Monday, December 27, 2010

Sorry I haven't posted over the past week. Christmas and busy shit and whatnot...

Anywho, I hope everyone had a nice holiday :) It snowed a TON yesterday over where I live, so I've pretty much been stuck at home, my day split between playing Super Mario Brothers Wii and rearranging my bedroom.

THE STORY. I shall continue.

So I don't know if it was the lack of proper lighting that made him woozy, or the absence of any other upperclassmen boys to call him out for showing any sort of emotion, or maybe he just really wanted to vent, but Adam decided to tell the female half of the girl's indoor track team the story of his first love.

I was shamelessly eavesdropping on his conversation with some other girls in the back of the bus, when the subject came up about their said "love lives." The teenage girl in me eats that stuff up, so I leaned in closer.

"So, what is the deal with you and your girlfriend?"

"I...well... let me tell you a story," he said loudly, and it soon came to his attention that half of the bus was listening. Instead of hushing to a whisper, he said loudly again, "alright, I guess I'll just give all you guys a nice piece of the story of my life." A few girls filled the vacant seats close to him, discovery of their eavesdropping no longer a concern.

"So, it all started out freshman year. I was dating a few people here and there, yeah, but I didn't have a legitimate girlfriend, you know? So, I asked Kate out around the middle of freshman year. We dated for like, two weeks-- not even. And then she goes and decides to go for my fucking best friend, Josh. But I'm like, whatever, you're fat." He laughs nervously. "But anyway, we got back together after that didn't work out. And, like, four months into it, it was seriously the best thing ever. It was pretty much the end of freshman year, so we were pretty comfortable around each other, ya know? But she moved sophomore year, and that really fucked things up. She was about an hour away from where me, and it really sucked. But I went to see her every Saturday, and it really was, I'm not even joking, the best fucking thing. It was really nice, because it was like, every Saturday, all day Saturday, and we did a lot of fun things like go to New York and whatever, and it was just really great.

"But ya know, thing really started going fucking downhill. She became friends with this bitch, Michelle, and she just, ugh. She really changed her. I don't know, it's just-- I started talking to this freshman, Erin. And I felt bad for her because she was a freshman and all and I guess she didn't know that many people. So one day Kate just goes and texts her and is like, stay away from my boyfriend. So I had to go and sit her down and tell her that she seriously can't do something like that again. Seriously, it just really pissed me off. I told her that she really needed to change, or else things just wouldn't work out......."

So basically, she was a huge bitch to him, he told us that she cheated on him (disapproving feedback ensued), he cheated on her (more disapproving feedback ensued) and a load of other drama that was actually really interesting to hear about. No one's ever personally given me a full look into such an important relationship of theirs, and I felt sort of privileged. He even told us about how she wanted to have sex and he turned her down, and how he spent an entire day crying in his room, and how sometimes all he wanted to do was have a good snuggle.

He couldn't really decide upon an ideal conclusion, so he told us, "you know, your first love sucks. It was pretty much the best and worst part of my life. I changed a lot, you know? Everything's sort of different."

As the bus pulled into our school's driveway, he proceeded to explain to us a complicated analogy involving him being a cheetah and all of the girls on the track team being gazelles--I don't know. But whatever he said gave the girls on the bus hope that they would be the next gazelle of choice. To which I may or may not have fallen victim at the time...

And now, half of the girl's indoor track team is in love with him. I'm bent on it being an evil master plot of his that the other girls don't seem to notice or care about. Whatever his endeavor, it's working. And now the track team has turned to madness.

But really, how do boys do that? Make an entire team of girls fall head over heels for them in the matter of a few days?

It's madness, I tell you.


Sunday, December 19, 2010

I have been turning over last night in my head all day.

Basically, in the back of a dimly-lit clattering school bus, a select few from the indoor track team were granted a privileged glimpse into the heart of a 16-year-old boy.*

Well, now that I look back at that combination of words, It sounds weirder than it actually was. But here was what went down:

Yesterday, I woke up at 6:30 to go to a track meet that I only half wanted to go to. Despite the glorified campus quality (it was at Yale... yes, that Yale), the air was dry and the facility was old and I was halfway to a panic attack with all of the nervousness building up in my chest. It all went alright. I half-slept on people's track bags in-between races and gorged myself with salty Ritz Crackers.
I mostly had a lot of time to think: I calculated that I needed to run 50 second laps to get a 6:40 mile, precisely what we would be doing at a certain time if it were a school day, if that cute blond guy charging his cell phone was single, exactly how much the banked track was affecting our running, etc.
But we finally gathered up our bags after idling for nearly nine hours (with a collective eight minutes of running). We meandered with a pissed-off coach for about 20 minutes on the dark, cold campus, searching hopelessly for a bus. We finally found it, crawled on and hugged ourselves in the faux-leather, duct-tape repaired seats.

