I have a poem for you all

In the morning. 

Another one about le sitch, but more directed towards the support I'll get from my friends, even when they simply //know// what's going on. They don't have to know what to do. But just for them to be there...I'm so excited. I can't wait. 

Also, this is my first mobile post ever, which is kind of cool. I'm on my phone leaning with my neck and head off the bed. Meant to go to sleep forty minutes ago oops. Hopefully the kids at camp will be loud and the lunch will be good. Here's to being hopeful. 

Love//peace:/chickengrease

I Love My Dreams, But...

It's really sad when I wake up and there are all these sounds going on .... because I promptly forget what happened in my dream and whether I relax or search for it, it's like the dream just goes *poof*.

I have great dreams. No, honestly, I do. They're all colorful, vibrant, crazy (and I don't necessarily mean colorful in actual colors although I remember them all in color). There's usually a bad guy that we're running from and trying to fix the wrongdoings of (often a group of people). I think once it was like Star Wars and people were using the force. Last night probably got jumbled in with the 6 episodes of Switched At Birth I watched because I mean, dude, have you seen the new commercials/previews/teaser (sorry, I never really know what to call it) on ABC Family for the new season premiere? It makes me wonder why I ever stopped watching. Maybe I am so shallow that it was because Emmett and Bay didn't get back together....

I think they're adorable for life. One of you randoms out there have to believe in it too, right? I have some support?

Whether or not I have support, I guess, is fine. I mean, I still reeeaalalllyyy wanted Bae and Emma to be together from Once Upon A Time, even though Baelfire is obviously dead... And, well, that ended well before certain things happened but... you know, I held on to it well after people around me were like WOO CAPTAIN SWAN 5EVER -- except actually I think all the other Baelfire x Emma people were transitioning the same way I was actually so this last little paragraph thing is probably completely useless or something.

Anywayyysss
I am assuming last night's dream is probably all jumbled up with Switched At Birth, and that assumption comes because when I try to think of my dream in pictures or anything, really, I come up with what I remember to be Switched At Birth. And I guess you could assume maybe some of my dreams were scenes from the show, but I honestly don't think so. Even now, it came to me that Emmett may have been a dude in my dream, but I really don't think so.... When I try to search for memories of the dream... all I find in relation to the dream is a bunch of feelings that I relate to the dream. Now, I'm not exactly sure what they are but I feel a sort of excitement in myself, the excitement I get from having dreams.

So here's to quiet mornings and writing down dreams.
But, also, here's to the fact that I don't completely feel like crying when I lose a dream anymore. I've decided that it's still somewhere inside me and will probably affect my future writing in some way. Meanwhile, I have lots of dreams... lots more than a lot of people have in their conscious easy-to-pick-and-pull-from memory. Also, one of the first fiction stories I started writing was based on a dream. I remember that dream forever. I love the happenings like that so much. Therefore, I'm so so so glad I taught myself that it's okay if I lose a dream...even if it was really grand...

So here's to the dreams that get sucked back into the deepest recesses of my brain where, although I can't even find them, they make me a much cooler person than I was before.

Love/Peace/ChickenGrease/Rock on  ♥ ♥ ♥

Dear Oak Ridge Visitor, I will get the picture up in a little bit.

Dear Oak Ridge Visitor,
   I've been very curious about you for a while now. Many questions run through my head like the man who sits and thinks all day. Like that man who sits and thinks but cannot see for his eyes do not work like yours and mine, I wonder if I know those who pass by me. By some random act of chance, do I know ye who passes by my blog? By some random act of chance, does the man who sits and thinks without really sitting or thinking know those who pass by him? And what about those who come back repeatedly? Does he recognize their name, or how they speak, or the sound of the footsteps? Does he notice that they come back repeatedly and wonder why they do such a thing? Does he wonder, as I do, if he knows this person, or at least does this person know him? By some random act of chance? Maybe they weren't close, but maybe they were...in a different soul or a different life? Or maybe they knew each other in a strange dream and each one has the same exact way of being as they had in the dream. Or maybe...maybe there is something wrong with the Feedjit thingy at the bottom, and it just picks me up as the Oak Ridge visitor...Maybe there's something wrong and the man who sits and thinks without really sitting and thinking thinks he recognizes a repeated visitor when it's really just the air-conditioning turning on, or someone flushing a toilet, or his own, barely touchable, thoughts that imagine the breath and the touch and the footsteps for him. Maybe there's just something messing with our heads

....

^5/16/11

[Update: man = human. I know someone who lives there, but I was just going with whatever passed through my fingers, in this case. Maybe it will make you think. I hope so, anyways. I don't know where I was going with it, and I will tag it as unfinished, but I don't want to touch it right now. Also, I don't know what picture I was talking about. Maybe now, this can be the picture. Or maybe, someday, the finished product can be the picture. Or maybe, another day, the second take at this, a sister letter, could be the picture alongside this one.]

