Barbie vs. Boosey (My PERSONAL shoe wishlist of Dec. 2011)

A series: Love letters to Xeuryia; Letter One

You, Xeuryia, are sacred.
Much like the way your wet hair grazes your lower back when you step out of the shower, much like the chills that manifest on your abdomen as his lips graze your neck.

You, Xeuryia, are quirky.
Much like the way you enjoy eating Ramen noodles with chopsticks because it makes you feel cultured.

the name is xeuryia.

Carita- luna, moonlit beauty
Euphraxia- to delight the heart and mind
Xylia-of the forest
Tryphosa- the delicate
Disir - spirits who attach themselves to a particular place.

carita euphraxia xylia tryphosa disir


phosacarxylia



The delicate moonlit beauty of the forest


xeuryia

of the forest to delight the heart and mind

To delight the heart and mind of the delicate forest

I want

a boy who rewards himself with manly bath time. You know, a bath and beer and a wooden "rubber ducky" or something.

Flowers in a jar we picked out in my yard,
Face in my pillow, fevered with fears that offend you,
of course you'll come back, of course you won't leave like this,
of course you'll come back and give my forehead a kiss,
of course you'll touch my salty cheek,
of course you'll return to me.

Bipolar cat that sat in my lap during our night picnic,
Candy bars you bought me in my refrigerator and bodies moving rhythmic,
I hope you remember sitting in coffee shops and romantic evenings,
I hope you think its cute that I get chocolate on my elbows,
And I hope you like how much I love animals,
and I know you'll remember the fits but never forget flowers in a jar we picked out in my yard,
I'll never forget you'll come back and of course you'll return to me.

Three hours. Not a full work shift.

A day. Not long enough to clean my room.

Two days. Three hours.

Three days. Still not a full work week but the average number of shifts I may work.

Four days. Still not the weekend.

Five days. I have waited much longer.

Six days. Not yet a full week.

Six days and three hours. We’ll figure it out.

Three hours, September. 19 is young. 

Three hours, September, 5 years. That pains a little.

Three hours.

Homes Boney Chest

We sat in the backseat of your car, blankets immersing us in fake sanctuary; I'm home because you're there. I don't really take pleasure in scary movies, they interest me, but they depress me. We ignore the movie, we tried playing cards. I touched you beneath your undergarments; Warmth; I was home; In the back of your car; At the drive-in theater; On screen two.

What do you do when home leaves you? Put up signs with his face on it? “Money reward for return of home” You can have a weakness for the fossils- The poem, the horse you endearingly knitted for weeks, the dream catcher that whimsically suspends from my wall with my uneven décor, red walls with your writing- will these fossils haunt me or comfort me?

I want to lay my head on homes boney chest. I love you.

bottomless

I often do not become conscious of the amount of pain I feel, though nevertheless, it is dreadfully present.  I have a “gift” (one could say) for snubbing that nagging anguish- AKA: the deep cuts. I divert their attention to/ with the minor scrapes.  Later, however, in combination with the lesser scrapes, the deep cuts begin to feel bottomless.

"For the sake of goodness and love, man shall let death have no sovereignty over his thoughts." - Thomas Mann


To Govern. Supreme power or authority.

Often times religion is a cultural system relating mostly to humanity, that establishes thoughts,ideas and morals that contribute to an individuals values. Often times those "values" become a "merit" or "worth" in a society and suddenly those who do not share the same "values" lack "merit". When a cultural system (ahem, religion) becomes such a cycle it often governs (rather than influencing) many lives and choices. I believe Thomas Mann is advising us to let "goodness and love" govern our thoughts.

"An art whose medium is language will always show a high degree of critical creativeness, for speech is itself a critique of life: it names, it characterizes, it passes judgment, in that it creates."

I remember in the 8th grade, I wrote a paper titled "What Is Art?", I basically wrote a whole essay on the sum of this quote. Had I knew Thomas Mann had so much to say, I would have quoted him in that essay. I define art as "anything that is a product of creativity", here, Thomas Mann defines what role language plays in art and life. He talks about how it creates within itself "... in that it creates". - Thomas Mann

Thomas Mann- (German writer and artist):

"For the sake of goodness and love, man shall let death have no sovereignty over his thoughts."
"A great truth is a truth whose opposite is also a truth."

"A writer is somebody for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people."

"Human reason needs only to will more strongly than fate, and she is fate."

"If you are possessed by an idea, you find it expressed everywhere, you even smell it."

"Order and simplification are the first steps toward the mastery of a subject."

"People's behavior makes sense if you think about it in terms of their goals, needs, and motives."

"Solitude gives birth to the original in us, to beauty unfamiliar and perilous - to poetry. But also, it gives birth to the opposite: to the perverse, the illicit, the absurd."



"The task of a writer consists of being able to make something out of an idea."

"The writer's joy is the thought that can become emotion, the emotion that can wholly become a thought."

"War is only a cowardly escape from the problems of peace."

"We don't love qualities, we love persons; sometimes by reason of their defects as well as of their qualities."

Stop feeling guilty for wanting to laugh,

We know you think its funny.

 By: Kate Frakes and, well, myself.

Its Earth Day, SweetPea!

So I have been thinking (Everybody take cover) about consumerism, and well, damn, I am a consumerist, however, today is like redemption day. Get inspired and make some changes. So here we go, I'm going to tell you the changes I wish to see in my own lifestyle:

-Recycle "trash" more!
-Use resusable grocery bags (I do, but I need more!)
-Buy less new clothes (This one hurts a little, but hey, recycling old styles is fun)
-PLANT TREES!!! AND FLOWERS! AND FAIRY GARDENS!
-Get away from preservatives!