*Some of my words may or may not have been half-borrowed and rearranged to fit the situation from The Great Gatsby. Well, can you blame me? Fitzgerald has a rather seductive way with words.

Are you noticing how much fun I'm having writing this like a narrative? :)

I'll continue this story later. Hold tight until then, because I know that this is terribly exciting for you.

Two Door Cinema Club - "Something Good Can Work"

[I love this. I love this. I FUCKING LOVE THIS.]


Thursday, December 9, 2010

I like going to bed at night.

It means that I can read good books and get warm under my comforter and not be nervous and think about everything and go to sleep and dream good dreams.




Friday, December 3, 2010

#4: 10 places you would like to visit.

1. Anywhere new that has nice people and good vibes.
2. Anywhere Cameron Leahy is.
3. Disneyland (good vibes there, but perhaps the tourists could be a bit nicer...)
4. Somewhere abandoned.
5. Australia. Mostly for the accents.
6. A museum.
7. Warped tour. Right now, please.
8. The North Pole. Exactly as The Polar Express depicts it.
9. One of Jay Gatsby's parties.
10. Saint Lucia.

#5: Favorite memory from childhood.

Overall, I had a pretty great childhood. Since there was a vast amount of explorable woods and a little creek for salamander-catching behind my old house, life was pretty much wonderful for an outdoorsy 5-year-old like me.

I recall:

-sprinting down my shaded road with the trees hanging over it like a tunnel and telling my dad that I want to be a runner when I grow up.
-wearing my watermelon shirt and matching pants when I first learned how to ride a bike.
-falling off that same bike when I first got the training wheels taken off and my mom giving me lemon sherbet.
-watching hours upon hours of mindless cartoons and the fact that you had to turn the channel up and down so the screen wasn't fuzzy
-honeysuckles faithfully blooming on my birthday and how my parents hired a pony for my fifth birthday party.
-when it would rain really hard my front yard would fill up like a pool and I wished that I could swim in it.
-doing ballet and jumping over pretend puddles and getting really bored and looking out the window and wishing that I could go outside.
-one day when it snowed so hard that the Burning Bush in my front yard's branches bent over from the weight of the snow and it made an igloo that I could go inside.

So yeah, I had a lot of good times.

#6: Five favorite songs.

-Not a Second to Waste
-The First Single
-Planes, Oceans and Symphonies
-I'm Made of Wax, Larry, What Are You Made Of?

Considering that I have song recommendations in every one of my posts, I think I'll do my five favorite albums, as well (in no particular order).

-Aim and Ignite
-The Everglow
-Wincing the Night Away
and my first favorite album,
-Boys Like Girls

Hey, this is actually pretty fun :)


Monday, November 29, 2010

It's just not night.

It's too fork. It's too wall.
It's much more bat than it is ball.
The skin side soft, the dog hide luck.
An analogy in pick hand, it's negatively duck.
Too many spies, yet not enough hashes.
Crinkling, sinking, frantic splashes.
It can't be won, it's much too gate.
Yet he might snatch the crane if it hadn't come straight.


Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Do I dare to this 30-day thing?

Do I really?

Well, why not.

I'm not going to spam you guys and do it by day, but rather cluster 'em together, posting them whenever I want to. :)


#1 A picture of yourself and 10 facts.

(See the excessive overexposure? Can you say "glorified"? )

1. Have you noticed that I'm trying to refrain from swearing all the time? It's kind of a dirty habit.
2. I went home early from school today. And got to take a 4-hour nap.
3. I drink straight out of the carton when no one's looking. Yum.
4. I have a big scar on the right side of my face under my eye. I don't even remember getting it, but my dad told me that when I was two years old I fell off of a chair and cut my face on the cup that I was holding.
5. Life is good.
6. I spend too much time on the internet. So much that I concern myself.
7. I'm willing to do a lot of stupid things. And that concerns me as well.
8. I'm not as shy as I used to be. I don't know what happened.
9. I like people boys who have big teeth. And nice hair.
10. You know what's delicious? Raspberry sherbet.

#2 How you got your blog name.

I like the word "cerulean" and "cerulean skies" is an alliteration. Which is also something that I like.

There's not much more to it.

#3 Hometown location and facts.

