By Aphra Behn
I
How strongly does my passion flow,
Divided equally twixt two?
Damon had ne'er subdued my heart
Had not Alexis took his part;
Nor could Alexis powerful prove,
Without my Damon's aid, to gain my love.
II
When my Alexis present is,
Then I for Damon sigh and mourn;
But when Alexis I do miss,
Damon gains nothing but my scorn.
But if it chance they both are by,
For both alike I languish, sigh, and die.
III
Cure then, thou mighty winged god,
This restless fever in my blood;
One golden-pointed dart take back:
But which, O Cupid, wilt thou take?
If Damon's, all my hopes are crossed;
Or that of my Alexis, I am lost.
Never before have I understood this poem as perfectly I do as right now. I understand, Aphra Behn. And I thank you for sharing this writing with the world to devour---for I, too, feel the same.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Lizzie and Abby
First. Let me say I hate this new layout Blogger has going. The dashboard is so bare and white. Seems like a waste of space...kinda miss the blue and orange chunky dashboard... Hmm. Anyway. On to today's writing, inspired as always by the things I see in my mind and the dreams that haunt me at night.
"Kadie Simmons has been found dead today. These images may not be suitable for immature audiences."
It was a new name, but the same sentences have issued out of the news anchor's mouth several times this week. Always a new name, but the brutality of the killings have been the same. My eyes jerked from the slice of chocolate cake in front of me to watch the flat panel that had appeared from behind the cabinets.
"That makes six now, doesn't it?" I whispered to the chef.
"Seven." His eyes focused on the vegetables in front of him, preparing them for the stew we would have tomorrow night.
"It's weird to think a murderer could be in Camden Hills, much less a serial killer....." My voice sounded distant, even to my own ears, as I watched the images on the screen. Kadie had been found hanging from her bedroom rafters, still clutching her teddy bear. Her face was swollen, her frail body tinted with blue hues.
"Do we have to watch this, Lizzie?" Upon hearing my sister's voice I quickly turned the television off.
"Sorry, Abby...shouldn't you be in bed?" I looked at my little sister crawl into the chair. She was especially strong for an eight year old, in my opinion. Anyone else, I would think, would need help into the tall barstool.
"I'm going in a minute... I wanted a cookie, if I could please, Travis?"
"Sure thing Miss Abigail." I noticed the sharp professionalism to Travis' voice. Usually he acted with such casualness around us, never had I heard my friend call Abby "miss" anything...
"Thank you." Abby watched as Travis reheated a slightly cooled chocolate chip cookie he had made earlier in the afternoon. He handed the warm cookie to her as my mind wondered back to the day I had taken Abby and Kadie down to the stream at the edge of the property. Their laughter filled my ears as I watched them splashing each other, holding hands and picking daisies together.... Now Kadie's life had been taken from her, robbing a family of their child and my sister of her friend. I watched Abby nibble at her cookie sadly for a moment, noting the little teardrops that hung in her eyes. Turning, my eyes hovered on the chef, watching as he perfectly diced an onion, never once stopping the fluid motion of the knife to move the skins out of the way. They seemed to be pushed aside on their own. He moved with especial smoothness today, never once tripping up or getting lost in his movements. Something with him wasn't natural... there would be no way for a human being to be this...this perfect in nearly everything he does.
"It's rude to stare, Miss Elizabeth." he chided me.
"It's equally as rude to act this strange among friends," I retorted, pushing the nearly full plate across the bar. I leaned over to place a small kiss on Abby's forehead before jumping down from my perch. Travis cocked his head to the side, watching me with a trivial look.
"Rude? Well I'm sorry if I offended you." He stood toe to toe with me, his eyes flicked to where Abby sat.
"I'm going to bed, Lizzie. Will you tuck me in?" Her small voice came up from behind me, her small hand curling itself around mine.
"Sure thing, sweetie," I let the sweetness drip out of my voice as I turned to the man in front of me. "You're acting strange again, Travis. I will figure out what game you're playing." I pushed past him, deliberately jarring the bowl of tomatoes he had set on the counter. I walked Abby up to her room, tucking her in and placing a small kiss on her forehead.
