Threadbare Soldier

| losing it |

{ warning: this is probably going to be hard to follow and a tad scattered. here’s my apology in advance. *shrug* sorry. }

people have always sat across from me and told me that I was incredibly focused for my age. they told me that I was mature, thoughtful, and really knew where I was headed. then they paused, thoughtfully, and reminded me that it’s rare for a young person to have such a strong head on their shoulders.

the truth? I feel like I’m losing that. I’m aimless, wandering, and very unremarkable nowadays.

I just don’t know, anymore. about anything. I’m no longer that gung-ho, I-can-do-anything youngster. I hate that adulthood has stripped that twinkle from my eye. in fact, I think it’s downright ridiculous, and (if I’m being ruthlessly honest) I feel a strong measure of shame about it. I know that shame will only continue to hinder me from doing great things. I know that, but can’t make my heart understand it nor shrug out from under its crazy heavy mantle.

so no, I don’t know where I’m going, and I don’t know where I’ll end up. it doesn’t frighten me as much as it gives me sorrow somewhere deep inside of me. I’ve begun wishing I could unsay things, so that maybe people wouldn’t have such high expectations, and maybe I wouldn’t have to be so disappointed in myself when I don’t meet them.

the idea of becoming americanized, of becoming a pretty housewife with pretty children, of working in an average job surrounded by average people.. that terrifies me. it makes my bones tremor, the idea that I’ll have talked a big game and done nothing for God. that when I stand in front of him he might say..

“so, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth,”

“many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’ then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. away from me, you evildoers!’“

I struggle, plain and simple. and some days I feel like I’ve got no idea what’s going on.

{ post script: I realize that I probably seem bipolar from one post to the next. I’m not, I promise. I’m just contemplative. take it or leave it. }

| twitterlicious |

I can’t do it. just can’t do it.

I’ve tried to keep up with twitter. tweeting, retweeting, whatever, and I can’t force myself to be interested enough to update mine or stay up to date with other’s. so I count this venture failed, and somehow that doesn’t really bother me. I’ve got my paws in enough social outlets.. it’s not like I need or want another. so goodbye twitter, it was fun trying.

oh, but I’ll keep my twitter, because @shitmydadsays and @fireland are hilarious. (:

| musician of my hour: frédéric chopin |

this is where my true nerdiness outs itself. eh, who am I kidding, you already know I’m a nerd.

:: meet frédéric chopin ::

meet frédéric chopin. (p.s., I’m fairly certain this is one of the only pictures they have of him. looks stern, eh?) he’s one of my favorite composers, especially in his solo piano pieces. classical (specifically piano) music has always been a crutch for me. whenever I’m having a particularly stressful or awful day, a piano piece can quickly de-stress me. I think part of the reason why I run to chopin’s pieces more often than any other composer is because most of his pieces are written for only the piano (which I love), and they’re so passionate and real. to be honest, sometimes they sound like he just sat down at a piano and improvised his way through a song. his pieces aren’t easy to play, by any means, but they’re not as flashy (in my opinion) as some of the other pieces written for the solo piano. they’re more soulful, utilizing full range of sound and subtle nuances to fill the pieces out. as lame as it is, his pieces often make me emotional.

as of late, I’ve been drawn to the soundtrack from The Pianist; it features a few nocturnes (something chopin was fairly famous for), a few ballades and a waltz and mazurka for good measure. anyways, at least give one a try, even if you’re not a classical nut. please? you’d be surprised how calmed and focused it can make you.

| homemade, handmade, and made with love |

so I know I’ve promised pictures of things when I’ve finished making them, and I’ve been horrible at following through. so just to whet my own guilt, here’s a few pictures from the things I made for christmas. remember, I was going handmade last year.. and it nearly killed me. (: though people did love their yummy presents even more than usual. anyways, click the photos to see a larger version.