As awesome as you guys are, there's no way that I'm going to tell you where I live.

But I'll give some facts.

- Farms and churches. That's about it.
- The population is about 7,500
- I live next to a Christmas Tree Farm. In approximately 3 days, people are going to come from all over and clog up my street with their silver minivans.
- It's made up of 95% white people. Really. You look at a pie graph of ethnicities and it's ridiculous.
- We have to go to neighboring towns to find something to do.
- Precisely because it's so boring, a lot of the rich white teenagers here are whiny and smoke weed to pass the time.
- It's a town we love to hate.

Alright, I won't torture you guys any more today.

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Sunday, November 21, 2010

I've decided that when I grow up I want to be an urban explorer.

I could find the beauty and fascination in the places that people no longer find useful or interesting or financially able to sustain. Nearly frozen in time, with nothing but a fine layer of dust and decay to remind explorers otherwise.

I couldn't think of a better adventure to go on with somebody.

Broken Bells - "Sailing to Nowhere"

[James Mercer is my hero. Check out this LP in its entirety.]


Wednesday, November 17, 2010

I call this one '"Blazed Caterpillar"

Of course I pay attention in school.

Why on earth would you think otherwise?

A Day to Remember - "This is the House that Doubt Built"



Monday, November 15, 2010

On my bedroom wall--hidden among hundreds of magazine clippings, idioms, developed film rolls, stickers, and drawings—is a phrase that I had clipped out from a magazine I don’t remember the name of.
What separates us from the animals?
It reads in all capital letters, making it look as if the author of the article was either desperately begging the question to all of humankind or knew precisely what he was talking about. No matter if it was either the latter or the former, I regret not even looking at the article long enough to ever find out what it meant. Because now as it sticks--magic-taped--to my purple wall, I realize that I’ve never given it more than a moment’s thought. I originally brushed it off as a nice combination of words—something I could ponder later if I really wanted to. But honestly...
What does separate us from the animals?

Radiohead - "Fake Plastic Trees"

(I'm not really an avid Radiohead listener, but I've really started to like this song. I have to thank Christopher for the recommendation... he has legitimate good music taste, something of which I only pretend to have...)


Thursday, November 11, 2010

I officially have a pen pal.

Two letters back and forth, it's official.

Her name is Chanel and she's eight years my senior and lives in Southern California and likes bad words and good music. Like me.

Sorry if I'm kind of writing in a poem form.

I just wrote a poem for my college writing class



sort of in a



With strange line breaks and all.

I used to have a pen pal when I was in third grade. I remember that it was a boy from Ireland and our typing class contacted the school through email. Only I couldn't type very well and I never got to say much.

I was very surprised that he could type so much for a boy who went to school in a cobblestone schoolhouse with a roof made of grass and rolling hills and stone walls in all directions and the occasional sheep.

I wonder if he remembers having an American pen-pal in third grade.


Thursday, November 4, 2010

a low hum
insides quiver gelatinously
as each stroke materializes
with a quick strike from a stick of ebony
yes mistakes
"no mistakes"
but mistakes are made anyway
a piece of rebellious hair
sticks up in back
the twisting of a pale earlobe
the sucking of a pink lip
you've come to love
a popped vessel in an eye
branches out like a bloody tree
or its roots
or freshly oxygen-pumped veins
an imperfect duplicate slowly emerges
making something from nothing
with four senses omitted
the eyes are pleased
you are pleased


Is "gelatinously" a word?
It should be.

My mom checked out a college guide for me from the library. She's supposed to return it today and I've hardly looked at it.
It makes me nervous.

It's really beautiful outside. Gloomy and gray and windy and dark is the best type of weather.

Random thoughts aside, I hope you enjoyed my poem.

Yesterday I "skipped" my x-period club (don't ask... my school's weird) to goof off in the art room with Mike and his friends. I half-pretended that I didn't know that Alex Sherman spent his x-period in the art room as well. I felt my stomach tighten when he came in the room anyway. So I did what any other teenager with a crush would do-- I creepily observed him as he drew.

He had a very loose drawing style. Chaotic and wonderful and perfect at the same time.

Later in college writing Mr. Torres told us to write a poem about a theme that we've already done or something -- but I didn't feel like doing that. So I wrote about being a creep and how I drew Alex Sherman as he drew his skeleton instead.

I wonder if he noticed.

Maybe not. He left before I could even finish his hair.

You know what would be awesome?
If one day I went up to him and just started talking to him.
I already promised myself that I would before he graduated at the end of the year.
It's a nice idea.
DAMN, he's cute.