"Love you angel." I smiled at my baby sister. I've watched her grow up through the years and began to realized, just now with her little blue eyes staring up at me, that she won't always be this little. My heart sank like that of a proud mother. I backed out of her room, and closed her door as my mind returned to the confusion and complex tangle that was Travis Resson. My mind always seemed to race back to him--to trying to figure out what it was behind that stony face and the large walls he had erected around himself. I had thought that surely, I had made progress. He had shared some of, what I would think to be, his darkest secrets with me over the past few weeks and now this sudden professionalism? My mind began to race fast as I stomped up to my room, leaving Abby's wing of the house for my own. I don't know what it was about him, I just get this uneasy feeling any time I'm near him. My heart races, muscles tense up, my legs beg to either run or be placed into a fighting stance. The way he smiles when he's deep in thought, he always seems to be around when I need him...or when I don't, now that I think of it. It was strange the way he acted around me... and what I heard last night? I had just been walking the house, trying to beat this damned insomnia that I had been cursed with, and I heard his voice. So naturally, I stopped, hoping my friend would be available for a late night chat. And instead I hear talk of an Emperor? And a gladiator battle...surely I had misheard... I passed into my room, allowing the door to slam shut behind me as I sat on my bed. There was something unnatural and off with this place and just what I'm not sure I could fully answer just yet, but I was determined to. I moved to the mini library that circled the support beam in the center of my room and scanned the bookshelves. Young adult fiction, fantasy, fiction....literature. I pulled Dante's Inferno off the shelf--save it for some late night reading later.. No nonfiction, no reference. I straightened up, my hands on my hips.
There had to be some answer, something out there. I sat down on the carpet, feeling mostly defeated as I stared out of the giant window. I watched as the ocean sighed and moved in the dark night, the moonlight shining down on it from its high perch in the sky. There had to be some answer to the riddles of this place, this mystical world that I had stepped into from my boring life of being an orphan.... Sounds like Narnia or Harry Potter. I chuckled at myself, amused at first by the ridiculousness of it. Unless...
Could it be real? Could these books have any probability of happening? Who says there can't be magic or talking animals, or a world so unlike our own we choose to ignore it? Surely this can exist, I mean, what if this Emperor guy is real, he exists in a world Travis has access to--
My thoughts were cut off by the scream that echoed through the house. Without my conscious say so, my body had already begun to race off to Abby's room. I raced through the corridors, anxious to get to Abby in the other wing of the house. The screams continued as my mind raced through the images that had been on the news over the past month as I dashed through this ridiculously large house. Little Kadie Simmons, seven years old, her body hanging from the rafters. Tyler Russell, his skin and face burnt and wrinkled, his frail body burnt to a literal crisp. Arianna Smith, found in her playset lying in a large pool of blood. The screams fell silent, suddenly as if they had been silenced by someone else.
"Abby! Abigail!" My voice rang out shrill and scared. I had to find my sister. A firm hand landed on my shoulder and I grabbed a hold of it. I turned, twisting his arm around his back.
"Where is she?" I could hear the panick in my voice as the harsh words rushed from my ears.
"You tell me." Travis spun around, shoving me away from him as he did.
"You know where she is, Travis Resson! There is a killer in this place, a murderer! And you know something about it. I know you do. You're going to let her be killed, you were going to let them harm my Abby weren't you?!" A small voice in the back of my head told me I sounded crazy and delirious, that Travis wouldn't do something that stupid. Yet he was the only match for the description, why else would he appear right as the screams ceased? Yes he was the distraction while my sister was killed. My heart pounded and I felt as if I could spit fire, if I was determined enough.
"Lizzie, I need you to listen to me, I need you to trust me." Travis stepped towards me; I felt my hands ball into fists.
