There's this school. Just down the road from University of Tennessee; this is my college. It's jsut as big as the former. The football field is huge; the zoo is right behind it. My college was built upon Chilhowee Park, as I figure out, since the fair was deemed unsafe for all who particiapte in it. Now, the Jacob building is the library, there are lecture halls built where vendors sold their footlong corndogs and saratoga chips. This is my college, home of the red and white. There's a football game, crowds cheer and the announcer screams over the intercom; we're beating our inner city rival--the Volunteers. Or at least, so we think.There's an explosion-huge-right by my ear. Everything goes black as the amused cheers turn to frightened screams.
"Where's little Susie!"
"Mom! No!"
Screams, everywhere. Everything's black. I can't open my eyes. I can't move anything.
Black.
Nothingness.
Suddenly, I hear animal noises. Bat screeches and panther growls. I slowly open my eyes as I realize I'm alive. I survived the bombing. And I'm in animal hell. I realize I'm in a trailer laying down on a trashed couch. I rise up and see a lady standing by a stove, stirring noodles as she smokes her cigarette.
"Hey there, suga, you got quite a knock on the head."
"Yeah...I guess I did," I reply, rubbing my head. "Where am I?"
"I'm one of the zookeepers. I brought you here, to my home. It's only a trailer, and alot of the sick animals live with me, but it's something." She continued stirring her noodles, adding a dash of salt. I looked around to see an array of animals. A panther was playing with a raccoon in the floor oddly enough and a bat hung precariously from the ceiling. There was a parrot perched atop a camel's head, and an otter waved to me from the kitchen sink.
This was crazy, ludacris...this can't just be.I can't..this can't be real.
I stood, putting a hand out to balance myself so I wouldn't fall. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my arm, piercing the skin as I yelped a plea for help. The zookeeper rushed over, grabbing a syringe that had been laying on the table.
"Don't worry, honey, little Dracula here didn't mean to bite ya."
Oh please God, don't let her be serious. Vampires can't be real too....
She took my arm and wedged her finger between my arm and the bat's mouth and slowly pulled up. I cringed as I saw the venom-coated fangs being pried out of my arm. There were two slits, pouring blood, left from where the bat's teeth had been. The lady blew smoke into my face as she injected a gel into the slits. A burning sensation swept my arm as I realized it was an anti-venom to save me.
Lord, help me, I had to have anti-venom or I would turn into a vampire.....
"There ya go, suga. I'll go lock up Dracula, he doesn't seem to like you."
The lady grabbed the bat and took him to a back room.
I had to get out of here. I had to. I looked around and saw the front door, my only chance of escape. I took the opportunity while she was putting up the vampire in disguise to escape. I ran out the door, watching as two of the animals bounded after me. Something else bit me, the same spot where the vampire thing had. It dug into my skin, biting to the bones.
She wants these animals to kill me!
I screamed once more and swung my arm wildly in a vain attempt to get the animal off of me. Everything's gone crazy, nothing is right. I'm confused, everything's vague.Cigarette lady is back, taking "Mr. Purrs" off my arm. There is nothing I can do, I can't do a single thing to escape this world. I can't escape. Nothing makes sense and I can't escape.
And I know...this is only the beginning....
Monday, October 19, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I'm Not Insane
Where am I?
I was going fast, winding through long white corridors. They're taking me away. They're locking me up.
White walls, padded, just for safety.
I slowly turned my head left and right. I saw the doctor walking beside me, limping on his cane.
He was telling people to run tests, analyzing my symptoms.
Symptoms? Where am I? Who is he?
I looked down, seeing the device in my hand. It was blinking at me, asking me if I was okay. I typed back I was okay, watching as it sent my words.
Tell him, tell him they're locking you up. He'll come save you. He can fight them off.
We raced down the hallways, passing the women in white.
No, they'll see. They'll know. They'll lock you up.
Where am I?
The man with the cane, he looked to me, answered my unvoiced question.
You're pregnant. You fell. Now it's my job to figure out why.
I nodded very smally, turning away from him and looking at the blinking light in my lap.
I saw the bump, the little foot kicking out and I remembered.
I was pregnant. I was in the hospital, the blinking in my lap was from my phone, the words from the baby's father.
They whisked me into an elevator, and all was lost again.
The Dojo Master.
He was here, he was at the parking lot entrance. He could save me.
Why was he here though? Shouldn't he be teaching kids karate?
No, he's a hallucination. Don't say anything, they'll lock you up.
The man with the cane popped a handful of pills into his mouth. I recognized the man, but couldn't place where he was from. The elevator doors opened, and down more long hallways we go. I can hear ladies screaming, a baby or two crying.
What are they doing to these people?
They told me to sit in the green chair, wait for the nurse.
They are. They are admitting you.
I stared down at the tag on my wrist, scared.
I haven't spoken in so long, when the lady asks me what happened, I can't tell her.
I don't know what really happened.
It was hot.
I was hot.
I hear a woman tell the nurse I fell, and she caught me. My heart rate was high, worried about the baby.
He kicked me, then, bringing me back into the world.
I touched my stomach, as they made me change. Flimsy gown, hard bed. A tv with no sound.
The phone blinked again, he said he can't come.
I roll over, a tear in my eye.
You're pregnant. You're in a hospital.
I can hear the baby's heartbeat.
He's okay, the baby's okay. You will be okay.
I'm tired, I want to sleep. But afraid of the man with the cane coming back, afraid the long scary corridors will become my reality again. I watch the tv without any sound, scared, but suppressing it, it wasn't real.
I'm not insane.
I was going fast, winding through long white corridors. They're taking me away. They're locking me up.
White walls, padded, just for safety.
I slowly turned my head left and right. I saw the doctor walking beside me, limping on his cane.
He was telling people to run tests, analyzing my symptoms.
Symptoms? Where am I? Who is he?
I looked down, seeing the device in my hand. It was blinking at me, asking me if I was okay. I typed back I was okay, watching as it sent my words.
Tell him, tell him they're locking you up. He'll come save you. He can fight them off.
We raced down the hallways, passing the women in white.
No, they'll see. They'll know. They'll lock you up.
Where am I?
The man with the cane, he looked to me, answered my unvoiced question.
You're pregnant. You fell. Now it's my job to figure out why.
I nodded very smally, turning away from him and looking at the blinking light in my lap.
I saw the bump, the little foot kicking out and I remembered.
I was pregnant. I was in the hospital, the blinking in my lap was from my phone, the words from the baby's father.
They whisked me into an elevator, and all was lost again.
The Dojo Master.