THE IMPORTANT PART:
Don't do these things in vain! Please, do it because of the love you have for mother earth. Don't feel that love? Go outside in the worst of conditions. Rain, snow, sleet, PLEASE. This is the most active way to learn to love the earth. Get dirty, Get cold, Get uncomfortable, Get wet (get your head out of the gutter!).
And read this: http://blog.babybearshop.com/2011/03/tree-hugger.html
It inspired me!

For some reason, this makes me feel like a indoor fairy?

I haven't been a fairy for a while now, but I'm determined.

For my boy. :)

For Eva Dear,

.

She wasn't lying at all, so he took out his flask and drank two little sips before entering this abysmal stage of confusion. The curtains were backwards and the candles burned up from the bottom.

I possess an infatuation for tacky objects... hygienic frumpy units of goodness. Like discovering something that looks dirty, and sanitizing it, but leaving the rust. Also, I like to start sentences with like, so bite me (stop being so literal, if you bite me I'll cry).

The most delicate, intricate pieces of my life are because of the qualities you might be ashamed of.

The trashy life?

I'll lie to you.

My biggest secret you can never know.
The monopoly business in my mind.
It's a type of agency, beautiful and intellectual,
insightful and sexy.
It's something I am, it's wrong and deceitful,
hurtful and needy.
It's my biggest secret you can never know.

*Biggest = unthoughtful, deepest, darkest, life altering, interrupting

Me;My Truck; and Daddy's laptop.

Little ears be careful what you see?

The lips that lied painted pictures as they pressed against my ear, in a seductive voice they painted memories before they happened. I kiss the lights goodbye as the voice lullabies my mind with its colorful words and tasteful untruths. The lies didn't taste like cake, they weren't sweet against my taste buds, but lustful; like fatty pasta drenched in a delightful cheese. That kind of lust. That kind of guilt. That kind of pleasure.
And so, little ears, be careful what you see, and big ol' brain, be careful what you taste.

texture ecstasy

I have obtained this seemingly tangible craving for dust and grit lately. This coarse lust I compulsively abide by. I intend this in the context in which I have placed it, no metaphors... You know that dirtied gritty feeling left on your hands after removing a pair of rubber gloves or writing with a piece of chalk? I covet that feeling between my teeth, grinding in some manner most would find chaotically unpleasant.

b _ _ . h _ _ _ _ r.

Romantic in the original since of the word, romantic for the world.
He's beautiful, but something antagonizes me so unpleasantly.
I'm in love, not with him, but then again, I would throw anyone overboard to glimpse at him while he works his magic, memories of watching him tick exasperate me so detrimentally.
My fear of him departing again, I don't want him but I need him to function correctly.
Stay around.

real.

What do you see to?
What do you declare?
What if you're off beam?
Turn off the lights and close your eyes.
It's been a lingering long night and you have ran around this lack of town.
Is it fake, if we fake it, so we can feel it, because faking it made me feel it.
I feel fake if fake is first and turns to real..
Fake it with me so that we can feel it.

Beat. Melody. Road. Beat.

A repetitive beat.
A soothing melody.
You're a kiss away, a grammar mistake too late and a couple thousand miles down the road.
Everything's an everybody and we're all off beat.
I noticed.

Goodbye winter, dear. I anticipate your arrival.

Entirety converses about the gloom of winter and so if I were winter I would fumble upon gloom as well.
If a sum of folk proceeded gossiping, preaching "Scarlett Atmosphere abides in our existence as a gloom generator"... Well then, I wouldn't desire to be Scarlett Atmosphere.
Subjectively, I venerate the characteristics and atheistic's of trees during winter, (no not when the sparkling snow comes to devour their branches, though that is quite beautiful too) but when the branches stretch out long and naked for everyone to see. They remind me of something strong but not bulky, something towering but not prideful. Something natural but not trendy. People beg the bare trees to put something on because they don't see the beauty of it's nakedness. When the trees start to bloom everyone pretends to praise the tree, but only talks about it's bloom. I like the tree. The real tree. The bare tree. The naked tree. The individual branch, the texture of bark.

Over, under, under, over, over, over, into, over, over, over.

Sometimes overachievers don’t belong with underachievers,
Because this underachiever is an over thinker.Over thinkers spend more time thinking than achieving.This over thinking turns into overanalyzing.
And I pray I’m not overreacting but possibly love is passing,
And it’s all over our heads.

(Turns out time was behind it all)

Generic?

I suppose light is far away, and close. Dignity as well.
We can look at leaves through the window all day and wonder all day why we are only looking at the leaves of trees through the window. We can stare at the fence holding in our pets and wonder if it is really moral. We can stare into the eyes of a broken soul and think that they have the answers; they just won't put them to use. We can set on our asses and write blogs all day about how we think and how others do, but will we ever really... will I ever really, make a difference? Or will I sit behind a screen with a mind using the very essence of idle to talk through a motionless matter? I'm not imagining I'll do anything less or anything more; I am just being like everyone else. I am pointing out the obvious so that I may seem slightly at fault but yet slightly above everything else. Is it working?

International Center Of "everything that matters to us"

We are a little like a guide book.
"Configure your adapter"
Start>All programs>Accessories>Command Prompt.

The beginning>Of everything that matters to us>And everything that matters to anyone that matters to us>I'll tell you what you must do, promptly.

No one reads this.

I don’t convene thoughts in my philosophy chair anymore and I’ve allowed my window to slip away.
I haven’t been proficient, nor have I seen the moon recently… excluding my talent for graphic reminiscing.
I suppose I’ve allowed my imagination to slip away, any ideas on obtaining it?

Your vintage, modern, grown-up infant.

An exciting sense of realization.
A new view of a modern kitchen appliance, though I'm far from in a modern environment.
The creativity of a historical studio in New York, in a small town farm house.
The inspiration of a goose-bump itself, A romance so dear,IT'S silk. It's scary and your fierce. Sweet boy, I've never loved, before I loved you as I do now.

Silk traffic.