Making April - "Roses and Butterflies"

[I really love this song and wish Mack had told me about it sooner! :p I've been in a piano-rock-type mood lately, anyways :) ]


Thursday, October 28, 2010


I know I been kind of putting this off for a while, but I've been debating how to go about my self-made ordeal.

You see, this is my 100th post on this blog. I get overly-sentimental with things like this, and I had no idea how to go about in recognition. I know this blog probably isn't much to you guys, but this little low-traffic URL is a lot to me. [I would probably insert an analogy about height charts here, but I think that I've already used that one.] I started it originally a little after the beginning of freshman year, abandoned it for nine months and picked it back up again. This is probably the time in my life that I'm most prone to change in myself, easily affected by the things and people around me. Ideas plant in my head like little seeds, tangling and twisting in the catacombs of my mind to soon become an actual part of it. This blog pretty much allows me to organize those ideas and record my silly anecdotes that I'll always want to remember, for the purpose of later getting all teary eyed over the Way that Things Used to Be.

So, in honor of the passing of time and its affect on all of us, I have decided to share excerpts from my 6th and 7th grade "journal". Try not to laugh. Please. (Just click on the image to make it bigger. Adur.)

I was so obsessed with things, and even more so things that didn't matter at all. And I actually used abbreviations in written documents. I don't even think that's allowed.

Such a middle-schooler. You know how it is.

And this was something I wrote just the other day when I was feeling "creative". You can snicker at my shitty handwriting if you really must:

And these are some pictures that I took with that disposable camera that I found:

This was taken in an abandoned house that me and my dad found:

I have a whole rant planned to be focused on abandoned houses, don't you worry.

And to conclude this 100th post, I have a picture of a beautiful fish that I drew on the corner of my World Geography exam study guide:

I feel like I could make this post... I don't know... more characterized by eloquent vocabulary and sentence structure to demonstrate my growth as a writer.

Or something.

But I'm not feeling it.


I love all 50 of you for tolerating me this whole time. :]

Stay fresh. Stay impressionable, keep changing.


Thursday, October 14, 2010

I don't think that I've been in such a happy state of mind since the innocuous years of my childhood.

It seems like for so long I had allowed the nastiest human emotions and character traits to harbor in my chest: self-pity, desire, yearning, laziness, embarrassment, overwhelming stress, shyness, anger... and I made the mistake of giving into them.

It's so easy to just conjure up a principle or two and stick to them: don't eat meat, run everyday, remember that all people are good unless mislead (in my opinion, anyway), remember that all people feel the same emotions that you do, take a deep breath when you feel like you're about to blow your top, stop wanting so many things.

God, I'm practically like Gandhi.

But really, I think that's why I'm so happy. I finally let go of those stupid emotions that have been setting me back, and I've never felt better. Life has been wonderful, and I'm so glad that I'm out of that depressing rut that I was in for most of last year. And to think that all I needed was a change of mind. I hope it lasts.

[aiight homeboys, philosophical moment over]

This is my 99th post... any suggestions for the 100th?

Ellie Goulding - "Starry Eyed (Dubstep Remix)"

[Dubstep is my latest kick. It's harder than hardcore, hah.]


Thursday, October 7, 2010

People like to live.
People don't like to die.
People like to be happy but
People aren't willing to cry.

A Day to Remember - "All I Want"



Wednesday, October 6, 2010

To everyone listening:

My apologies for the shock, especially to my family and close friends. I know that feeling of tightness in your chest that forms when you hear of the death of someone that you were relatively close to, especially if his or her time came early in life and without warning. I know that losing something so quickly is one of the worst feelings in the world, but I truly hope you realize why I didn’t tell you sooner.
I mean, it seems logical that I would tell everyone that I knew. I would get the first hand at everything. No one would dare to snicker in my direction if I tripped on a stray shoelace in the hallway, and no one would even imagine defying my opinion. That nagging thought would tug in the back of their minds each time I came up in conversation, or if I was given a passing glance. That poor girl only has a year to live. They would have no choice but to watch me deteriorate in front of their very eyes, that fateful day coming nearer and nearer. That one little bit of knowledge could give me so much power.
Where would this power come from? People’s consciousness? I don’t think that I would only be given such a power because I was mortal, but I would just be the one “fortunate” enough to acquire my expiration date a year in advance. If everyone else could easily die tomorrow, why should I be treated differently just because I knew? After considering this, I kept the news to myself, trying my hardest to bite back my tongue whenever something didn't go my way.
Instead, I did as any one else would do in their anticipated last year of life. I got myself out there and seized the day. “[I was] not coy, but used [my] time.” I ignored the annoying figurative voice in the back of my head. It could no longer make the argument that I had so much longer to live, and that I might as well do what is easiest and most risk-free. I could understand that if human beings had forever, then “this coyness… [would be] no crime.” But would humans really get anything done if we had an eternity? We are mortal for a reason: to get out there and happily do all that we are capable of-- bearing sadness so we can know happiness, knowing gruesome things so that we can know the beautiful things.
Where to start? The very moment I discovered that I had just a year (the method in which I won’t tell you --you wouldn’t believe me), my first instinct was to drop out of high school. I was barely two weeks into my junior year, and each time over the summer that some adult friend of my parents asked me which grade I was going into, “ohh man, that year is hard,” was the average response I got after I’d bluntly say “junior”.
If I dropped out of school, I could pursue the dreams of mine whose annual salaries would hardly be able to support the average low-maintenance person living on their own. I could get a book published, I could become an amateur photographer, I could go to Australia and do nothing productive, or I could write poems in my journal all day. Heck, a year would give me just enough time to quickly fall in love and get married and have a baby. I could have all of the perks of growing up without actually being given the long-term responsibilities of an adult.
But I couldn’t just drop out of school. School isn’t just a place of academics, but a sort of forum, a center full of young individuals around the same age group as myself. It’s where my dearest friends are, and it’s where I get the pleasure of being in their company each day. So, because of my dear friends, I gritted my teeth and weathered my way through junior year: the SATs, the term papers, the stressful track meets, the vexatious people – everything.
I’m not saying that junior year was relatively unpleasant-- it was actually quite the opposite. I might even go as far as to say that it was the best year of my life, even better than the innocuous time in which I was a drippy-nosed, responsibility-free kindergartner. For once in my life, I actually got out there and lived. Sure, I did some stupid stuff. I woke up at four AM one morning and dared to drive around the town in my family station wagon, despite the fact that I had a minimal amount of driving experience. I rolled down the windows and smelled nothing but the cool smell of early summer nights, feeling and hearing nothing but the strong wind against my warm cheeks. I smoked pot with friends, I tried a Twinkie for the first time, I dared to defy my strongly opinionated teacher in a heated discussion, I asked the boy I had been admiring from afar for over a year to prom (he said yes! I almost hated myself for not talking to him earlier), I took as many writing and photography classes as my schedule would allow, I tried skateboarding (I now know that I definitely don’t have a knack for it), I won three 400-meter races in track, I snuck out to go see my favorite band in concert, I spent my $7,000 worth of savings on things that I had always wanted, I made so many wonderful friends, and I only managed to catch up on sleep on those precious Sunday afternoons.
During this whole time that I was out knowingly living the last year of my life, no one would have ever suspected it. I think that most people just thought that I had finally “come out of my shell.” To everyone, I was just another outgoing teenager having the time of my life. My sole regret was that wouldn’t have had the courage to do so earlier without being given a time limit.
Basically, this whole situation really made me think: if everyone knows that they could die at any given moment, why do they give in to the voice? If everyone lived like I had this past year, I can guarantee you that the entire human population would have a radiating glow of happiness to it.
All I’m saying is that it’s not too late for you guys just yet. It is so wonderful “that you are here—that life exists, and identity.” As a human, you have the full ability to do wonderful things and to go out and live your life. You don’t have to drop everything you’re doing and go skydiving or something, but please, PLEASE take advantage of the precious time that you’re young and able and alive. Consider it to be my last wish.


Alright, your turn. If you're out of post ideas, I have a prompt for you:

Imagine being told today by Death himself that you have just a year to live. Write a eulogy to be read aloud at your funeral describing what you did in the past year.

(Yes, this was an English assignment. I got a 97 :] )

Stars - "Take Me to the Riot"

[It's easily my favorite part when he says "Saturday nights in neon lights"]


Saturday, September 25, 2010

I never realized how therapeutic long walks by yourself can be.

Well, taking Daisy along didn't hurt. She was fun to talk to.

So, basically, I was home alone for most of today. I became sick of waiting for my brother to come home from his friends house, so I wrote an illegible memo on a post-it note and headed outside with no particular destination in mind.