He was here, he was at the parking lot entrance. He could save me.
Why was he here though? Shouldn't he be teaching kids karate?
No, he's a hallucination. Don't say anything, they'll lock you up.
The man with the cane popped a handful of pills into his mouth. I recognized the man, but couldn't place where he was from. The elevator doors opened, and down more long hallways we go. I can hear ladies screaming, a baby or two crying.
What are they doing to these people?
They told me to sit in the green chair, wait for the nurse.
They are. They are admitting you.
I stared down at the tag on my wrist, scared.
I haven't spoken in so long, when the lady asks me what happened, I can't tell her.
I don't know what really happened.
It was hot.
I was hot.
I hear a woman tell the nurse I fell, and she caught me. My heart rate was high, worried about the baby.
He kicked me, then, bringing me back into the world.
I touched my stomach, as they made me change. Flimsy gown, hard bed. A tv with no sound.
The phone blinked again, he said he can't come.
I roll over, a tear in my eye.
You're pregnant. You're in a hospital.
I can hear the baby's heartbeat.
He's okay, the baby's okay. You will be okay.
I'm tired, I want to sleep. But afraid of the man with the cane coming back, afraid the long scary corridors will become my reality again. I watch the tv without any sound, scared, but suppressing it, it wasn't real.
I'm not insane.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Caty's Creek: Chapter Three: Memories from Long Ago
Okay, for those who haven't made it to FictionPress or heard about my story, Caty's Creek, you might want to head on over there and read the first two chapters before you read this. This is chapter three of the story, as so obviously stated in this post's title. So, let me continue on with the story..
Caty's Creek
Chapter Three: Memories from Long Ago
Elyse's POV
I sat there wondering how it all could have happened. Was it really ten years ago? A full decade? It seemed like only yesterday I sat at her memorial service, sandwhiched between Mom and Dad, the horrible flashbacks going through my mind. We had the ceremony at the base of the creek; the treacherous waters that claimed my sister was the loudest guest. It was stormy, a perfect cliche for a memorial service of a little girl's death, a horrible tragic death that there was nothing anyone could have done.
But me.
I always thought that if we hadn't gone out to the creek, hadn't scaled the mountain behind our house, hadn't played in the creek...she'd be here. She'd be fifteen now, chatting wildly with me about the hottest boy in school, or how she wanted to go to the winter formal later on this year. She wouldn't have been claimed by the creek if I had sucked up my pride and let her beat me in CandyLand. It was her favorite game, and we would have played for hours. She would continually beat me, and before long, we'd have dinner, watching out the kitchen window at the pouring rain. Later that night, instead of being at the bottom of every fall, being embeded into the banks of the creek, she'd be in my bed, with her little teddy bear and blanket, listening to me tell her what the thunder was. It wasn't just loud noise, I'd tell her, it was God, playing bowling with little Jesus. She'd learn that night the rain was just God's gardener's watering the Earth, God's little garden. The lightning was just the flash of a camera as people took pictures of Jesus. I'd tell her not be scared at all about the thunderstorm, and she'd fall asleep in my bed. We'd wake up and eat pancakes, we'd bake cakes on our birthdays. We'd continue our childhood. I'd still have a little sister, I wouldn't be an only child.
Everyone acted different from then on. Caty's birthday wasn't a joyous occasion each year, as it should have been. It was mournful, sad, a time of grieving. My friends acted different, they'd start complaining about their younger brother or sister, say they wished they were an only child, and then they'd just stop. They'd exchange nervous glances, and mutter apologizies. Nothing was ever the same without Caty. It was like she was the Sun that lit up my world, she was everything important to me then. I hated that I had drug her out to the mountain with me, "It's a beautiful day," I had said. "Let's go play in the creek, Caty. It's your creek, remember?"
The creek was always Caty's. Always had been, always will be. I remember watching the preacher tell how Caty was a happy child, gleeful. She brought joy to everyone around her. And it was true. But now, in those days after her death, everytime her name was mentioned, my mom would flee the room. That's where Momma was during the funeral, she was in the house, watching from the window. She couldn't bear it. She just couldn't. I don't blame her. Not even to this day.
The rain picked up and I had to adbandon my spot by the tree. I returned to the house and picked up my cell phone. I turned to the cabinet and rummaged through as the phone rang, calling Joel back. I found my treasure, a packet of cake mix and icing, as he picked up. "Come back. I'm making cake."
AN: as said above, this is a continuation from the story Caty's Creek posted on fictionpress. More of the story will be seen there and maybe the occasional update on here.
xo
Kayy
Caty's Creek
Chapter Three: Memories from Long Ago
Elyse's POV
I sat there wondering how it all could have happened. Was it really ten years ago? A full decade? It seemed like only yesterday I sat at her memorial service, sandwhiched between Mom and Dad, the horrible flashbacks going through my mind. We had the ceremony at the base of the creek; the treacherous waters that claimed my sister was the loudest guest. It was stormy, a perfect cliche for a memorial service of a little girl's death, a horrible tragic death that there was nothing anyone could have done.
But me.
I always thought that if we hadn't gone out to the creek, hadn't scaled the mountain behind our house, hadn't played in the creek...she'd be here. She'd be fifteen now, chatting wildly with me about the hottest boy in school, or how she wanted to go to the winter formal later on this year. She wouldn't have been claimed by the creek if I had sucked up my pride and let her beat me in CandyLand. It was her favorite game, and we would have played for hours. She would continually beat me, and before long, we'd have dinner, watching out the kitchen window at the pouring rain. Later that night, instead of being at the bottom of every fall, being embeded into the banks of the creek, she'd be in my bed, with her little teddy bear and blanket, listening to me tell her what the thunder was. It wasn't just loud noise, I'd tell her, it was God, playing bowling with little Jesus. She'd learn that night the rain was just God's gardener's watering the Earth, God's little garden. The lightning was just the flash of a camera as people took pictures of Jesus. I'd tell her not be scared at all about the thunderstorm, and she'd fall asleep in my bed. We'd wake up and eat pancakes, we'd bake cakes on our birthdays. We'd continue our childhood. I'd still have a little sister, I wouldn't be an only child.
Everyone acted different from then on. Caty's birthday wasn't a joyous occasion each year, as it should have been. It was mournful, sad, a time of grieving. My friends acted different, they'd start complaining about their younger brother or sister, say they wished they were an only child, and then they'd just stop. They'd exchange nervous glances, and mutter apologizies. Nothing was ever the same without Caty. It was like she was the Sun that lit up my world, she was everything important to me then. I hated that I had drug her out to the mountain with me, "It's a beautiful day," I had said. "Let's go play in the creek, Caty. It's your creek, remember?"