I ran out in traffic so that you would save me because I didn't want you to feel bad for what you could do to me. You asked what I was thinking and I replied, "You have no need to be afraid of hurting me, I owe you my life don't I? You saved it."

If you have ever truly stared at a feather you will notice the softness of it puts silk to shame.

It's only okay when I'm the one using humor in your goodbye.

You've excelled deeply in the art of goodbye.
Is it getting easier for you while you excel, or does that dramatic effect of yours, really mean it is painful?
Does it matter that I didn't stay calm and collective this time? Does it matter that for the first time, you gave warning?
Does it matter that when you didn't listen to me, I ignored you humor?
Does it matter that never before have you seen a little bit of human nature exist in me and now you have seen it full throttle?
You said see you all in hell, I say get your own line, that is far too common... But I want to say I'll be counting down the days.

Dear _______ ,

The poetry you wrote was never yours, rather than a bearded man with a football and a cheesy smile. I would have liked it better coming from you.

Backspace.

Do indeed, fear the future.
The nose of a child, held high, not knowing she is being reconciled nor recorded.
The disgust towards a boy who knows not but porn and ignorance.
The genuine girl with no personality and the girl hidden behind the wall of shyness and the fear of judgment.
Take a second-glance; some things don't change with time.
A boy with so much love in his soul you feel it radiate, he crafts custom shivers down your spine. He is goofy to hide the feelings.
A person who does well in the comfort of boredom.
A creative genius often seen from the past.
A little note that makes you roll your eyes. No one cares about security?
Status in the form of school uniforms and private labels.
Gossip spreading through the air making you cringe and the sent of nothingness.
Dehydration, and nick names.

Originality is the last thing from original?

Ah, The same is bland?
-----------------------------------
Happy music to block you out. :D
This attempt will work, compliments to Eli for his i-pod suggestion and i-pod. :D
--------------------------------------
All the smiles in the world,
All the flowers that grew wild,
All the old women with their committed old men on Sunday mornings.
I love to be dazed; He compared me to the moon, elegant, mysterious. He said I was like a child, just want to be myself.
He says my fantasy world is wrong, but I love weeds.
I like to believe that it is the life I will live one day, I am aware I’m not proactive.
You still like me, opposites attract?
But I like daisies and the way I imagine fresh air smells.
I like to fly with my wings.
I like to soar through hail.
I like to roll in the mud.
I like to scream and act up when I’m alone.
I like to be a hypocrite of my own mind.
I like to be in control and be controlled.
I like to be stubborn and I like to be convinced.
I sail on a pony too the moon and I don’t care if you don’t think I make since.
I want to live in a box but I’m claustrophobic.
I want to make sense but I’m too ironic.

A failed attempt.

I’ve became a world of fashion rather than a world of grace, though I’m not trendy, and I don’t try enough.
Grace used to be a given, shut up.
I’m trying to write, I don’t even care what you’re saying, I’m rude.
One day I’ll burst, stop intruding on my happy writing.
Where was I? No, I’m not arguing with myself.

(insight?)

Would the speech just end, I don’t even glance at you.
Do you fail to recall how irritated I am by you?
Do you not realize? I know you’re capable of comprehending.
You are a hypocrite, pretending not to know an adequate amount, shoving people around like you are the one in possession of the sky, yet rolling your eyes and overly sighing when people annoy you or distract you in the slightest bit, laying judgment on others.

You are not even conscious of the sky. When was the last time you stopped, shut up, comforted your soul, and gazed at the clouds or the stars or the blue sky? Ever prayed for the moon?
No, because you are too busy pushing your way through life with a stupid excuse because your thoughts are scrambled. I know you could work through that. I’ve never really had the urge to snarl at a person until I met you, but you will always be too oblivious to see you are the only person that can make me so unmerciful.

I tried it, I'm sitting in a library, my computer at home broke.
I tried to gain a pound in one day once just see if it would bring me down.
I tried to not curse infront of strangers.
I tried not to curse.
I tried to ride my poney everyday.
I tried to gain all of my third grade knollage back.
I tried not to care.
I tried to care.
I tried not to be angry.
I tried to hold a grudge.
I tried to learn Frech.
I tried to be special.
I did not try to intruige you.
I tried to look happy.
I tried to look angry.
I tried to be thrilled.
I tried to be scared.
I tried to be calm.
I tried to be the same.
I tried to be different.
I tried to be busy.
I tried to be free.
I tried to fly.
I tried to be down to earth.
I did not try to intruige you.
I tried to be sexy.
I tried to look bad.
I tried to stand out.
I tried to hide.
I tried to look unhappy.
I tried to look glad.
I tried tried tried to understand why I try when you already love me.
And I love me too.
I tried to figure out why we do.

If you wish to remain standing in my path,
I am not eager to prohibit you, but you ought not condemn me for the imparities, for the pain, I will incidentally cause.
---
The moon gave me cold chills again, warming my stomach like a child being calmed,
Peanut butter and crackers and microwaved cream.
--
I felt thoughtless when you vanished from my view, but you appeared gorgeous in the short time you rested behind the trees.
I've stopped the dreams of winds, though I wish I could bring them back.
Though more illiterate than ever, I just don’t relate to myself anymore.
---
If I could be less complicated:
If you please to stand in my way,
I am not willing to stop you.
The moon gave me cold chills again, warming my stomach like a child being comforted.
Peanut butter and crackers and microwaved cream.
I felt numb when you disappeared from my sight, but you looked beautiful in the short time you rested behind the trees.
I've stopped the dreams of winds, though I wish I could bring them back.

I seem to always be dizzy. On a ride, excited, yet highly dreading it at the same time. Wishing I could just shut everything down. Just wait for the right time, wait until I'm ready. I keep pushing, like running up a hill, you are dizzy, sick, tired... feel like you really can't push anymore, but you do. When your finished you're too tired to be proud or to look back at all. Sometimes you do just give up, then years later you find that it's still on your plate, that no one is going to rid you of the pain it carries. The people you love leave, the ones who leave progressively cause the most tears, indeed, but not the most pain.