The 13th of Poetry

Today being Friday the 13th and since we have been reading Poe in English, I recently found my old horror story from a middle school continuation assignment of a story we only read the first part of and it has thus provoked my desire to write creepy, dark literature. Although creepy and dark is fun, the most important part for me is to make it "thought provoking", and leave you saying it "got you thinking about things". Yes! All I want to write is something with layers that pokes at you and maybe you, the reader, can't really tell how everything is supposed to go together but that's okay because, for me, that's how it's supposed to be and how things often work in my mind. I love to bring out the dark, smokey part. But I love even more to bring out the corner of my mind with globs of supernatural ooze and demons with empty eye sockets. And then I most often bring out one of the many lines that connect all sides of my writing prompts: and I will make you think more than is easy.

I kind of started explaining too much/losing proper words there at the end so I'll go ahead and...

Part I
Dead is dead
in dens and dirt
Damned and drinking.
In drought, still drinking.
Keep on drinking.
Thus, dragging these darlings deeper down as dapper demons do
Disguised as dapper gentlemen.
Demonically drawing forth faith
devise it into solitude,
deeply.

 Part II
The dears, they sigh.
Denial displaces death
Dance the dance of darkened days
The indentured slaves don't drown today,
don't give away.
In this indentured life let difference fall
between dry spell and diphthong drawl.
Bewitch me, pinch me,
I have been discovering
you
who stands
doomed, but delaying
what dead is dead will do.

Happy Camping!

It's April! And apparently (as I discovered a few months ago), that means Camp NaNoWriMo time! So naturally, I'm doing it. My other story... "The Untitled Yet", from November... well... let's say she's kind of in a coma...

The feelings that were my driving force behind Pasqualina's story got lost when they went away out of me and I stopped experiencing them in my life.

I plan on getting to 4,009 (preferred word count as of the 13th) tonight before I go to bed. I have about 30 minutes after I go get my laundry and that's why this post is short.

This new one is completely not about anything in my life...but of course, we always write about what we know, don't we? And I will always fit something in somehow. I guess I already have.

My southern roots, the way I push my hair back... they're already in there... and fun.. fun with friends and close bonds with family and being able to relax no matter what with your friends.. Those are there in my story.

Today was Marathon Day. I guess it still is. :) Yay :3
I wrote 2,051 words in one sitting and now I'm up to 3,413 words out of my goal of 10k. You can do the math, if you'd like :). I don't have enough time. I should be writing elsewhere.

So...

Are you one of them? Are you a Jennifer?

La. La. La. Poema.

Here's the structure-y and partial explanation one. The just there one is here.


"The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want..."

Shit! I'm supposed to be at Chamber Singers practice.

"He maketh me lie down in green pastures..."

I can't believe I forgot!

"He leadeth me besideth still waters.."

It started a whole freaking hour ago.

"He restoreth my soul..."

I hope they don't get mad at me.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..."

Okay, I'm not worried about the teachers. But what if I get in trouble with my student leader?

"I will fear no evil..."

That would be an awful way to start out the year. I can't believe I forgot. I'm so stupid.

"For thou art with me..."

But maybe they'll cut me some slack since its only my first practice.

"Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me..."

And I'm only a freshman.

------ [Part 2]

"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies..."

Oh, but the best conversations with a friend are the ones during which you tell your most personal ways of being. And the ones you can't figure out by yourself, you figure out together.

"Thou anointest my head with oil..."

Because the best thing I want for you is for you to be truly happy and truly you.

"My cup overfloweth..."

However, do remember that you can never do anything to be any more you.

"Surely goodness and mercy will follow me..."

I have to tell you that tomorrow.

"All the days of my life..."

I guess I don't have to, but I want to some day soon.

------ [End of Part One and Two]

"And I will live in the house of the Lord forever."

And we'll all be okay, you know.

Ohhhhh nothing.... Just this poem that I'm insanely proud of.

^^+ not just for writing it. I just presented this in chapel in front of my 300+ peers and teachers and even though I was shaking intensely no one noticed it (they never do) and everyone has told me my speaking was really smooth. Audlang even told me it was "perfect". She may seem quiet, but talking to her about my poem is one of the most intelligent sounding--if not simply intelligent--conversations I've ever had. I mean, I knew it before...but she's smart! She's so sweet too...I love her. :)
You know what is a HUGE confident boost??
This: walking back to my seat in the almost-back of the room and 3 teachers telling me I did really well (Mrs. P, the literary club and journalism head/teacher who is the teacher for the school newspaper!!, and somebody else... + Sancheeto giving me a high five and a girl in the advisory that sits next to me (just so happening to sit next to the empty seat I was traversing towards) who I knew was nice and stuff in the first place and have known since 6th grade so it's not like she's a stranger, told me I did really well as I sat down.
And this all happening during chapel. As I walk back while other stuff is going on on the stage and they took the time to tell me I did great and "really really well" and OH MY GOSH. And our principle and Mrs. Ward and oh I'm so insanely proud of myself and my poem.