The creek was always Caty's. Always had been, always will be. I remember watching the preacher tell how Caty was a happy child, gleeful. She brought joy to everyone around her. And it was true. But now, in those days after her death, everytime her name was mentioned, my mom would flee the room. That's where Momma was during the funeral, she was in the house, watching from the window. She couldn't bear it. She just couldn't. I don't blame her. Not even to this day.
The rain picked up and I had to adbandon my spot by the tree. I returned to the house and picked up my cell phone. I turned to the cabinet and rummaged through as the phone rang, calling Joel back. I found my treasure, a packet of cake mix and icing, as he picked up. "Come back. I'm making cake."
AN: as said above, this is a continuation from the story Caty's Creek posted on fictionpress. More of the story will be seen there and maybe the occasional update on here.
xo
Kayy
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Hollow Memories
I watched her as she slipped under. The dark, cold waters engulfed her tiny frail body, and I sat there. I was stunned. I couldn't do anything but look. My little sister, little Caty, taken by the stream. I sat there, scared. I knew there was nothing I could do. She was gone, the stream was moving too fast, the currents ripping and tearing their way down the mountain. I tried not to think about the masses of jagged rocks at the end of the numerous waterfalls. The falls weren't far from here, and I didn't want to see her mangled body fall over the edge. I couldn't do anything. They weren't large falls, but they were big enough..
I sat there, I was ten for Christ's sake, what was I supposed to do? I would see her each time I neared a fall if I ran, and I couldn't bear it. I was shockingly calm enough right now, even if her cries echoed throughout my brain, gaining more and more volume as the small tears fell down from my eyelashes. I looked over to the treacherous stream. The water was crashing against the rocks. A leaf struggled against the current. Just as Caty had. The water seemed serene though, and for whatever reason it calmed me. I slowly dipped my hand into the water, and rescued the tiny little leaf, setting it down carefully as if it were a living being.
I could have saved her. Something in my mind told me I could have. But at the same time, I couldn't have. If I had pulled her out of the water, grasped her tiny little hand, the waters would have taken me in her place. I loved my little sister, but I loved my life more. I didn't, at that time, possess the unconditional, cliche love that I hold now for my Joel. I held a different love. A sisterly love that was somewhat evil. I loved my little sister at times, yet other times, quiet frankly, I hated her. I know my mind back then was warped, so completely warped I don't know how I survived. I just know I did.
I know I sat there, my legs crossed as I drew aimlessly in muddy banks. I know that in my mind I could still hear little Caty's screams, her last cries. I know that what I thought about in those hours I sat there on the forest floor, I can never repeat. Never to any psychologist, whomever I may go to. Never to my Joel. Never to anyone who happens to stumble across this journal, kept under my bed, in that locked safe. I can't even allow myself to think about what was thought in those darkening hours, as the rain poured unmercilessly down into the forests.
Eventually I laid down and fell asleep, my hair sorawled out in the mud. In my slumber, I heard my parents' shrieks as they found Caty's mangled body at the end of the Falls. I heard my mother's cry as she noticed I wasn't home, and I wasn't in the stream with Caty. I heard my father's rifle, calling together the neighbors, and scaring off any bears that may be in the forest. The police cars came from town, and helicopters flew over me. Uncle Roy's yells could be heard for miles, calling my name over and over. And I just laid there, unable to move, in a twilight zone of my own creating-knowing yet not knowing what was going on. I heard the dogs bark as they ran out ahead of the others, on my scent. My dog Sammy had come up and licked my face, waking me from the daze I had settled into. That's when I saw my Joel for the first time. He had come to look for me. He sat me up, and called for the others. My Daddy came picked me up, carrying me down the mountain.
Everyone asked me what had happened. Joel has begged me for years to tell him what I was doing laying in the mud. Why hadn't I come down for help? Momma died soon after Caty's funeral. She couldn't handle her youngest daughter's death and her other daughter's constant vow of silence. I refused to talk for about a year after Caty's death. Eventually I spoke, in small broken sentences. Everyone tells me that time was the most difficult time for my dad, losing his wife and daughter, and then teaching the only person he had to live for anymore learn how to talk again.
I went to every shrink we could, and each time they said I was traumatized by the experience. I don't know if they were right or wrong. I just know that I don't like shrinks. I don't like what they say about me behind my back. I'm terrified of water. Of the liquid hands coming after me next. Sometimes, I wish it were me that had fallen down those waterfalls, that had inhaled the water, been impaled by the jagged rocks.
All I know, is that I don't know anymore. My life has been turned upside down over and over again. And that my soul's wasting away in this hollow shell of a body.
~Elyse
AN: So, I sat here staring at a blank screen and just started typing. The journal entry you just read flowed out. I guess you could say it's based off my story Caty's Creek that I wrote about a month or two back. Everything is completely fictious and for entertainment purposes only. Tell me what you think.
I sat there, I was ten for Christ's sake, what was I supposed to do? I would see her each time I neared a fall if I ran, and I couldn't bear it. I was shockingly calm enough right now, even if her cries echoed throughout my brain, gaining more and more volume as the small tears fell down from my eyelashes. I looked over to the treacherous stream. The water was crashing against the rocks. A leaf struggled against the current. Just as Caty had. The water seemed serene though, and for whatever reason it calmed me. I slowly dipped my hand into the water, and rescued the tiny little leaf, setting it down carefully as if it were a living being.
I could have saved her. Something in my mind told me I could have. But at the same time, I couldn't have. If I had pulled her out of the water, grasped her tiny little hand, the waters would have taken me in her place. I loved my little sister, but I loved my life more. I didn't, at that time, possess the unconditional, cliche love that I hold now for my Joel. I held a different love. A sisterly love that was somewhat evil. I loved my little sister at times, yet other times, quiet frankly, I hated her. I know my mind back then was warped, so completely warped I don't know how I survived. I just know I did.
I know I sat there, my legs crossed as I drew aimlessly in muddy banks. I know that in my mind I could still hear little Caty's screams, her last cries. I know that what I thought about in those hours I sat there on the forest floor, I can never repeat. Never to any psychologist, whomever I may go to. Never to my Joel. Never to anyone who happens to stumble across this journal, kept under my bed, in that locked safe. I can't even allow myself to think about what was thought in those darkening hours, as the rain poured unmercilessly down into the forests.
