving, with her timid exterior and terrified-of-everything composure. Good riddance. Wave goodbye!!
I know this is coming out weird, and I don’t mean it to, but I like the new me. I enjoy not being scared of everything, constantly worrying about trifle experiences. III can go into Victoria Secrets. Talk about bravery.
…okay it’s not that brave, but I never could muster up enough bravado to go in there.
And I’m going to end it on that awkward note, because! I had to get it out, annnnd I have to read more Jane Eyre.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
How can you act this way when we've barely been introduced?
Okay, I'm starting to feel a smidge put off. I am in dire need of comedy, relaxation and stress relief. I need a good cry, but I’m not going to because that’s fuckin’ lame. SO!! I think I’m gonna go get me something with espresso, make sure my sick friends are feeling okay, and then go see what John is up to, because he rocks me super hardcore nonstop à Woo!! Might chill out with Amber/Billy as well. Cause they’re prettah fun, and I've begun to have a life.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
The more you know!
I used to want to be an artist. It's almost funny now. I worked diligently on all sorts of art work, and now I only have three pieces that I can say I truly like. I can't even produce this caliber of art anymore. Not that these are amazing, just that I've lost my touch and now produce mere stick figures with comical speech bubbles. I'm not amazingly sad about this ordeal, though--Just pondering the possibilities I would have been introduced to, had I stayed my course in the art field.
So yeah, Cait tid-bits. enjoy..
So yeah, Cait tid-bits. enjoy..
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Have you the brain worms!?
The sun falls into the earth. Colors fill my eyes and force me to look away from the orb of fire. The heat strokes my skin, whispering through my hair, before the last rays of light kiss the sky. Once enveloped with warmth, I am left abandoned.
yeah..
So today was fun, walking around campus like a zombie all day. Thank you, josh. So what was the highlight of my day? Prooobably becoming physically ill by watching the birthing process in Child Psychology..while texting Ryan (from work) about it. I think I scarred that poor kid for life. I kinda hope I did, because that was a horrible thing to go through alone.
III have boring poetry to read!! So here are the links I promised. Enjoy them.
Giraffe death
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCoaBN6iOu0
Asshat!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vv1ZMUyM0IM
III have boring poetry to read!! So here are the links I promised. Enjoy them.
Giraffe death
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCoaBN6iOu0
Asshat!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vv1ZMUyM0IM
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Pathetic, Lame, etc.
Okay, I'm still pretty nervous to post this (butterflies n everything), so don't make fun of me.
I don't really know what else to say...so here it is...
Consolations after uncontrolled emotions
He moves diligently to assure everything is in order
His eyes glance up to meet mine
The look holds for a second, giving intimacy unbeknownst to others
There are large, brown boxes scattered on the floor
They beckon to be opened and rummaged through
So their hidden treasures may be correctly placed and organized
Their sparse knowledge of any emotion profounds
And I feel the urge to dutifully pilfer through the cardboard cubes
Anything to stay in this moment
A kitten unknowingly pounces on a snake,
Like the creeping fear of an untold prophecy
His laugh shakes me from my daze
The simplicity of being together--just opening boxes,
Gives me something to hope for...
Okay, you can point and laugh now. I'm going to go be dramatic…
I don't really know what else to say...so here it is...
Consolations after uncontrolled emotions
He moves diligently to assure everything is in order
His eyes glance up to meet mine
The look holds for a second, giving intimacy unbeknownst to others
There are large, brown boxes scattered on the floor
They beckon to be opened and rummaged through
So their hidden treasures may be correctly placed and organized
Their sparse knowledge of any emotion profounds
And I feel the urge to dutifully pilfer through the cardboard cubes
Anything to stay in this moment
A kitten unknowingly pounces on a snake,
Like the creeping fear of an untold prophecy
His laugh shakes me from my daze
The simplicity of being together--just opening boxes,
Gives me something to hope for...
Okay, you can point and laugh now. I'm going to go be dramatic…
Friday, September 4, 2009
oh what musings..
I'm going to begin by blaming Josh for this blog. For those who don't know Josh--sucks to be you, man. I was going to use my old journal, which was shared with another, but I couldn't bring myself to erase our messages of love/distrust (depending on how the day was going) of the world.
Just a word of warning--This will be filled with angry posts. I'm good for those...and when I write in anger, my grammar skill depletes. Just muscle through it, you might get a laugh.
All day, I've been trying to pump myself up enough to actually post some writing on here. As of right now, I can't admit to that working, so you'll have to wait for my writing because I'm a big baby.
Note to self--expired white out acts more like melted marshmallow. Throw away white out.
Just a word of warning--This will be filled with angry posts. I'm good for those...and when I write in anger, my grammar skill depletes. Just muscle through it, you might get a laugh.
All day, I've been trying to pump myself up enough to actually post some writing on here. As of right now, I can't admit to that working, so you'll have to wait for my writing because I'm a big baby.
Note to self--expired white out acts more like melted marshmallow. Throw away white out.
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