"Trust you?! Trust you, you the man that can't even tell the truth half--" He stepped closer. My fist fell across his face, knocking him back a few steps. He stepped forward again, grabbed my waist and pulled me closer, forcing his lips upon mine. My mind cleared as I remembered the soft haired boy, the blue eyed jokester and best friend that I had fallen in love with months ago. I remembered who Travis was. His voice was low in my ear.
"We need to find Abby. She found the Emperor on her own, and I swear to everything, Elizabeth, I will not let her be harmed. I need you to trust me."
***
leave comments of what you think, any feedback is welcome and always appreciated. Also, please note that (as always) this is a piece from a larger work. I tend to work on the larger works bit by bit and usually post them here for convience's sake. Also, I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I don't have time to read back through it. Thanks.
"Kadie Simmons has been found dead today. These images may not be suitable for immature audiences."
It was a new name, but the same sentences have issued out of the news anchor's mouth several times this week. Always a new name, but the brutality of the killings have been the same. My eyes jerked from the slice of chocolate cake in front of me to watch the flat panel that had appeared from behind the cabinets.
"That makes six now, doesn't it?" I whispered to the chef.
"Seven." His eyes focused on the vegetables in front of him, preparing them for the stew we would have tomorrow night.
"It's weird to think a murderer could be in Camden Hills, much less a serial killer....." My voice sounded distant, even to my own ears, as I watched the images on the screen. Kadie had been found hanging from her bedroom rafters, still clutching her teddy bear. Her face was swollen, her frail body tinted with blue hues.
"Do we have to watch this, Lizzie?" Upon hearing my sister's voice I quickly turned the television off.
"Sorry, Abby...shouldn't you be in bed?" I looked at my little sister crawl into the chair. She was especially strong for an eight year old, in my opinion. Anyone else, I would think, would need help into the tall barstool.
"I'm going in a minute... I wanted a cookie, if I could please, Travis?"
"Sure thing Miss Abigail." I noticed the sharp professionalism to Travis' voice. Usually he acted with such casualness around us, never had I heard my friend call Abby "miss" anything...
"Thank you." Abby watched as Travis reheated a slightly cooled chocolate chip cookie he had made earlier in the afternoon. He handed the warm cookie to her as my mind wondered back to the day I had taken Abby and Kadie down to the stream at the edge of the property. Their laughter filled my ears as I watched them splashing each other, holding hands and picking daisies together.... Now Kadie's life had been taken from her, robbing a family of their child and my sister of her friend. I watched Abby nibble at her cookie sadly for a moment, noting the little teardrops that hung in her eyes. Turning, my eyes hovered on the chef, watching as he perfectly diced an onion, never once stopping the fluid motion of the knife to move the skins out of the way. They seemed to be pushed aside on their own. He moved with especial smoothness today, never once tripping up or getting lost in his movements. Something with him wasn't natural... there would be no way for a human being to be this...this perfect in nearly everything he does.
"It's rude to stare, Miss Elizabeth." he chided me.
"It's equally as rude to act this strange among friends," I retorted, pushing the nearly full plate across the bar. I leaned over to place a small kiss on Abby's forehead before jumping down from my perch. Travis cocked his head to the side, watching me with a trivial look.
"Rude? Well I'm sorry if I offended you." He stood toe to toe with me, his eyes flicked to where Abby sat.
"I'm going to bed, Lizzie. Will you tuck me in?" Her small voice came up from behind me, her small hand curling itself around mine.
"Sure thing, sweetie," I let the sweetness drip out of my voice as I turned to the man in front of me. "You're acting strange again, Travis. I will figure out what game you're playing." I pushed past him, deliberately jarring the bowl of tomatoes he had set on the counter. I walked Abby up to her room, tucking her in and placing a small kiss on her forehead.