Eventually I laid down and fell asleep, my hair sorawled out in the mud. In my slumber, I heard my parents' shrieks as they found Caty's mangled body at the end of the Falls. I heard my mother's cry as she noticed I wasn't home, and I wasn't in the stream with Caty. I heard my father's rifle, calling together the neighbors, and scaring off any bears that may be in the forest. The police cars came from town, and helicopters flew over me. Uncle Roy's yells could be heard for miles, calling my name over and over. And I just laid there, unable to move, in a twilight zone of my own creating-knowing yet not knowing what was going on. I heard the dogs bark as they ran out ahead of the others, on my scent. My dog Sammy had come up and licked my face, waking me from the daze I had settled into. That's when I saw my Joel for the first time. He had come to look for me. He sat me up, and called for the others. My Daddy came picked me up, carrying me down the mountain.
Everyone asked me what had happened. Joel has begged me for years to tell him what I was doing laying in the mud. Why hadn't I come down for help? Momma died soon after Caty's funeral. She couldn't handle her youngest daughter's death and her other daughter's constant vow of silence. I refused to talk for about a year after Caty's death. Eventually I spoke, in small broken sentences. Everyone tells me that time was the most difficult time for my dad, losing his wife and daughter, and then teaching the only person he had to live for anymore learn how to talk again.
I went to every shrink we could, and each time they said I was traumatized by the experience. I don't know if they were right or wrong. I just know that I don't like shrinks. I don't like what they say about me behind my back. I'm terrified of water. Of the liquid hands coming after me next. Sometimes, I wish it were me that had fallen down those waterfalls, that had inhaled the water, been impaled by the jagged rocks.
All I know, is that I don't know anymore. My life has been turned upside down over and over again. And that my soul's wasting away in this hollow shell of a body.
~Elyse
AN: So, I sat here staring at a blank screen and just started typing. The journal entry you just read flowed out. I guess you could say it's based off my story Caty's Creek that I wrote about a month or two back. Everything is completely fictious and for entertainment purposes only. Tell me what you think.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
To Be Only Yours...I Pray....
There's a song that's inside of my soul
It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again
I'm awake in the infinite cold
But You sing to me over and over and over again
So I lay my head back down
And I lift my handsand pray to be only Yours
I pray to be only Yours
I know now you're my only hope
~Only Hope~ Mandy Moore
The semi-famous words of Mandy Moore, sung in the definitely-famous 2002 movie A Walk to Remember. The movie is a classic love story of teenage love turning out to be the love of their lives. The song above was sung during a play which starred the stars of the movie, Shane West and Mandy Moore. The song was intentionally to describe the play's characters' relationship, but turned out to be the most memorable love song--well, at least in my opinion. The basic storyline is badboy Landon Carter, played by Shane West, meets and immediately falls in love with the good-girl Jamie Sullivan, played by Mandy Moore. I can't describe really how much I love this movie, because to me, it portrays the realities of true love. Yes, I know it's just a movie but...they captured it perfectly.
Boy Meets Girl.
Boy Falls In Love with Girl.
Girl Can't Resist Boy No Matter How Hard She Tries.
Boy and Girl Get Married.
The thing that I love best about this movie is one simple fact. Jamie is the preacher's daughter and wants the whole fluffy white wedding dress thing. Landon was the trouble-maker badguy, who has quite frankly broken that rule a couple of times. But he gives it all up for Jamie. They fall in love, and he respects her in everyway. He doesn't want anything from her except to make her happy. It doesn't matter how; he just wants her happy. He never pushes her for anything, but fights for her love, because he loves her just as much if not more. Even through hard times, Landon stays with her, and even says at the end of the movie that Jamie saved his life. I think what's so amazing is that they are irrevoccably in love. And another thing that's so astonishing is that people write it off as fictional--that could never happen.
And that's where people are wrong. I believe that it happens everyday. It's not just ficitonal, there is that strong love, that..innocent love. I know it is, because I believe I've found it myself. It's just the patience thing that people don't get, so they just settle. Now, I'm not saying to wait around so long that you die gray and alone, though nothing's wrong with that if you so choose. What I'm saying is you can't expect the first couple of guys that happen to come into your life to be absolutely amazing and perfect for you in everyway. If you do happen to find that person so soon, like I did, consider yourself extremely lucky.
For you others, rent A Walk to Remember, have a good cry, set a decent standard and be patient. It'll all work out.
xo
Kayy
I love you James
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Happy Valentines
Okay, so before I get too far ahead of myself, I wish to apologize for the previous post. It was kind of uncalled for. Me and that certain somebody that it was kind of about have talked things over and we is good to go. I do wish to apologize though for it.Now, on to today's post.
It's Valentine's Day yet again, a day to stuff your face with chocolates and cuddle with a teddy bear that significant other got you. Valentine's Daym, whether or not it was it's intial purpose, has become "couples' day" where you get presents from your boyfriend/girlfriend/husnad/wife. But as my day as gone on, I guess it's more than that. It could kind of be called "loved ones appreciation day" as I got presents from my grandparents, my aunt, and my parents as well as from my boyfriend. Though I must admit his white roses are the best, end of story. But my puppydog my dad got me, and the bear my aunt got me, and the chocolates and cupcakes from my grandparents are all pretty cool too. My point is, through the years, it's become more than just "couples day" and more like "loved ones appreciation day." Many people say that Valentine's Day was invented by the industries, and it was. But not just for boyfriends/girlfriends, husbands/wives. It was made for them, and family, and friends. I mean who doesn't love finding Dora the Explorer Valentine's Day cards stuffed in your locker? Or a new stuffed animal from your parents, even if you are fifteen and regard it as kiddie-things. Either way, Valentine's Day has it's own special meaning, to each person in their own way.
I think that's about it, all there really is to say ont he subject.
Happy Valentine's Day
~Kayy
It's Valentine's Day yet again, a day to stuff your face with chocolates and cuddle with a teddy bear that significant other got you. Valentine's Daym, whether or not it was it's intial purpose, has become "couples' day" where you get presents from your boyfriend/girlfriend/husnad/wife. But as my day as gone on, I guess it's more than that. It could kind of be called "loved ones appreciation day" as I got presents from my grandparents, my aunt, and my parents as well as from my boyfriend. Though I must admit his white roses are the best, end of story. But my puppydog my dad got me, and the bear my aunt got me, and the chocolates and cupcakes from my grandparents are all pretty cool too. My point is, through the years, it's become more than just "couples day" and more like "loved ones appreciation day." Many people say that Valentine's Day was invented by the industries, and it was. But not just for boyfriends/girlfriends, husbands/wives. It was made for them, and family, and friends. I mean who doesn't love finding Dora the Explorer Valentine's Day cards stuffed in your locker? Or a new stuffed animal from your parents, even if you are fifteen and regard it as kiddie-things. Either way, Valentine's Day has it's own special meaning, to each person in their own way.