Here it is (in boring, structured form. WARNING: structure WILL fall apart)

Think About It
It's not just a poem
It's a story
a line
a piece of a time
or of yours
It's not just a sunset
It's a time set, a place that we once met and sat and read for hours on end
and painted
It's not just having a boyfriend--or a best friend--or even a team!
It's a possibility
It's potential
it's taking a chance and finding out for yourself who you are and who you can be
She's not just a puppy
But a confidant, a confident bouncy roll of fur, and a tearful, inevitable goodbye wrapped into one
And this isn't just a life that one leads
It's a life that we lead
and we can lead so together and together as one
It's a give and take situation
where we give life and can't take it
but we try to take it anyways
and sometimes we succeed

4/4/12

---
And now, with some inspiration from my tags...I leave with:

My Freshman Poem and Because I Did
Take a chance
Take a bow
Hear the sound
Insanely proud
Of the cheers
That you hear
When you listen
because you can

4/10/12
^^this, my friend, is how I feel about it all now. The presentation, the poem, everything.

Magpie #108

Magpie 108. Picture here.

Tunnel vision, blurry now, coming faster
Coming
Trees whizz by and Coke fizzes-by, towards you faster
Running
Standing in the clearing
What more you wish to see?
You don't see me a-running from the darkness midst the trees. 
Here.. I am coming
Coming for you here and now
Running out the jungle
Of leaves and flowers turning brown
But brown they were, and now they're blackish green from dark of night. 
But you don't see this, do you, dear?
Because you're a-standing in the light. 
I could be a werewolf, wet and fiery for your flesh. 
Or a vampire, sparkly diamonds, classical music, and your death. 
Or maybe I'm you're savior as you rush into the light
Away from death, you think, away from fright...
Away from even fight
But fight you must
And fight you will
Although for now you're forever captured
Standing in the light
Outside the dark
In this picture
Which you see blurred
As I run faster

another WRITTEN...*Shred The Snowflake*

okay..so from now on...whenever anyone posts anything on WRITERS CAP...or if i do (as long as it's writing...) i will post in on here as a post...and say who it's by:

yelling and screaming
inside of my head
breaking my neck
skinning my skull
what does it take
for a girl to feel whole?
hands with these scabs
that want to peel off
try on a dress
it's no good
take it off.
staples
replacements
afraid i'll punch holes
in my skinny little fingers
afraid of the untold.
i don't like to yell
and i don't like to fight
but i'd like it if you heard me
declare what is right.
and i'd like it if you'd listen
to my undead voice
to my irquiet
my enhancement
me poke out of my shell.
and i know that some people
they'd listen to me all day
they hang on to every
single
stinking
last word that i say.
i don't want to be their life
where they think of nothing else
i don't want to be the girl
who consumes their whole world.
like a monster
like pacman
a thousand times enlarged
chewing up
and swallowing
things bigger than cars.
and 
my mind will go blank here
like the next line
still consumed
each one
one
after
another
consumed
consumed
consumed.
and i'm starting to let go
and forget what is right.
and i really don't want to
i don't want to fight.
i don't want to fight with others
but i'll fight to stay near
i'll fight to stay sane
making the right choices right here.
and i can't forget now
what i've known all this time

and i must tear up the snowflake
without a whimper or whine.
that snowflake
didn't make me
it broke me instead.
and tonight
i'm supposed to go out
not be stuck in my bed.
so that snowflake
it broke me
so now it's my turn
to say
that
I'M SORRY
it's my turn to learn

all the trouble this causes
all the choices i've made
all the things that could happen
all these things are insane
they're insane because i know better
but i've made like a fool
all these mindless decisions
just give me the right tool
you gave it to me
you gave me that anger
that disappointment
that annoyance
that "You have so let me down. You know you could've done better."
and i might get angry if i
go over there
and you
have torn up
my snowflake
it's crazy but true
because i must
by myself
shred that snowflake in half
because i must
by myself
bring around my life raft
and i must
by myself
bring me down to the ground
and i must
by myself
find the right tools to be found.

By:singkittyle000 (but i wasn't singkittyle000 back then... i was just me...and i'm still me...but i'm different as well) 12/13/09