You start to appreciate things, tend to not care that no one will hear that song you wrote or the words that you make. You find someone worth friendship and loose people you guessed were worth your time. You learn that your brain is wired differently, but yet you never cease to stop wishing for the person that will understand and be intrigued.

The end comes near and you don't really give anymore, empty words tend to come out of your mouth. You want nothing more than to be content, but often you find that being crazy was your last option. Your dreams stay the same while your conscious mind tries to trick you out of them. Your split personality starts to nip at your ankles until you swat it hard enough. It will be back by dinner.

key words.

Eventually things pull together.
thats all I have to say.

Check er out.

http://kateriot92.blogspot.com/

(she's the diggity poo)

How could I not recall who I talked to?
I’d been waiting for that dialogue long before you could have contemplated.
You’re wearing me down; I don't even use my soul anymore.
I don’t want to go back on stage and smile, but damn I can’t frown.
I used to fly I think, but I have no Idea why it was so nice.
I am taking off, I took off, why am I still durable here?
Where did it go, it disappeared?
A fine place to live, sure, I've got that.
How can each person be in motion right now? I can't believe what I see,
so boring, the world moved on without me.
I ate my dreams away; I worried myself to sleep perpetually.
I use so many exterior words, where is my connection. I am kind of fed up with how, who, why isn't this about you? Why don't I feel captivating in this enchantingly dark place?
Is it bad that I can't think of anything worth saying?

Treasure map.

It's like finding the pieces to a tresaure map, one piece might be small, and you might still seem out of hope after you recieve it, but then you find this HUGE piece. You know it must be almost half. Your excited. You suddendly have more hope than ever before. You love that one piece the most. It is the most treasurable to you. You love it so much it seems like the treasure itself, but don't get destracted by it. There is still the other parts. The parts that make that one piece so magical. Remember that once you find the rest of the map, that one piece won't be the world to you anymore. Don't forget that once you have found that the map led you to your treasure, the map will only be a memorable piece of paper. Almost like a picture. It won't be your everything anymore. Just like the people now. This family, they had to leave. I'm not a huge piece of there map, but a decent size chunk.. They have to move on to there next piece, as do I. Though they played a giant roll in my map, and I love them dearly, more than the pieces of the map that are nearly invisible to me now, sooner or later, they will just be a big part of a bigger picture. A memory. This is okay, there is no reason to be upset. Sooner or later it will all make since. I'll be sitting with my life treasures and then.. boom... life won't matter anymore. I'll die. I'll leave this earth. All that has happend will be finished for me. I will start a new life, have a new destany, and appriate but not grasp on to who you've been to me.
I love you, but I want you to make the best of yourself. Your doing the right thing, your a HUGE part of my life, and I hope I've helped you half as much as you have directed me to confidence and dreams, the layer of my life at the current time. Thank you for being my favorite part of the map and letting me make a real best friend along the way.

sail over the stars

My desire to be in love with you, my desire to be comfortable. It has came true. But My stronger desire to flow with the moon and the skyline has forced me to let go of any reality that was holding my dream together for us. I'm not sorry nor will I be when I'm alone following the moon to a wonderful place behind the sea's tucks and cubbyholes. I will find the end of the new year.. I will sail over the stars on a magical whim. Dancing unmeaningfully.

Clash

You can start out pondering one thing, being inspired, thinking, this is my type. This is where I fit in and clash with innocence… This is going to be great and… subdued.

You are in a completely different place. Another state of being, mind. Your memories are no longer real, though you long for them with the pit of your stomach, with that gauzy feather-like place some where under your skin between your eyes. You want to grasp them, no feeling within can illustrate how much you long for them, need them.

In a book I just read today, a character said this “it’s like a song, that you will never hear again. Your favorite song.” I could say it no different nor could I say it in a better way, for when you start to put behind you what you‘ve unintentionally lost, that song, it bites and kicks inside, begging for your attention, you need it and it needs you. You have it.., until a noise, until you notice, until a remark in some part of you brain, until you come back to revisit…except for when you need it most…except when you try. But if your soul finally says goodbye…there it is, kicking and screaming in the calmest way. It’s a tantrum for you, a peaceful tantrum.

Wings.

When you are wearing everything in life as an accessory, and put the sturdiest things on as shields, the things you control completely, things aren't supposed to hurt.

But what if wings where only an accessory in the beginning. and now.. they're my tool to freedom. A real part of my soul, and a huge enjoyment.

Well I lost my accessory, the most important one, the one I was so spoiled by, the one that taught me the most about success and freedom... About expression and self-worthiness.

So while the clouds hang waiting for miss scarlet to tickle them by zooming through the dew, I'll be setting here.. staring at them... missing the feeling of wet hair on my back and wind giving me goose bumps. I'll be looking up at them wishing that I could drift through them again and forget about the world, but without my wings, the best I have is memories.

I hope they understand why I don't whip through them and close my eyes feeling there happiness rapping around me anymore. I hope that they know I long for them just as much as they long for my smile, and I hope they know, I'll try to recruit someone who can love them as much as I did.

Hard to believe anyone could love them more than I do..did...I do.

I can't believe its happening.

Dear fatuous person,

I hate how such a dull, stupid person can just come and take things they don't even mean to. How someone unable to adapt to their circumstances, can dig deep without even meaning too. How they can make me think I'm going mad over something I own, and how they don't know that I like to keep the boat in the ocean. My boat, your ocean. You'll never own my boat, just like I'll never own your ocean. I love my boat more than I love the ocean or the land. I love my boat more than I love the planet, take one small thing when you have the ocean? I don't think so, because you have no control, when I am the eye of the storm. You officially have every right to stand still, because after all, you don't have near as much control as you think.

because

Cry in a rainstorm because you’re happy. Eat a banana because you are craving an orange. Laugh when it hurts. Sigh because you are hyper. Listen to techno because your craving folk. Play guitar because your annoyed. Walk because you wanna run. Run because you can fly. Find someone like you because you don’t think your like anyone else. Kiss the (FACE) cheek because you miss lips. Rewind forward?