It was so beautiful. The air smelled crisp and clean and cinnamon-y like fall, but the last taste of summer still hung in the warm air. The five o'clock sun made the atmosphere so (well, for lack of an appropriate synonym) perfect. I made an effort to kick up the dried leaves that had been swept to the side of the road by the speeding cars and uttered my thoughts aloud to Daisy, only silencing when a car would drive by. There was something really relieving about not having to censor my thoughts, talking aloud about whatever came to mind.

After a bit of meandering, I decided to venture over to Mike's house. In the process, I nearly got flattened by a speeding car. (I'll never tell that bit to my parents, though. They'd probably never let me out alone again.) I sat on the patch of stiff, prickly grass across from his house for awhile, internally debating whether or not to go knock on the door to see if he was there. I eventually decided in favor of it, only to have his dad tell me that he had gone out a few hours ago.

Careful not to get hit by any more cars, I turned around and walked back towards the general direction of my house.

I paused at the bottom of a long, winding driveway. I knew that there were two or three picture-perfect McMansions perched on the top, one of which was home to a cute boy in my English class. I took a deep breath and began to climb the steady ascent, dragging a reluctant Daisy behind me. I quickly conjured up an alibi, which wasn't entirely untrue. If anyone asks, I was just wondering what it looked like up here...

It wasn't long before I heard screeching laughter and could see the distant smoke of a barbecue. An opened box of chalk sat of the edge of a driveway. I quickly looked around and grabbed a pale pink piece when I was sure that no one could see me.

"Hi" I wrote neatly, careful not to dot the title of the "i" with a circle like I usually would. Daisy glared into the distance with minimal interest as I drew a smiley face and a curlicue. I moved over some leaves at the edge of the road with my red hands and paused. "You're cute," I wrote as tiny as possible, quickly covering the message with dried leaves.

I'm such a girl.

I'm also aware that this whole post is way more descriptive than it needs to be, but this was one of those things that I love myself for. I'm so glad that I got up and went out and made my own adventure.

Oasis - "All Around the World"

[I don't care how long this song is. You should all have each and every word memorized by now.]

P.S. Music recommendations!? :]


Monday, September 20, 2010

So, I've been a blogger for quite a while, and I've observed a thing or two about the blogs that have the most followers-- the blogs that have easily captured the attention of most blog-goers.

It's a simple equation, really. Everyday, they post aesthetically-pleasing JPEGS from tumblr, short-and-sweet mysterious musings, and song lyrics among other predictable things.

My blog will never really be like that. This blog is like my journal, and it's totally open to anyone who is willing to read it (which isn't too many people, considering the fact that I like to post really long rant-y posts, which a lot of people don't have the patience for). I want to be able to look back at my silly posts and remember how back then I cared about the stupidest things and didn't notice anything and just didn't get it. I want to know about what happened at the grocery store and how I felt when I was running my track races. I want those silly details because I'm afraid to forget about them.

You know how your parents used to have you stand up against a door frame and use a ballpoint pen to mark how tall you were, and you'd always kind of stand up on your toes to make you seem taller? That's pretty much what this is. I'm looking forward to looking back at this and remembering how I thought that I was so more mature than I really was, how bad of a photographer I was, and how I went about daily life not having a clue about what is to come.

Why do you blog? :]

Spoon - "The Underdog"

[I just learned that this song was on the "17 Again" soundtrack with Zac Efron. Uh.]


Thursday, September 16, 2010

I had such a strange day.

I felt so trapped, so conscious of the randomest things. I guess the proper way to describe it would be to say that I was "out of it."

I forgot to put on makeup this morning, and I finally let my bangs down. Perhaps that had something to do with it?

I wrote a poem in college writing:

Eight tiny lines are to be swallowed
standing still as can be
and with no bit of concern
they would float away from me
as silently as they came
with not a penny to their name
to keep them erect
and ready for a war
between a mother and a father
that had happened once before
when she had bit back her tongue
and nearly chocked on a lung
that was so brittle and pink
that she chose not to even think
about those eight tiny lines

I meant for it to be a nonsense poem, and I just chose random lines that I though would sound nice together. I suppose when you first look at it, the poem could be about divorce or something. But I didn't really mean for it to be like that. The study of literature and English can be so ridiculous sometimes, and I bet that at least one of the poems that I've read in my lifetime that so many people take as deep and meaningful could have started with the author writing random things with no thoughts about a meaning at all. Every fucking thing on this planet can be taken to be meaningful, just depending on how you look at it.

Anyways, when I volunteered to read it in class, I suddenly got really nervous. My voice cracked when I said "mother and father", and for a second it probably sounded like I was about to burst into tears. The class looked kind of shocked, so I played it off by clarifying that my voice had indeed cracked, and I wasn't really pouring my heart and soul out onto my piece of paper.