Another great product from Cincopa Send Files. Also read about Cincopa best wordpress plugins for your website.

oh, I made this nifty notebook/notepad thing for hallie for her birthday (it’s kind of awesome, if I do say so myself) that I was going to put a picture up of, but she’s temporarily lost it. she assures me that “no no, I didn’t lose lose it. it just wasn’t where I thought it would be.” we’ll see.

happy friday. oh, and I can’t guarantee you homemade presents this christmas. I might be a tad too busy to knit my little heart out.

| write about it: week 7 |

wow. week 7? I’m so committed it’s making me tear up. (: little do you know, there are actually a lot of things I do regularly on thursdays now. most of it has to do with the fact that I write in mostly the same way, in mostly the same place, mostly around the same time. one of my must-haves? a gigantic soda from the valero down the street. (I mean, come on.. 69 cents for any size?) so yes, I ran out this morning to get mine before I started writing.

: { unhealthy? probably. do I care? nope. }

I’ve been trying to loosen up my writing a little.. trying to steer away from the always strict, predictable style. this is going to be a free write at its rawest, because I feel like it. it’s unedited, possibly schizophrenically hard to follow, but honest. lower your expectations and preconceived notions please; it’ll help.

today’s free write comes courtesy of the thoughts that started rolling around in my head after rereading a small tidbit from a book I just finished – the alchemist – that was recommended by a dear friend of mine, and a quote by a wise man that reminds us that ultimately, all of writing is either about love or death. here’s to hoping that this ends better than it’s started.. cause I’ve gotten up and sat back down about fifteen times since I’ve started. yeah, you could say I’m having a hard time staying on task.

“This is what we call love,” the boy said, seeing that the wind was close to granting what he requested. ” When you are loved, you can do anything in creation. When you are loved, there’s no need at all the understand what’s happening, because everything happens within you, and even men can turn themselves into the wind. As long as the wind helps, of course.” –the alchemist

>>><<<

Heart hit ground, when her ribcage and iron will was supposed to be keeping it safe. She was unready, unsure, and slightly terrified. Lip-biting, hair-twisting, distracted but so focused on his face so close to hers. Smooth lines, and suddenly she was lost. The concentration etched so firmly in the lines on her forehead melted, but it took her resolve with it. She wasn’t sure if she was still standing, still breathing, still talking? Words were slipping between pursed lips and a clenched jaw, and she was powerless to stop them. She could barely hear them, but her cheeks flushed anyways, sure she was being foolish. Again. And there, a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. She grasped at her control and yanked on it hard, reiging in her no-longer trustworthy mouth just in time to feel his lips brush hers. Lips to heart, she fell again, harder still. Walls she’d so carefully built around her heart began crumbling, the stillness in his eyes a wrecking ball, his hand on her neck stripping it away brick by pathetic brick. Involuntarily breathing harder, feeling faint, losing touch with sounds of the world around her. Another brush of the lips, and he wrapped his arms around her so tight, too tight, not tight enough, she didn’t know — didn’t care. Eyes wide open, and she tried to shut them tight, nose scrunching with her last flimsy attempt at composing herself. He let her go, and she thought she’d made it, held on to a tiny shred of self-preservation, and then his eyes found hers. His hand found the oversensitive line of her jaw, and she didn’t know which was taking her heart captive — the sweet way he told her he loved her, or the untamed, unhinged, raw emotion not even trying to hide in his deep, dark eyes — but she knew, with a final grasp at solidarity, that he’d wrecked her. And somehow she didn’t mind.

time’s up. I’m satisfied. you?

| helter-skelter, topsy-turvy, out-of-whack |

that’s me today.

it’s hard to find words to explain how i feel today, probably because they’re all swimming around my head bumping into each other like ungraceful fish. (are fish ever ungraceful?) maybe more like swans before they become graceful, or like a whole mess of ugly ducklings.

i’ll give it a rousing try anyways, because it’s amusing to see what i can come up with, and because if i don’t try now, i’ll never try. and we all know keeping things bottled up leads to that inevitable, ugly foaming over effect.. you know, like your soda. (phew, good luck trying to convince people you’re not crazy after this, kaylen.)

i feel like.. i’ve been scooped up out of my life and plopped into someone else’s. like the joke’s on me, like i’m perpetually forgetting something that’s crazy important. i’m thoroughly confused and out-of-whack; walking through my average, simple day like i’m fighting to see two feet ahead of me through palpably thick fog. my head hurts, madly. i don’t care about grammar, or spelling. i don’t ever want to wear anything besides t-shirts and jeans. i don’t want to want things.

when all’s said and done, the only music i can stand today is iron & wine (the shepherd’s dog, specifically) and the soundtrack from the pianist.

this is playing & this is next.