I’m into that.

Just do that smile again.

Forget about the things surrounding you, think about the cold chills. You want to cry, Hold it back, later we are going to laugh. Take his hand, forget all the wrong in anything and dance like the end of the world is coming.

Regret is for past.
Love is for now.
Forget is for the future.

Broken isn’t in your category. Laugh it off, be tuff. ;)

mistake

Theres this thing. Called history. Yeah, so check this..I'm the big shot that can change history and I'm going to.

Okay your right. I full of ...balogna. But dosn't it sound nice?

Peace princess..

I felt correct placement. No need to be alone. I finally was free. The breeze finally caught my hair and the sun made me glow. I was a princess, a unique (not so royal) princess. Elegant but flaw full. And not to elegant. Just enough.

I brought out the good in everyone and cried only to God. I matched my settings but stood out enough to be noticed from blocks. I liked being alone, but not isolated.

The princess is coming back and would be delighted to go unnoticed.

In my life, there's "me" and then there's my shell.

And while the "me" part should be the most important, I gather happiness in my shell before I allow it to get to "me."

My shell holds all the things I have not yet came completely vulnerable to, as well as things that I have been vulnerable to and decided/was-pushed to re-evaluate the objectives of that/those plural noun(s).

My shell is my life. My "me" is my soul.
Though things are turning out for "me"..
My shell is looking ruff.

I know that there are places that have been worn over time in my shell.
Some of those places have let me become vulnerable to things that normally I'd learn to scold at bitterly...

I am learning to deal. "me" is growing. Learning. Shell is suffering and needs to be rebuilt. So now I'll transfer to the outside and look in. Now I will search as I can and learn from plural noun(s). I will be extremely vulnerable, but I must rebuild my shell. I must start over again.

I will still have the past. I will still reminisce, I will build slightly onto what I have learned...But I will toss my old shell. And I will make a new one that is stronger and shelters me more. I will find one that may not shine with natural beauty but can be painted over time to become interchangeable. I will sit in my filth for one more day, and then move on.

My shell is bruised but me???
I'm just dandy.

(I'm not loosing my shell to damage, I'm building a new shell for improvement.)

wanna trespass?

So it seemed a lot more complex(and maybe it even was) when it hit me, but today I realized... EVERYBODY has there own little world and they have it EVERYWHERE. (yep, I saw it in walmart..everyone feeling different you know??)

My dad was stopped by some old wrinkly people today at walmart..and they exchanged memories and thoughts about many different things, and I noticed...It really brought them back to that place and time...even to events they hadn't actually even witnessed. (of course I was observing this because to me.. these people were just my dads memories in a more wrinkly form maybe..) Every now and then I would dip my feet into there reminiscing pool.. but for the most part.. I just thought. Thought about what was going on..on the surface.

Dipping my feet in everybody's rivers, trying to understand why they were doing what they were doing... Some of the people looked like they had nothing on there minds but the product in hand, while others were involved with the person they were accompanying a bit more. I realized the reason being aware is a good thing when your in a bad mood... That's because everyone has there little town or even big world... but at the same time.. you may walk in there world (or town) sometime... and at the same time they could possibly walk in yours... and who is to say trespassing has to be bad??

If you want to run through someones field you have to know your limits, you have to hide your spray paint and you have to try love.
Jump on the bus?

Tonight.

I just want to let go. I want to rub dirt in my hair and rub my eyes with the back of my hands.

I want to stretch too much and laugh like I'm evil. I want to scream until I make myself sick and pull grass out of the earth,I'll try and attach it again. I want to rub my face in the dirt and kick rocks. I want to stand up real straight and bark back at the coyotes.

Tonight I want to let the wild out. I don't want to hold back ANYTHING. I can have the most amazing memorable Friday night...All by myself. And it's not gonna be pretty.

Tonight. I. Scream.

I want grit in my basket.

The rain is.. different, rain. Today tears have every right to take place under my eyes forming puddles on my pillow and forcing air out of my lungs as I notice I've now done it, I've now let go, and I know it's real now... But in the different rain I see mud puddles like a little, excited child with new rain boots might.

I'm not looking at the rain and thinking what a dreary day. I see lots of uncomfortable things out of the window, and I want to be a part of it. I'm not worried about the cold or my clothes. I'm not worried about what I might eat later or getting that loverly puncture in my skin to make way for that needle to pierce my vain again, I'm not worried. I just need to be a part of the rain.

I need to run and roll, not worrying about the result of it all. I need to throw mud and make a mess of myself. I need to believe no one is watching. I don't want a nice warm shower waiting for me, I don't want fleece p,j.'s folded up with there newly washed sent. I want to belong with the mud the dirt. The grit is all mine today and I want to be part of it. I want to laugh when no one can hear and scream and not have any idea. I want to wipe tears of my face with a muddy hand and touch every leaf on the tree. I want to lean against the bark and feel the texture of everything.

I'm craving texture and I'm in the need to fill my basket with something different. No more shiny crystals or nice comfy pj's, I wanna fill my basket with grit and make it look used. I want to make it mine and make no one else want it. I want to be alone with the dirt. With the texture. With the grit.

So I've been told.

That I'm a sarcastic little beast.
And
That I over-analize everything but what a average girl does.

I've been told I should put more into my human relationships,
Less into things that don't give back...
That is bull.

Relationships and giving back. ha.ha.
I don't believe that way.