"Were those eight lines something someone had said?" Mr. Powers asked when I had finished. He looked a little concerned.


"Did you have any particular meaning in mind when you wrote this poem?"

"No. It's kind of a nonsense poem."

"I see," he said, looking pensive. "I liked your rhyming scheme."


For cross country practice, we ran down to the track to do a speed workout. I liked the rubbery feeling of track beneath my sneakers, and the plastic-y smell that lingered around the soccer field smelled like nervousness and exhaustion.

We ran four 1000-meter intervals with 400 meter jogs in-between. I did okay, guess. When we bean our mile cool-down jog, however, I was surged with all this energy. I sped up a little bit, and jogged with the front of the "pack" instead of in the back like I usually would. Everyone groaned about how exhausted they were, and how they couldn't wait to go home and "inhale a tub of ice cream." I, for one, didn't want to stop running. I suddenly felt this weird warmth enveloping me, and all of my muscles felt tender and loose.

"That's a runner's high," my friend, Louise, told me.


I suppose I was running a little too fast, though, because some of the freshmen got lost in the woods. (It's all one big loop, how they could possibly get lost is beyond me.)

I was very disappointed when we had to stop running to stretch. My feet were still tingling, and I had a terrible urge to go run another mile.

I was confronted by the two captains after practice.

"Caroline, are you... okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You just seemed a little out of it during the stretches..." The way that they said it made me think that they suspected I was doing drugs or something.

I shrugged. I later asked Paige if she though that I had acted strange today. "I dunno, it just seemed like all day you knew this really big secret but you didn't want to tell anybody. You know, you had that sort of concerned look on your face."

And then, as soon as I hopped into my mom's car, I burst into tears.

Yeah, I don't know.

Voxtrot - "Wrecking Force"

[I.LOVE.THIS. The instrumentals at the end? AGH]

p.s. does anyone listen to my music recommendations? I know they couldn't possibly all appeal to anyone but me, but have I ever recommended a song to you that you absolutley adored? Please tell. :)


Monday, September 13, 2010

Urg, I haven't been inspired lately.

I guess I'll just write down some random thoughts that have been floating through my mind...


I found an expired digital camera in a cabinet drawer the other week. I've been taking some pictures with it. My idea is basically to be able to look back on them years from now and get the basic gist of what September 2010 was like for me.

I'll post them when I develop the film and figure out my scanner.


I went to a pasta dinner for cross country today.


UGH. I can't do this.

I'm so sorry.

I've just been braindead, and random unexplained bouts of jealousy and cynicism and sadness have really been bringing me down.

Maybe I'm just PMSing?

Oh well.

But I promise I'll play some sudoku or solitaire or write a poem or freewrite or something for a bit to get my cognitive muscles working.

I just wanted to remind you guys how much I fucking love you.

[Which begs the question, have I ever lost followers for saying bad words despite my adoration?]



Thursday, September 9, 2010

I love how predictable people are.

We all work the same way. We're all following our own pursuit of happiness, we care about what other people think of us, we want affection from other individuals, and we don't like to be embarrassed or angry or jealous or sad. We're all just trying to make it though another day. A lot of people fail to realize that, though, and they don't sympathize with others unfortunate enough to have been mislead.

I think that if we can all find that sympathy, then we can achieve inner peace and peace with those among us.


Thursday, September 2, 2010

So... I've made a few changes to myself.

Numero uno --which is hardly a big deal-- is that I accidentally cut my bangs super short a week or two ago, so now I'm stuck with these trendy "blunt bangs" that hardly work for me. Although Seventeen clearly states that they "make the right statement!", I think I'll just clip them back for now. Maybe if I feel confident and muster up the energy to curl my hair then I'll dare to wear them down to school...

Number two. I joined the cross country team. I may or may not have mentioned it already, but yes, I am now an official cross country runner. So far I've been holding up pretty well. (Well, with the exception of the first practice I went to, in which I threw up the half-digested apple that I had for breakfast. But I won't go into details.) I've become insanely hungry and thirsty all the time and I start to breathe heavily when I think about running too much, but overall it's been such a nice experience. The girls on the team are all so nice, and we're all so supportive and sympathetic of each other. [:

Number three. There's another girl on the cross country team with the same name as me, so I've asked the girls to call me Charlie. Which makes sense, because my name's the one of the female versions of Charles.

Which leads me to... Secret #10:

(which is hardly a secret, but it kind of is to you guys)

My real name's Caroline.