"Love you angel." I smiled at my baby sister. I've watched her grow up through the years and began to realized, just now with her little blue eyes staring up at me, that she won't always be this little. My heart sank like that of a proud mother. I backed out of her room, and closed her door as my mind returned to the confusion and complex tangle that was Travis Resson. My mind always seemed to race back to him--to trying to figure out what it was behind that stony face and the large walls he had erected around himself. I had thought that surely, I had made progress. He had shared some of, what I would think to be, his darkest secrets with me over the past few weeks and now this sudden professionalism? My mind began to race fast as I stomped up to my room, leaving Abby's wing of the house for my own. I don't know what it was about him, I just get this uneasy feeling any time I'm near him. My heart races, muscles tense up, my legs beg to either run or be placed into a fighting stance. The way he smiles when he's deep in thought, he always seems to be around when I need him...or when I don't, now that I think of it. It was strange the way he acted around me... and what I heard last night? I had just been walking the house, trying to beat this damned insomnia that I had been cursed with, and I heard his voice. So naturally, I stopped, hoping my friend would be available for a late night chat. And instead I hear talk of an Emperor? And a gladiator battle...surely I had misheard... I passed into my room, allowing the door to slam shut behind me as I sat on my bed. There was something unnatural and off with this place and just what I'm not sure I could fully answer just yet, but I was determined to. I moved to the mini library that circled the support beam in the center of my room and scanned the bookshelves. Young adult fiction, fantasy, fiction....literature. I pulled Dante's Inferno off the shelf--save it for some late night reading later.. No nonfiction, no reference. I straightened up, my hands on my hips.
There had to be some answer, something out there. I sat down on the carpet, feeling mostly defeated as I stared out of the giant window. I watched as the ocean sighed and moved in the dark night, the moonlight shining down on it from its high perch in the sky. There had to be some answer to the riddles of this place, this mystical world that I had stepped into from my boring life of being an orphan.... Sounds like Narnia or Harry Potter. I chuckled at myself, amused at first by the ridiculousness of it. Unless...
Could it be real? Could these books have any probability of happening? Who says there can't be magic or talking animals, or a world so unlike our own we choose to ignore it? Surely this can exist, I mean, what if this Emperor guy is real, he exists in a world Travis has access to--
My thoughts were cut off by the scream that echoed through the house. Without my conscious say so, my body had already begun to race off to Abby's room. I raced through the corridors, anxious to get to Abby in the other wing of the house. The screams continued as my mind raced through the images that had been on the news over the past month as I dashed through this ridiculously large house. Little Kadie Simmons, seven years old, her body hanging from the rafters. Tyler Russell, his skin and face burnt and wrinkled, his frail body burnt to a literal crisp. Arianna Smith, found in her playset lying in a large pool of blood. The screams fell silent, suddenly as if they had been silenced by someone else.
"Abby! Abigail!" My voice rang out shrill and scared. I had to find my sister. A firm hand landed on my shoulder and I grabbed a hold of it. I turned, twisting his arm around his back.
"Where is she?" I could hear the panick in my voice as the harsh words rushed from my ears.
"You tell me." Travis spun around, shoving me away from him as he did.
"You know where she is, Travis Resson! There is a killer in this place, a murderer! And you know something about it. I know you do. You're going to let her be killed, you were going to let them harm my Abby weren't you?!" A small voice in the back of my head told me I sounded crazy and delirious, that Travis wouldn't do something that stupid. Yet he was the only match for the description, why else would he appear right as the screams ceased? Yes he was the distraction while my sister was killed. My heart pounded and I felt as if I could spit fire, if I was determined enough.
"Lizzie, I need you to listen to me, I need you to trust me." Travis stepped towards me; I felt my hands ball into fists.
"Trust you?! Trust you, you the man that can't even tell the truth half--" He stepped closer. My fist fell across his face, knocking him back a few steps. He stepped forward again, grabbed my waist and pulled me closer, forcing his lips upon mine. My mind cleared as I remembered the soft haired boy, the blue eyed jokester and best friend that I had fallen in love with months ago. I remembered who Travis was. His voice was low in my ear.
"We need to find Abby. She found the Emperor on her own, and I swear to everything, Elizabeth, I will not let her be harmed. I need you to trust me."