God gives...nature. Nature gives off my happiness. I'll give to nature.
I'll give to God. I'll give to everyone. But I won't depend on anyone other than God who gave me nature. I apprishate that.

Dependent on the right things. So if you told me other words. Rethink.

Nah.

To be ashamed.
feeling shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. Remorse.
Circle embarrassment.

Jealous.
Thoughts. Feelings that occur. Valued relationships being threatened by a rival.
Circle Rival.

Get over it.
Circle nothing or it won't make sense.

Future

Underestimated words and a breeze that is the least bit tropical,
We're months away from the oceans and we live in the world.
Not as obvious as it used to be, not that it ever was.
I'm actually not oblivious, I notice everything that happens,
I'm only oblivious when it comes to a person. A people. You people.

I carry confidence buried just barley under skin cells,
I'm no longer far from the surface.
Sometimes like claws when we speak, you scratch, even when supporting me.
You dig, not scratch, but as you bring out my confidence, I become confused.
Though you bring it out to the surface you steel it all for yourself.

You make me sick.
You will make me well.

Night, remember the day.

Did you see that?
Summer just passed me.
I felt it.
The excitement stung my chest and shocked my hart.

Inhaled crisp fall air.
It circled me, tickling my back,
straightening my posture,
smile. If only for a moment before a puzzled confused look
sends you to winter.

You dare yourself to jump in the snow,
Your so close and
BOOM. It's gone, you didn't even get to feel it, though as
you enter spring your nose still feels nipped by the cold.

Laughter, and surrounding joy.
You have to smile. Have to.
The bird chirps and you know.

Tuff times pass,
and you have no idea that you still have the night to make it up.

Don't read ahead.

To the person who did not paint my colors,
To the person who did the worst damage to my confidence,
To the person who laughed when I was hurt,
To the person who changed their unfair mind in my soul,
To the person that took my wings away and held me down,
To the person that showed me I over analyzed everything,
To the person that told me what I didn't want to hear,
To the person that figured me out and doesn't even really know it.

To the person who brought out the colors I already had,
To the person who told me the cold, hard truth to help me out,
To the person who taught me to laugh when it stings,
To the person who showed me everything happens for a reason, worst can turn to best,
To the person that made me take the right path, even if it took force,
To the person that showed me how to use my annoying values to my advantage,
To the person that told me things that REALLY changed everything for me,
To the person that taught me, this is who you where meant to be, without a word.

Your my best friend.
I love you buddy.

Together in the end?

You'll teach me and for once,
I'll be okay with that. I'll surrender to that.

I'll forget all the other worlds I was in as you tell me something off subject.
You'll flash that smile and I might laugh.
You'll make brownies that look goofy.

I'll probably push you down a hill.
You'll be freezing,
I'll be quite for a minute as I realize the way snow crunches from under me.
I'll feel heavy, lay down, and roll down the hill.
The wind will chap my face and I'll think of a random Disney character to speak about.

Come up with a mouth full of snow and a pout.
You'll laugh at me and I'll throw a snow ball at you.
I'll play "can't touch me" for weeks, days and hours.

You'll smile.

I'll get the hot chocolate going, and you'll push the chairs by the fire.
Once again I will giggle, but this time halt and look at you.

The fire will crackle and with time I will fall even farther and farther into a trance set by the nature we surround ourselves with.
I'll steal your burdens and feed them to the moon.
Our purity will fill the room.
And our innocence will smile. I think I will too.

because I know more than one way.

One day holding hands in the beginning.

I desire that guarantee feeling I wish I could give to you. I could say-so. I’d verbalize it, “here I am, take it or leave it, the way I do.”

No joke. I won't rupture the way some do and I won't cause discomfort often. I'm fixable with a flower or two and some cool air. It won't take long to get me to smile and I don't need all the rage these worldly days.

On occasions I grow to be more precious though you didn't know I was capable and I will hold my mug and sway back and forth by the fire while you sing the confession of falling to me and I will watch you fingers strum against the strings to you guitar, you’ll teach me, and laugh at me when you start to see I really am musically challenged. I will laugh. I will journal on the floor and cuddle only with my blanket.

Get me?

Out of context.

One headphone. no. NOT headphones.
Head.Phone. one headphone.

I hate how that is all that your good at anymore.
I saw so much more in you than that.
I guess I shouldn't have expected.
Expecting is bad for us all.

Not just some of us. But the PURITY, the excitement of it all.
But then I'm overly frustrated and it all makes perfect since,
I can't leave but I want to leave.

It's not an option but it NEEDS to be...
before I know it though..there I am ..forgiving you.
Again.

Eventually, I'll never be done.
Eventually, was a week ago.
You think that I am using my words out of context,
but I mean just what I said.

Hey, maybe I'm out of context today.
You don't get it do you?

Lost in the time, of time, in the lock of the world, in which, I lost time.

You don't understand because your not suppost to. Becasue I don't want you to I suppose. Because it's crazy personal. CRAZY. but I need to get it out, is it out?

The wind kisses me in a way that is peaceful, not seductive

I feel the passion I'm crazy thankful for.

I adore it.

I feel the wind in my hair and the soft grass under my feet. The strong air enters my lungs and I can't help but finding the place that I want to be in life.

It's my real pleasure.

It's great. It's not better, it's best.

It's to good for words, and great for breathing.

Lovely for sprinting. I'm IN love with it, I'm passionate about it, and you can't take it away.

CAN'T.

The wind kisses me in a way that is peaceful, not seductive, all I can do is love.

That is what makes me the free spirited kid I am.

starting

Starting its time it runs..loosing its time it becomes more elegant.

Elegance is it's "Thing"

Stubbornness is its pride. Really.

I and my is often how the sentence may start with a creature so fine, finer than the finest silk...Silkier than the softest liquid.

Just like the silk it runs through my fingers, but never lingers through my palms, yet in my soul.

organization.