But Kay's easier, and the only people who refer to me as Kay are my dad, my cousins, a friend or two...

and you guys. [:

Number four. (This one's a biggie)--

I'm becoming a vegetarian again!

And when I say "again", I mean the first time in five years. When I was 10, Mike (my best guy friend) and I were both mini-animal-rights-activists-slash-hippies and watched animal planet in our spare time. Naturally, we wanted to become vegetarians to help in our pursuit to save the earth.

I was totally vegetarian for almost a year, when my stupid physical came around. My mom soon learned that my blood iron levels were extremely low, and in turn she managed to get me back into the habit of eating meat again.

But she won't this time.


I'll be sparing the living, breathing organisms, thank you very much.


Tuesday, August 31, 2010


I am so sorry I've been neglecting my precious blog. :[

I have so much to catch up on... there are seriously about a billion things in the back of my mind that I've been meaning to blog about.

I actually caved in and got a tumblr (mostly because of the pretty pictures, hah). While it's fun, I think that blogger is a little more personal and heartfelt, and you get to know your followers a little better. (Plus, tumblr is just full of crazy All Time Low/Nevershoutnever fans, overly dramatic girls who calim they will be "forever alone!", narcissistic boys, and a bunch of depressed teenagers blogging about how many cuts they made today...)

Anywho, do indeed have a lot to catch up on. I've been having some odd dreams that I need to log into my dream blog, and I've been neglecting making a post about when I went to Maine and Warped Tour and how much of my summer checklist I've completed. And also, I have to blog about how I just went to Six Flags the other day to see Nevershoutnever and The Ready set (it was quite an adventure :] )

So, yeah, it's my last day of summer. I have summer work I need to catch up on and I have cross country practice at 3, so it probably won't be all that memorable.

OH, and I have to write about how I just started cross country! It was RIDICULOUS! I've only been to 2 practices and I've kind of realized that I'm not all that bad at it. Yesterday we ran 4 1/2 miles and I totally creamed my cross country veteran friend. :D

Also, I've decided to put off posting my completed summer checklist until September 21... 'cause in all technicality that is the official end of summer.

Yeah. Sorry this was kind of rant-y and long. [:

Neverhsoutnever - "First Dance"

[This video makes me happy :)]


Saturday, August 21, 2010

Secret #9:

Sometimes I think to myself:

"she's not even that pretty"

"she's doesn't even have good music taste"

"but I was first"

"but I told him so much"

"she can't possibly be better than... me?"

Yeah, I'm just another selfish teenage girl.

And you always see girls post shit like this on tumblr and whatever and stuff, and I really hate how this now applies to me.



A Rocket to the Moon - "Baby, We're Invincible"

["If I could take these words and fill them up with air, I'd take you to the stars so we could disappear"]


Thursday, August 19, 2010

These are just some silly pictures of me I thought you might enjoy.


I went downstairs to get some food last night in the pitch black and ran straight into a wall.

Somehow I my nose was the only thing to wham into it.


I like summer.

Maybe I can get 50 followers by the end of it? :]

The Downtown Fiction - "Living Proof"


Thursday, August 12, 2010

Here are some possible reasons as to why I'm not sleeping:

1. I had coffee before bed and I'm physically incapable of sleeping.
2. I'm doing stupid things on the computer.
3. I'm doing smart things on the computer (e.g. doing homework, writing stories, studying, etc.)
4. I have too much to think about, so I'm lying in my bed thinking of everything there is to think about.
5. I'm excited/anxious for something, and as much as I need to fall sleep, it's a little tough to do so.
6. There's not really any other time for me to listen to music during the day, so I'm listening to whatever new/old album I just downloaded.
7. I'm cutting out pictures from magazines and taping them on my wall.
8. I'm engrossed in a really good book.
9. I'm sitting on my roof watching the stars.
10. I'm catching up with TV. [:

So... why do/don't you sleep?

Brighten - "Without You"

["Darling, I need you" :) ]


Thursday, August 5, 2010

Breathe Carolina - "Welcome to Savannah"

[Another song that brings me straight back to last summer]


Tuesday, August 3, 2010

[Disclaimer: not my pictures. Click on 'em to go the the photographer's flickr!]

I saw him at the carnival today! :D

Maybe someday I'll talk to him...


I have a major headache. As much as I love to go on rides, I'm not particularly fond of spinning around and around and around and around and around...

ALSO, I'm going to Maine tomorrow for a week. I'll be missing you people! :]

Crime in Stereo - "Vicious Teeth"




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