I think that's about it, all there really is to say ont he subject.
Happy Valentine's Day
~Kayy
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Hypocrite: The Ones in the World I Love to Hate
So tonight, my loves, we have a little rant to go through. It's baked in my mind all day. I know I have some ethics posts I need to get around to, not to mention the countless poetry and short story ideas to throw at you guys but I really would like to use this time for my endless, pointless rant because I know the person it's aimed at will only get all mad over it and throw my recent irresponsiblity back in my face. But I don't care at this point. Let her.
You want to know what I really really can't stand? By the title you've probably already guessed it but I'll be Captain Obvious for a short while and just throw it out there: hypocrites. I hate it. I mean really, you'll rant on me and tell me how "retarded" I am for my choice of a boyfriend, who thank you very much I have known since seventh grade, and then the first sleezball who happens to say a few nice things to you and is socially acceptable for you to date, you automatically want to make out with him nonstop. And I'm sorry to say this but really, you'll be sick of him in two weeks and find some flimsy excuse to dump him.
But don't worry, you're not the only flawed one. He sits in class all day talking about how he's going to use you to get what he wants out of this whole thing. Maybe I'm being too judgemental of him, but who really knows? After allt his guy has been here for what, a week? Less?
Yet already you trust him over a supposed best friend you've known from the start.
And it really wouldn't bother me as muchif you weren't such a hypocrite. I mean really. I get together with my boyfriend and all I hear from you is how "he's not good for you" "you can do better" and all this other stuff that really you don't have any place to say. In the past year that I have been with my boyfriend you always say you only "tolerate" him yet you don't actually put forth an effort to be nice to him and get to know him. It's really judgemental of you, and I guess considering I called your new hookup of the week a sleezball, that makes me a bit of a hypocrite but what can I say, in the past week the guy's been to our school he's proven that to just about everyone. The point is, You have constantly "warned me of the horrors" that my relationship has and is going to bring. Yet the second I try to warn you that this new guy of yours is broadcasting to all the class of how he's getting some from you, you tell me you can take care of yourself and you don't need me to warn you about things I don't know about.
Hmm. So let us think about it. When you did the same to me: I knew the guy for two years, I said the same thing, and he wasn't bragging or wanting to get anything from me. And yet you've known the guy less than a week and he's telling everyone he can.
I still want to give the guy a chance, because yes he's been here a week, so I'll try to not be as judgemental, I just want you to realize that..that sometimes before you say something, try to be in their shoes. I mean seriously this is a reversal of a year ago. It really is.
It's horrible to say, but I honestly hope he breaks your heart.
Maybe you'll take your so-called friends more seriously.
xo
Kayy
You want to know what I really really can't stand? By the title you've probably already guessed it but I'll be Captain Obvious for a short while and just throw it out there: hypocrites. I hate it. I mean really, you'll rant on me and tell me how "retarded" I am for my choice of a boyfriend, who thank you very much I have known since seventh grade, and then the first sleezball who happens to say a few nice things to you and is socially acceptable for you to date, you automatically want to make out with him nonstop. And I'm sorry to say this but really, you'll be sick of him in two weeks and find some flimsy excuse to dump him.
But don't worry, you're not the only flawed one. He sits in class all day talking about how he's going to use you to get what he wants out of this whole thing. Maybe I'm being too judgemental of him, but who really knows? After allt his guy has been here for what, a week? Less?
Yet already you trust him over a supposed best friend you've known from the start.
And it really wouldn't bother me as muchif you weren't such a hypocrite. I mean really. I get together with my boyfriend and all I hear from you is how "he's not good for you" "you can do better" and all this other stuff that really you don't have any place to say. In the past year that I have been with my boyfriend you always say you only "tolerate" him yet you don't actually put forth an effort to be nice to him and get to know him. It's really judgemental of you, and I guess considering I called your new hookup of the week a sleezball, that makes me a bit of a hypocrite but what can I say, in the past week the guy's been to our school he's proven that to just about everyone. The point is, You have constantly "warned me of the horrors" that my relationship has and is going to bring. Yet the second I try to warn you that this new guy of yours is broadcasting to all the class of how he's getting some from you, you tell me you can take care of yourself and you don't need me to warn you about things I don't know about.
Hmm. So let us think about it. When you did the same to me: I knew the guy for two years, I said the same thing, and he wasn't bragging or wanting to get anything from me. And yet you've known the guy less than a week and he's telling everyone he can.
I still want to give the guy a chance, because yes he's been here a week, so I'll try to not be as judgemental, I just want you to realize that..that sometimes before you say something, try to be in their shoes. I mean seriously this is a reversal of a year ago. It really is.
It's horrible to say, but I honestly hope he breaks your heart.
Maybe you'll take your so-called friends more seriously.
xo
Kayy
Saturday, January 24, 2009
But Honey Realize...
Life's not perfect
and doesn't go the way we plan.
There's bumps and turns,
things we don't anticipate,
but honey realize..
that that's just life
You can't plan every detail,
as I know I want to,
things change
and people make their own decisions
but honey realize..
that this decision is mine alone.
I know what you want,
and I know what I want,
But honey realize,
it's all out of order
Your life is yours alone,
You make your decisions,
their yours to make
but honey realize
this is my life.
I make my decisions.
But honey realize,
I'm not your slave.
But honey realize,
That I'm not your plaything
But honey realize,
I still love you
AN: contrary to popular belief, this is not based on anyone or anything. It was simply a poem I thought I migth share and preserve on here for future use in one of my stories. I'm sorry if anyone thought it was about my beloved boyfriend, it's not. Sorry for ya. but anyway, yeah, theres my disclaimer, it's not based on anyone.
Friday, January 16, 2009
I Really Hope You Weren't Looking for Rainbows and Ponies
You remember that friend you had in middle school? The one you could rely on, trust with everything, and still tell everything you can to this day? Remember that friend who you thought would be there forever, because after all you did say best friends forever..
Do you remember that friend?
I remember mine.
That one year, when she had left, I thought I'd die, I had no friends with her gone. I completely missed out on that part of school, whether in elementary or middle, or whenever you were supposed to learn it. I missed out on learning how to make friends.
Enemies, sure, but we had made those enemies together.
And with her at a new school, I was left all alone.
It took me a whole semester to find a friend, but then, to me they were just pawns in a game.
To be honest, I didn't have friends and didn't want them.