***
leave comments of what you think, any feedback is welcome and always appreciated. Also, please note that (as always) this is a piece from a larger work. I tend to work on the larger works bit by bit and usually post them here for convience's sake. Also, I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I don't have time to read back through it. Thanks.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
NaNoWriMo
So... Is it technically cheating if I do a compilation of various short stories to reach my 50,000 word goal? I mean, who can crank out a perfect book in that amount of time that they want printed into a book anyway? I'd rather have my short stories all in one place. So that's what I'm doing. I was digging through old blogs, trying to find some random ramblings that are worthy enough to even pass for something more than word vomit, edit it and compile it and BAM! Instant gratification for myself when I reach the 50,000 and can have my own book of short stories. Who cares if no one else can see it? This is for me.
So, dear people who may have been directed here by my Facebook, feel free to prowl through not only this blog but Inspirations Haven as well and comment any of your favourites along with its URL. The Best work could be revisited for edits and then into my little book of love and encouragement.
<3
Happy Writing.
So, dear people who may have been directed here by my Facebook, feel free to prowl through not only this blog but Inspirations Haven as well and comment any of your favourites along with its URL. The Best work could be revisited for edits and then into my little book of love and encouragement.
<3
Happy Writing.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Every VP Needs an outlet too...
It's 1:00 AM and I cant get any upload site to work but I need to share my flier for History CLub's participation in Pellissippi's 9/11 memorial.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Mixed Feelings
Earlier today I wrote in my Peer Tutoring class and two shorts resulted from it. The first, beautiful, hopeful, bold (and apparently completely inaccurate from what the setting should be, but nevertheless it's there and its what I want). The second is a more cynical approach to life and what's going on in mine especially. Again, expect emotional unburial.
A closed door stood before me; the music swelled from the chapel within. I stood quietly, nervously, and tightened my grip. I took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet perfume of baby's breath and roses. My eyes opened to the doors swinging wide; all of the church stood before me watching as I blushed, pink as the roses I held in my shaking hands. The crowd beamed at me. My mother dabbed at her eyes; my best friend held back a quiver. I slowly proceeded down the petal strewn aisle and saw the sea of red and white on either side of me. To my left, men straightened their kilts while the women patted their eyes. I looked straight down the aisle of this little church, and saw my love, my husband-to-be. He stood with a smile on his face and my son in front of him. They both stood radiating with happiness as Adam gave a small wave. He ran to stand by Grandma as I came to the alter. I smiled and held the hand of my love as the ceremony began....
And the second...
Now my body's on the floor and I am calling, well I'm calling out to you Can You Hear Me Now? (Hear Me Now-Framing Hanley)
My life has become an emotional tell-all. I let the bodies of the heart, soul, and mind lay open for all to see. You may observe the pain, the hurt, the regret. You may gaze at my love, my hatred. Stare down my beliefs and turn through my every thought and lie. It's chronicled perfectly for you choosing and selection. Analyze me. Observe me. I lay as open as the Bible on the nightstand of that sleazy motel you visited last weekend. The pathetic doctor unlocked the floodgate. She instigated the flooding, the neverending floodwaters of emotion and regret. Allow me to talk just for one second and you'll soon discover my life story. Bottles in my mind led to implosion and combustion. Stories and openness brings relief. Relief but vulnerability. Every thought of mine is yours to muse, to ponder. It's dominating, the way you insist to know my every thought. Its demeaning that I tell you, rather than you be mad or upset with me. In all reality, this hidden rant should stay on paper, in a journal far away from the outside intrusion. Yet it'll end up on a blog or email or other avenue I know you'll stumble upon. Why? That's what I wish to know. Why do I open everything to you? Keep it all public and pervert my own privacy and secrets? They say there's a relief in talking to strangers; a magical relief that coats your mind and soul to know you don't have to carry it around anymore. But when your stranger becomes a friend or your new interest, are you interested in them for truly them--their personality, companionship, etc etc--or do you simply enjoy that constantly open drain? Is it that person that you love or the relief they provide? How can you even tell? How do you know when you truly love and it's not just make-believe?