Can you accept this as true? I truthfully got all that done?
Honestly, I can't.

I've pinched myself to make certain I'm not in a dream,
As far as I can distinguish, I'm not.

I mean, two days ago, I was yank the hair out of my head stressed.
Currently?

I'm happy-go-lucky.

Oh the enchantment of organization.

in with the out

Everyday I take in environment,
Everyday I gain a little more inspiration when my feet sink in soil.

When I'm in, I carry out all around me. I fill myself up like I I was meant to be solid. The wind is my freedom, the cold, my night.

I thrive on tolerance and freedom, I embrace it with my being, Leave me here, I'll hum and sing while my drapes brush against the very top of the water, I'll sleep and wake as fresh as the beginning, I'm just as much or more without you.

I can move with the wind.

Peace

Gold. Soft and strong.

I don't see my reflection,
yet a soft no-numbered girl.

I have no past, not that I want to look back on anyway.
Not that it is bad.. I'm just, simply not interested.

Why would I be? I have all I need surrounding me.

The blades of grass are more pleasant than silk, to feel the grass connects me to the moon and my heart.

The key is in the stars,
to my left, I haven't found it,
I've felt it.

It holds together my being,though I don't know it,
it knows me. I it knows I love it,
though I question it, it searches me.

Solid as I fill.

Mr.Sun

Reveal aspirations to me.
possess it and make it a necessity.
Follow me as I dash through the woodland.
Take off your advantage.
Shoes.

You won't fancy them here.

tell my catal how pleasant they are.
Turn cold to heat.
Heat to spring.
Spring to life.

Turn.
Nowhere.

Challenge.
Mr.sun and value I will grant you.

Don't suppose that you will comprehend or nurture this.
or my me.

Halt my companion.

My feet are sinking into the asphalt.
because I am running into lavender laundry detergent.

Over and OVER again.

Bestow your last drops of pink lemonade.
It hurts your throat anyways.
You should go get your ice water.
shouldn't you?

Disregarded feeble... you.

I fell and scraped me knee.
It didn’t ache.

I let the iciness numb my body.
I respected it.

I allowed the wind to chap my face.
It reminds me of poca-freaking-haun-isse

You lied.
I have hysterics. You only gave me adrenalin.

You lay there. pitiful.
Get up, I say.

Weak and fragile.
You.

So, I’m sorry.
I didn’t realize it all.

Just. business

You ran away with my wings.
You carried them on your bareback all the way to the slaughterhouse.
Just like the souls you never accepted as true.

You were certain they couldn't feel.
I’m convinced you can't.

Jerk.

Your:
definition;
Fill in the blank.

Though it will never be complete.
You are blank.

I don't grasp who you are.
Almost certain your me.
Perhaps not the foundation of it all.
but now..I'm holding you accountable.

Blame.

Ugly freakin' commerce.
I should stop.
But you gave me my license too.

stubborn

She said.
jfkjdkajfkdja fjkdja fd ak

I said.
Ha.

He said.
KDFJKDJAKFJDA FDKAJ.

I said.
NO.

She said.
ahfdkajfkdjakjfkdj fkdja fkd.

I said.
Let me tell you this.


I hear.
WRONG.

He hears.
Curse words.

I say.
Nevermind.

He.
Listens.

She says.
Sorry.

And I just now noticed..
It was prolly my bad.

get passed it all.

My tired eyes go back and forth between dark and light.
My changing temperature is keeping me confused and dizzy.
and yet...

I just don't care.

I eat a banana, drink some water and move on with my day.

So why don't we...
Get over it. Chomp on some prayer, be refreshed and relieved and go on with life.

Us silly humans we are. Silly I tell you.

cold beauty

My tired eyes go back a forth between dark and light. 
My changing temperature is keeping me confused and dizzy.
The cold nips at my nose and the dark creeps.                                                                                         The trees that usually comfort me and shelter me as I cry, hang and haunt me as I back away.

What is wrong with me? I mean..yes I'm ill, but am I sick? That sick?
Something moves and jolt. The moon is covered by the clouds that I usually call beautiful...because..
I forgot. I didn't remember. I didn't acknowledge and I didn't think.                                                              I'm sorry..Please let me see you and let me free once again. 

Bare foot and running through the woods.

I promise you I will never be the girl who was to practical. I promise.

I'm never alone. Ever.

But I like to sit with God.

My temple is being ruined.

I ate a hot pocket today. Groosssssssssss!

Clash

I hung my head. I went to the library. I started cleaning. I cleaned till you couldn't see me anymore. I became invisible. I hung my head once more.
I just stood there. Stood there in the library and cried. You, of course, will never know this..
I picked it up. That invisible thing. The one thing I choose to be so vague about.I listened to you. To you gripe and scream and grind your teeth.
I bit down to close the words screaming from my chest. I looked at you. I realized. We clash.
Ha. Isn't it funny. How I clash like that with almost everyone that I love? You have no idear do you.
Did you see that glance? Or were you being to oblivious to notice the things under your eyes and level with your nose?
So I'll sit in the middle of the street. and smile.
Forget.Breathe.Hold.Let go.
Letting go.
Gone.

s

Peace.

You say.
Peace out.
Peace dog.
Peace.

But really.
Whats it mean to ya?

Death.
You see it on the boob-tube..
You hear about it.
You read it.
You talk it.
You fake it.
You...what?
It's sad> deppressing huh?

Love.
You have examples.
You were told to try it out.
You know what you think it is.
You love.

Murder.
You see it on the boob-tube..
Its scary.
It's put on movies..for entertainment?

Love. Peace.
What do they mean now?

Death. Murder.
Does it hurt?

So everything seems fake to you?

peace.

my mouth said what???

So do you ever have words that just keep coming.

Simplicity is beautiful.

Simplicity is beautiful.

When everything is simple. You can't help but love life.