That one friend, the one friend I found that semester turned out to get me in trouble, and though I'm "friends" with her today, she's just a pawn.
That first friend, my only true middle school friend, I longed for her to be back. It's not like some creepy stalkerish-lesbian-love. I just wanted my friend back.
I'd get home, and call her first. Ask how her day was. All that jazz.
Even in highschool, that first semester, I continued making lists to tell her about my day. So in a way it was like she was there. Like I still had my good middle school friend.
So I wasn't alone.
But, no matter what I did, she gained other friends. Which is good for her, shes a social butterfly now.
And I'm that awkward middle school friend.
Our personalities got more diverse, and soon there was nothing but those memories to keep us together.
Eventually, we grew apart.
I still consider her my best friend.
I keep all of our pictures, to help remind me how much she was there for me, and how much I was there for her.
But it's all memories now..
She didn't keep any of her pictures.
I'm wiped clean from her MySpace.
Out of her life.
We still talk occasionally..but we're not as close.
It sucks.
I lost a very good friend.
xo
Kayy
Do you remember that friend?
I remember mine.
That one year, when she had left, I thought I'd die, I had no friends with her gone. I completely missed out on that part of school, whether in elementary or middle, or whenever you were supposed to learn it. I missed out on learning how to make friends.
Enemies, sure, but we had made those enemies together.
And with her at a new school, I was left all alone.
It took me a whole semester to find a friend, but then, to me they were just pawns in a game.
To be honest, I didn't have friends and didn't want them.
That one friend, the one friend I found that semester turned out to get me in trouble, and though I'm "friends" with her today, she's just a pawn.
That first friend, my only true middle school friend, I longed for her to be back. It's not like some creepy stalkerish-lesbian-love. I just wanted my friend back.
I'd get home, and call her first. Ask how her day was. All that jazz.
Even in highschool, that first semester, I continued making lists to tell her about my day. So in a way it was like she was there. Like I still had my good middle school friend.
So I wasn't alone.
But, no matter what I did, she gained other friends. Which is good for her, shes a social butterfly now.
And I'm that awkward middle school friend.
Our personalities got more diverse, and soon there was nothing but those memories to keep us together.
Eventually, we grew apart.
I still consider her my best friend.
I keep all of our pictures, to help remind me how much she was there for me, and how much I was there for her.
But it's all memories now..
She didn't keep any of her pictures.
I'm wiped clean from her MySpace.
Out of her life.
We still talk occasionally..but we're not as close.
It sucks.
I lost a very good friend.
xo
Kayy
"There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution."
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Oscar Wilde
Reasons for Change (please read)
So I had two blogs, this one and kayywrites.blogspot.com.
No one went to the other one so in order to get all my work mainstream, or as mainstream as possible, I moved all those posts here.
So Below are about five writing pieces.
Enjoy them all
xo
Kayy
No one went to the other one so in order to get all my work mainstream, or as mainstream as possible, I moved all those posts here.
So Below are about five writing pieces.
Enjoy them all
xo
Kayy
Love
I said goodnight, and hung up the phone.
He didn't know, how could he know?
Know how much it hurt everytime I had to say good bye, even if just for a little while.
He didn't know how much it hurt me every time he walked out the door, or he left the room for all of a minute.
It was selfish of me to want him around so much, to be just in his presence.
It was what I craved, what I needed.
Of course, we couldn't be together twenty-four/seven, like I desired.
He had to leave, it wasn't like he voluntarily did it to me.
Phone calls and texting weren't the same, but at least I had some contact with him.
But nothing is as good as being with him, just to have him in the same room as me.
Everything melted away then, everything was perfect. There was no fear or wrongdoing when he was there. I could fly with him there.
It was...perfect.
Simply perfect bliss.
Of course, bliss only lasts so long before it too dissolves, when he leaves or hangs up the phone.
I love him so much, the world will never understand just how much.
And that, my friend, is one of the joys in life. To be in love, and to love someone so much that it hurts.
But it's the good hurt, the hurt that when you were a little girl yourself you dreamed of having.
And now that you possess such..love, such hurt that it feels so good you want more.
And no, this isn't a sexual kind of love, it's the intimate love of..just pure love.
Nothing is as...sweet and innocent as this love.
The love of your life that you want to keep forever.
This is the love that you want to marry, the love you want to die with, the love you want to be buried next to, preferably still holding his hand.
This is the love of a lifetime.
Please don't lose your love.
And please don't make me lose mine.
AN: The author has just committed the crime of a lifetime. Instead of covering her feelings for that one person in her life, for once she let the best words she could to describe it flow onto the screen. For once, there was no feeling-burial. Just...love.
I love you James.
He didn't know, how could he know?
Know how much it hurt everytime I had to say good bye, even if just for a little while.
He didn't know how much it hurt me every time he walked out the door, or he left the room for all of a minute.
It was selfish of me to want him around so much, to be just in his presence.
It was what I craved, what I needed.
Of course, we couldn't be together twenty-four/seven, like I desired.
He had to leave, it wasn't like he voluntarily did it to me.
Phone calls and texting weren't the same, but at least I had some contact with him.
But nothing is as good as being with him, just to have him in the same room as me.
Everything melted away then, everything was perfect. There was no fear or wrongdoing when he was there. I could fly with him there.
It was...perfect.
Simply perfect bliss.
Of course, bliss only lasts so long before it too dissolves, when he leaves or hangs up the phone.
I love him so much, the world will never understand just how much.
And that, my friend, is one of the joys in life. To be in love, and to love someone so much that it hurts.
But it's the good hurt, the hurt that when you were a little girl yourself you dreamed of having.
And now that you possess such..love, such hurt that it feels so good you want more.
And no, this isn't a sexual kind of love, it's the intimate love of..just pure love.
Nothing is as...sweet and innocent as this love.
The love of your life that you want to keep forever.
This is the love that you want to marry, the love you want to die with, the love you want to be buried next to, preferably still holding his hand.
This is the love of a lifetime.
Please don't lose your love.
And please don't make me lose mine.
AN: The author has just committed the crime of a lifetime. Instead of covering her feelings for that one person in her life, for once she let the best words she could to describe it flow onto the screen. For once, there was no feeling-burial. Just...love.
I love you James.
Run Away Little Child
Run Away Little Child
You know they don’t want you
You know they don’t care
People may say
And people may act
But we all know a lie
Run away little child
It’s your destiny
Run little child, and your teddy too
It’s okay, I’ll care for you
AN: We'll run this on a "don't ask, don't tell".....
xo
Kayy
Memory-Ghosts
She wandered down the streets, wondering why she was here. The streets were dark, it was nearly dusk. Memories stared at her like ghosts from the shadows as she walked along. She didn't want to be here, to many memories were recalled.