I’m not sure what’ll snap me out of it. good food? good conversation? good solitude? *shrug* who knows..

| attached at the... hand? |

my faaaavorite notebook my notebook is precious to me. it goes everywhere, and it’s seen everything. it saves me from writer’s block and saying things I’d later regret. it’s my safe haven, and is never critical. it doesn’t care if my poetry sucks, my prose is misspelled, or how hard I scribble on the page. it doesn’t mind my indecision, my crises of faith, or my whole-hearted, half-minded proclamations of love. it’s probably a tad unnatural, how I need to have it near me always, but if I’m being honest, I don’t actually care. my favorite brand? moleskine. the regular one, lined, or the reporter’s notebook, lined. (i’m not a blank-page kind of girl.. I get sidetracked and a.d.d. if I don’t have lines.) anyways, finishing a notebook gives me this strange feeling of euphoria. *shrug* I don’t know.. I like it. I like looking back, too, though sometimes it’s too painful. /:

| thank God |

…thank God for small mercies.

i’mma be honest. there are lots of small things that cheer me. lots of tiny, seemingly insignificant things, words, and moments that I don’t give credit to, but that round out the harsh edges of my heart and bring a fragment of color where there was only ugly shades of grey. it’s time to give them their due respect.

in the past three days: the sense of sublime comfort that my bed and blankets give me; that tiny contented sigh that escapes when a song’s lyric puts words to something I couldn’t; combining words in unusual ways; that fluttery heart feeling, and its subsequent reckless contentedness; that moment that you realize that everything might just be alright; lips that aren’t chapped, thanks to finding my favorite chapstick; finding something so funny that you grin and laugh without meaning to; the last sip of a great cup of coffee; finding myself not at a loss for words; someone I don’t know telling me that I’m beautiful, and meaning it; getting the answer right, no matter how inconsequential the question was; having enough dollars in the bank to lend when it’s needed; singing along with a song I forgot I loved; reading the last page of a novel twice because finishing it is bittersweet; not letting fear clamp my mouth and heart shut; and remembering that someone will love me even if I really blow it.

*sigh* indeed, thank God for small mercies.

| musician of my hour: ingrid michaelson |

she’s the most-played on my iPod right now, and it’s probably because she’s infectiously cheery when she sings.

:: meet ingrid michaelson ::

meet ingrid michaelson. she’s talented through and through. started playing piano at age 4, studied it all through school, has a degree in theatre, etc. but those aren’t reasons I like her. she’s definitely unique, and though she’s been a little overplayed, I enjoy listening to the rest of her albums. I usually keep her playing while I’m writing, oddly enough, because she’s quirky, her lyrics are so plainly inventive, and she cheers me up. majorly. take a listen. warning: the first one makes me grin like an idiot, so if you’re listening at work or in a public place, just be aware people might end up looking at you oddly.

| the crazies |

{ the crazies. fear thy neighbors. }

I love horror movies. I love the whole wide spectrum of ‘em.. horror, gore, slasher, suspense, horrible german-subtitled psychological thrillers that you mute and make up lines for, and regular psychological thrillers (not as funny, but just as entertaining). there aren’t many people who will watch them with me though, unfortunately. too many people are only into one type, or can’t see the humor in the really crappy ones, so it’s hard to find a good scary movie buddy.

that being said, I’ve got a pretty good one right now. my aunt goes with me to most scary movies, and this weekend will be no exception. we’re going to see the crazies, which I only recently realized is a remake of a 1973 version. so I think I’m gonna pop over to blockbuster and grab the old one and watch it before our saturday matinee. (oh how I love matinees.)

do you like horror movies? seen any really great ones lately?

[ blogroll ]

[ books on tap ]