When everything seems so tiny..

and you are so freakin' not observant at all.

That..THAT..
Is livin' it up..

When you are pretty and you could be all..IN YOUR FACE with it..
but instead ... you just don't care.

When you are comfortable..But you don't worry about how you weren't all IN YOUR FACE.
When 45 min. is more than enough in the morning.

Coffee..
When the smell of your morning coffee is enough to make you think, today will be a great freaking day.



When you dream of walking.

Yeah.

I'm happy.
Oh so freakin' happy.
Don't you wish you were as happy as I?

I'm happy. so freakin' happy.
I like to be so happy.

I am so happy.

People wear ugly shoes.

But I am happy.
oh so happy.

I am a happy little child. I am so happy.
Oh so freakin' happy.


That kid is wearing tube socks.

I am so happy. so freakin' happy.

SI am happy.

I like happy.

It's there.

Stop. Stop until you feel somthing.
HA.

This feeling of anxiety.
I hate it.
It's addiction..

It pulls you in...
It paints purple under your eyes.
Makes falling asleep feel so valuable.

GO, GO, GO. Read til' you feel somthing..
Ha. Ha.

This feeling. This emotional high.

It's HAPPYNESS.

It loves you.
You love it.

It makes things so valuable.
and sleep so cheap.

LOVE.

You see it.
Now you don't.
BUT it's there.

You play games.
Love is sollid.

It loves you.


Because...after all..it is love.


It's that.
Your hand floats a graseful mess over the grass.

or

You notice that your being shaded by the tree that hangs over your head gracefully.

Everytime.

Every time. EVERY TIME.

yes..I just yelled...

Okay no i didn't.


I need to be positive.

Life's hard right now.

Oh what the heck.
I should suck it up.

I will.

Lets talk.


About what?

About how I'm angry?

Nope.


Why would we?
That would be silly.


Lets talk about fall.
I love the fall.

Its pretty.

It's good.

fall..mmm..


winter.


today is the first day of November.

a good day so far.



I'm hungry.


DARNIT.


I went all October..with no pumpkin pie.


shimoog.


shimooog a jizzims.

er.


Lennon.

Is he mad at me?



He seems ticked?



hmm.


oh well.


fall.
I love fall...


I'm sorry if your reading this.

It's boring.

I'm boring sometimes.


Nah. jk.



I could be.


but I am not.
not to me.


Maybe to you..


Not to me.


I don't really get bored.

Not unless I'm stuck inside a building.


I like the cold.


Do you>?

Jonna doesn’t..
Do you Jonna?



I like winter.
I like coco.


It's time to eat.


I like food.
FOodddd is good.


yum.


I want food.


hmmm...


Hot coco.


hot coco is good.



I wish I had someone to drink hot coco with.


I always cry when I drink hot coco...



no.



not always.


Just lately..



I am angry with myself.



I cry to much lately..



I don't take interest in anything..


But I swear to you I think I'm happy.


I am.



Happy that is.



Just I’m gonna miss him.




People.


I'm not happy with people.


Life. I love life.


I am happy with life..


Just not people.


But who gives.



Lately I learned that the people are so not that important to my happiness.


I cry only because of love.


not break.



I love my friends.


I love my family.



People make mistakes.


I don't believe in expectations.



Believe that people do the best in the circumstances they are in.


He's ticked.


I DON'T CARE.


really..



I'm not lying.


Its a pinky promise.


love you.

Different hopes and purpleie dreams I cannogt fathom what mister seems. I don't like big fat ones but not tiney eather I'm not talking about you I'm talking about a teeter. A teetter is a special pet, one you never take the the vet. I like my little teeter I'ma gonna name it peeter. bye bye..I gotta fly.

Bringing sexy back.. 9-24-07 10:42

On my birthday I party like its ninety and a half. And I do the funky chicken as i bow my face and laugh, I like purple strips and blue eyed phony signs I like 100 nasty chickens and a foamy bubble bath. I like to scream purple really loud and laugh at people on my cloud, I like funky wood and tee's, sometimes I sting bumble bee's and die and I honestly don't really know why, I like to publish stupid letters and wear ugly sweaters

LETS GO BACK...
Old post..My favorite.

Flower..

Its a flower. It is red. it is orange. and it is also yeller. It's a flower...I know this. For sure. I took the picture don't argue with me. It really is..I would know...YES IT IS. IS TOO. UH HUH. I WIN. END OF DISCUSSION. i DO to WIN!!!! Shut up. You know I'm right.

sarah and TYES poem

My stomach clenches as I feel the agony of yesterdays dinner.
I know once I lay this one down im sure to be thinner,
Did I hear a plop? Oh crap it keeps on coming and it’s impossible to stop.
I’m moaning and grinding my teeth I know I shouldn’t have ate all that beef.
It was green and a whole week old but now I’m feeling the grief.
GOSH DANGIT I SHOULDN’T HAVE ATE THAT BEEF.

Papaw called in to see if I was fine, I told him there was evil stuff coming from my behind. He thought that I was joking so he opened the door to come inside, He said “OH MY” with a sniff and took a big wiff, that’s how my papaw died.
He fell to the ground, and spit out his teeth,
GOSH DANGIT I SHOULDN’T HAVE ATE THAT BEEF.


Now I am sad, oh crap here comes my dad, Only if he knew.
Daddy please beleave me when I tell you this ain’t normal poo!!
He wanted the shampoo and there was nothing I could do. He opened the door and died like papaw, right on the floor.
GOSH DANGIT I SHOULDN’T HAVE ATE THAT BEEF.



Sure enough mom wanted the blush and only she would ask me to flush.
I did wat she asked then the nasty poo passed and now I got gas!!! Oh no what should I do, Hey I farted in my underwear..I think I felt poo.
GOSH DANGIT I SHOULDN’T HAVE ATE THAT BEEF.