The heavens opened up, their tears mingling with her own. Thunder and lightening were the heavens sobs, as she cried her own. Her shoulders heaved up and down, and finally she could bear it no longer.
She fell to her knees, straight to the asphalt. She could bear the memories no longer.
She laid on the ground, crying, soaking wet, as she cried with the skies.
The memory-ghosts stared, and prodded at her. Sharp pains through her mind as their psychological fingers stabbed her, drained her.
She cried harder, alone on the ground, in a place where she knew she shouldn't have returned to and never would again.
It seemed too much to bear.
She couldn't stand the memory-ghosts, and couldn't stand the unmerciless pain they inflicted on her.
The heavens had sympathy, closing their eyes, and looking away.
The Sun peeked shyly out, looking at the girl laying in the road.
The memory-ghosts fled away, running from the strength the Sun flung down.
The girl peeked out, straightening and wiping her tears away. She watched in awe as the Sun sent her an angel, a glorious angel.
He stepped from the clouds, and walked to where she was on the ground, crumpled and broken.
The Sun's angel sat down, his brillance was too much for her to bear; she had to turn away.
He turned her chin, forcing her to look at him.
He wiped a remaining tear from her cheek, and took her into his arms.
The angel stood, one fluid motion, and walked bravely down the street.
He carried her as far away from those streets, from the memory-ghosts.
She clung to his chest, thanking the Sun for sending him to her.
The angel looked down at her, smiling, and kissed her.
She kissed him back, and when she pulled away she frowned.
"What is it, my dear?" he asked her.
"It's you.." She saw her angel was someone she knew of for a long time, but never had the wonderous pleaseure of meeting. Until now.
She kissed her angel, and clung to his chest.
He carried her off, far away from the memory-ghosts, never to return again.
AN: okay so, I named this one Memory-Ghosts for lack of better title. I hope you enjoyed it.Leave me love
xo
Kayy
The heavens opened up, their tears mingling with her own. Thunder and lightening were the heavens sobs, as she cried her own. Her shoulders heaved up and down, and finally she could bear it no longer.
She fell to her knees, straight to the asphalt. She could bear the memories no longer.
She laid on the ground, crying, soaking wet, as she cried with the skies.
The memory-ghosts stared, and prodded at her. Sharp pains through her mind as their psychological fingers stabbed her, drained her.
She cried harder, alone on the ground, in a place where she knew she shouldn't have returned to and never would again.
It seemed too much to bear.
She couldn't stand the memory-ghosts, and couldn't stand the unmerciless pain they inflicted on her.
The heavens had sympathy, closing their eyes, and looking away.
The Sun peeked shyly out, looking at the girl laying in the road.
The memory-ghosts fled away, running from the strength the Sun flung down.
The girl peeked out, straightening and wiping her tears away. She watched in awe as the Sun sent her an angel, a glorious angel.
He stepped from the clouds, and walked to where she was on the ground, crumpled and broken.
The Sun's angel sat down, his brillance was too much for her to bear; she had to turn away.
He turned her chin, forcing her to look at him.
He wiped a remaining tear from her cheek, and took her into his arms.
The angel stood, one fluid motion, and walked bravely down the street.
He carried her as far away from those streets, from the memory-ghosts.
She clung to his chest, thanking the Sun for sending him to her.
The angel looked down at her, smiling, and kissed her.
She kissed him back, and when she pulled away she frowned.
"What is it, my dear?" he asked her.
"It's you.." She saw her angel was someone she knew of for a long time, but never had the wonderous pleaseure of meeting. Until now.
She kissed her angel, and clung to his chest.
He carried her off, far away from the memory-ghosts, never to return again.
AN: okay so, I named this one Memory-Ghosts for lack of better title. I hope you enjoyed it.Leave me love
xo
Kayy
Drink My Love
Okay so I have no idea what this is, just that I need to let it out because it's been rolling around in my head for awhile and quite frankly I'm afraid it's creating too much static electricity. hahaEnjoy
Drink my love
Drink until you can no longer
It won't hurt much
Just a tinge
Drink my love
It won't harm him
Drink my love,
drink as much as you can stand
Don't ask what it is
or what is consists of
Just know I love you
sweet beautiful love of mine
Drink my love,
drink of me.
And I shall drink of you.
Drink my love.
Haha okay so after reading that, sounds like a creepy vampire love story haha.
Well, leave me love
xo
Kayy
Shattered.
Alone, I sat and cried.
Such a minor fight, a little thing, that brought a revelation.
If only he'd answer the phone I thought, tears streaming down my face.
What do you do in a situation like this?
So I sat.
And cried.
Hours passed. He wouldn't answer phone calls, texts, nothing.
So alone I sat.
And cried.
Finally, finally!, after what seemed like an eternity, a text rang on my phone
"I am so sorry for ever hurting you, I'm sorry you ever cried over me.."
I read in horror, reading words from him that were twisted, true yet untrue.
"..I'm so sorry for everything, I feel like I've failed you..."
You haven't failed me, love...
"..that I have taken away your freedom.."
You freed me..
"..like I keep you trapped. I need you to live your life to the fullest..."
And I will, with you there.
"...to fight for what is most important to you and do what you want to do without anyone getting in your way..."
The words seemed so...final...I wanted to stop reading, to call him and tell him I loved him.
Tell him he was all wrong...
The texts flooded in, his voice echoed the words as I read..
"...Be what you want to be, do what you want to do. Don't let anyone ever stop you, don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't do something."
Tears strolled down my face as I hurriedly called him...I couldn't bear it any longer. His voice sounded after the first ring.
"I love you. I never meant to hurt you. Goodbye, my love, you deserve better. You're free."
A single sound ended the call,
ended his life,
ended my world.
Everything.
Shattered.
AN: Okay, so I have to make this very clear. This was a fictious writing I wrote after discovering things about some friends. I'll say that much. Everything is okay, everyone's okay. Like I said, it's fiction. It may not seem like a good writing to you, but I know the value....leave me love
xo
Kayy
Such a minor fight, a little thing, that brought a revelation.
If only he'd answer the phone I thought, tears streaming down my face.
What do you do in a situation like this?
So I sat.
And cried.
Hours passed. He wouldn't answer phone calls, texts, nothing.
So alone I sat.
And cried.
Finally, finally!, after what seemed like an eternity, a text rang on my phone
"I am so sorry for ever hurting you, I'm sorry you ever cried over me.."
I read in horror, reading words from him that were twisted, true yet untrue.
"..I'm so sorry for everything, I feel like I've failed you..."
You haven't failed me, love...
"..that I have taken away your freedom.."
You freed me..
"..like I keep you trapped. I need you to live your life to the fullest..."
And I will, with you there.
"...to fight for what is most important to you and do what you want to do without anyone getting in your way..."
The words seemed so...final...I wanted to stop reading, to call him and tell him I loved him.
Tell him he was all wrong...
The texts flooded in, his voice echoed the words as I read..
"...Be what you want to be, do what you want to do. Don't let anyone ever stop you, don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't do something."
Tears strolled down my face as I hurriedly called him...I couldn't bear it any longer. His voice sounded after the first ring.
"I love you. I never meant to hurt you. Goodbye, my love, you deserve better. You're free."
A single sound ended the call,
ended his life,
ended my world.
Everything.
Shattered.
AN: Okay, so I have to make this very clear. This was a fictious writing I wrote after discovering things about some friends. I'll say that much. Everything is okay, everyone's okay. Like I said, it's fiction. It may not seem like a good writing to you, but I know the value....leave me love
xo
Kayy
Friday, January 2, 2009
May I Do A "Just for Kicks and Giggles" Post?
I swear I think I'm so cool, sititng here drinking Sunkist like I'm all growed up. Haha, got my iPod and cell phone setting out like I'm all Mrs. Important. Haha
LIstenting to out-dated Nickelback like I be a supastar.
lol
Im such a mega uber dork.
I could totally turn this into a "be yourself/ self actualization" speech, but I think this is better.
Haha
Im such a nerd
xo
Supastar Dork
XD
LIstenting to out-dated Nickelback like I be a supastar.
lol
Im such a mega uber dork.
I could totally turn this into a "be yourself/ self actualization" speech, but I think this is better.
Haha
Im such a nerd
xo
Supastar Dork
XD
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Happy New Year: Resolutions and Expectations for 2009
Okay, so I guess I'm a bit late once again, but I don't think you have to make the resolutions and expectations exactly when the ball drops, so we're all good.
I just kind of wanted to do a few things in today's blog.
First of, reflections.
Think back on 2008. Yeah I know that last night at midnight most people threw away all bad memories and set them aflame. But for me can we recollect the ashes and bring those back?
First, I want you to think about all the good memories you had in 2008. ((That way you have time to find all the ashes of the dead bad memories.))
Think about every laugh, every smile. Think about what made you happy in 2008.
Maybe it was making new friends, or having a boyfriend/girlfriend that you kept until now. ((I'm sure there were others, and we'll get to them in a bit.))
Maybe it was some quality time with family or reconnecting with an old friend.
Whatever it was, just think about those times that you were truly happy.
Now, I want you to look on those ashes of the bad. I know it's tough but think about all the sadness you unfortunately had to experience this past year. Think about the tears and the heartbreak that you may have experienced.
Maybe the anger or disappointment you experienced.
I know this is depressing but really analyze all of that. Some of it is your fault.
I'm not saying every little piece is your fault, but theres bound to be something that you brought on yourself.
Enough with the reflections and all the hurtful memories.
Now we're going to move to expectations.
Yeah I know it's out of the previous order, but think about it this is more logical.
If you keep up your previous state then your bound to have more to burn next New Year's Eve.
Look to the next year. With this same state of mind will you be sad more than happy? Or happy more than sad.
Everyone I believe wants the latter.
Which brings us to the Resolutions.
Think about all that stuff that you can change.
You can change your attitude, and not have as much trouble with your parents or employer. Stay positive. You have to. Don't blow up over the tiniest things.
Now, I'm not saying bottle everything up so you become an emotional rocket that launches at the most inappropriate times, BUT you do need some control.
Make resolutions to do all this.
To realize that everything doesn't need an explosion, that it's not the coming of the apocolaypse if you don't get your way or have to do an extra chore every once in awhile.
Stay calm. Make a resolution for positive changes.
And another thing about resolutions, I hope you made positive and productive New Year's resolutions. Hopefully it wasn't something like "find a new boyfriend/girlfriend" and hopefully it was something substantial and something you'll actually try to stick with!
So I guess, that's all I wanted to say, stick with your positive, productive resolutions and maybe this year will be a happier one.
Welcome 2009!
xo
Kayy
I just kind of wanted to do a few things in today's blog.
First of, reflections.
Think back on 2008. Yeah I know that last night at midnight most people threw away all bad memories and set them aflame. But for me can we recollect the ashes and bring those back?
First, I want you to think about all the good memories you had in 2008. ((That way you have time to find all the ashes of the dead bad memories.))
Think about every laugh, every smile. Think about what made you happy in 2008.
Maybe it was making new friends, or having a boyfriend/girlfriend that you kept until now. ((I'm sure there were others, and we'll get to them in a bit.))
Maybe it was some quality time with family or reconnecting with an old friend.
Whatever it was, just think about those times that you were truly happy.
Now, I want you to look on those ashes of the bad. I know it's tough but think about all the sadness you unfortunately had to experience this past year. Think about the tears and the heartbreak that you may have experienced.
Maybe the anger or disappointment you experienced.
I know this is depressing but really analyze all of that. Some of it is your fault.
I'm not saying every little piece is your fault, but theres bound to be something that you brought on yourself.
Enough with the reflections and all the hurtful memories.
Now we're going to move to expectations.
Yeah I know it's out of the previous order, but think about it this is more logical.
If you keep up your previous state then your bound to have more to burn next New Year's Eve.
Look to the next year. With this same state of mind will you be sad more than happy? Or happy more than sad.
Everyone I believe wants the latter.
Which brings us to the Resolutions.
Think about all that stuff that you can change.
You can change your attitude, and not have as much trouble with your parents or employer. Stay positive. You have to. Don't blow up over the tiniest things.
Now, I'm not saying bottle everything up so you become an emotional rocket that launches at the most inappropriate times, BUT you do need some control.
Make resolutions to do all this.
To realize that everything doesn't need an explosion, that it's not the coming of the apocolaypse if you don't get your way or have to do an extra chore every once in awhile.
Stay calm. Make a resolution for positive changes.
And another thing about resolutions, I hope you made positive and productive New Year's resolutions. Hopefully it wasn't something like "find a new boyfriend/girlfriend" and hopefully it was something substantial and something you'll actually try to stick with!
So I guess, that's all I wanted to say, stick with your positive, productive resolutions and maybe this year will be a happier one.
Welcome 2009!
xo
Kayy
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