I've been struggling with this one for awhile. Remember these two posts were written back to back in about an hour, and the song listed at the beginning of the second is what I believe helped to inspire the latter writing. The problem is that when stream of consciousness appears as it just does, it leaves you feeling numb. Numb and unable to explain what's going on. Because of my past relationship (to any person who stumble across this and notices the three year gap between posts it's simply because of the hurtful relationship I was in), it's hard to come to grips with what love is, especially when it's a love like mine (see previous posts for more information). I'm hoping that when/if he reads this he'll understand. Thank you (to any of those random readers) for allowing the unburials and I hope to post soon.
Forever yours,
Kayy
A closed door stood before me; the music swelled from the chapel within. I stood quietly, nervously, and tightened my grip. I took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet perfume of baby's breath and roses. My eyes opened to the doors swinging wide; all of the church stood before me watching as I blushed, pink as the roses I held in my shaking hands. The crowd beamed at me. My mother dabbed at her eyes; my best friend held back a quiver. I slowly proceeded down the petal strewn aisle and saw the sea of red and white on either side of me. To my left, men straightened their kilts while the women patted their eyes. I looked straight down the aisle of this little church, and saw my love, my husband-to-be. He stood with a smile on his face and my son in front of him. They both stood radiating with happiness as Adam gave a small wave. He ran to stand by Grandma as I came to the alter. I smiled and held the hand of my love as the ceremony began....
And the second...
Now my body's on the floor and I am calling, well I'm calling out to you Can You Hear Me Now? (Hear Me Now-Framing Hanley)
My life has become an emotional tell-all. I let the bodies of the heart, soul, and mind lay open for all to see. You may observe the pain, the hurt, the regret. You may gaze at my love, my hatred. Stare down my beliefs and turn through my every thought and lie. It's chronicled perfectly for you choosing and selection. Analyze me. Observe me. I lay as open as the Bible on the nightstand of that sleazy motel you visited last weekend. The pathetic doctor unlocked the floodgate. She instigated the flooding, the neverending floodwaters of emotion and regret. Allow me to talk just for one second and you'll soon discover my life story. Bottles in my mind led to implosion and combustion. Stories and openness brings relief. Relief but vulnerability. Every thought of mine is yours to muse, to ponder. It's dominating, the way you insist to know my every thought. Its demeaning that I tell you, rather than you be mad or upset with me. In all reality, this hidden rant should stay on paper, in a journal far away from the outside intrusion. Yet it'll end up on a blog or email or other avenue I know you'll stumble upon. Why? That's what I wish to know. Why do I open everything to you? Keep it all public and pervert my own privacy and secrets? They say there's a relief in talking to strangers; a magical relief that coats your mind and soul to know you don't have to carry it around anymore. But when your stranger becomes a friend or your new interest, are you interested in them for truly them--their personality, companionship, etc etc--or do you simply enjoy that constantly open drain? Is it that person that you love or the relief they provide? How can you even tell? How do you know when you truly love and it's not just make-believe?
I've been struggling with this one for awhile. Remember these two posts were written back to back in about an hour, and the song listed at the beginning of the second is what I believe helped to inspire the latter writing. The problem is that when stream of consciousness appears as it just does, it leaves you feeling numb. Numb and unable to explain what's going on. Because of my past relationship (to any person who stumble across this and notices the three year gap between posts it's simply because of the hurtful relationship I was in), it's hard to come to grips with what love is, especially when it's a love like mine (see previous posts for more information). I'm hoping that when/if he reads this he'll understand. Thank you (to any of those random readers) for allowing the unburials and I hope to post soon.
Forever yours,
Kayy
Monday, March 21, 2011
Revival
I haven't written in awhile. In all honesty, I forgot about this blog. I have others sprinkled about now, but with a new chapter of my life definitely coming alive (more than just a baby and new relationship blooming) I think the post I've had on my mind lately will definitely be served justice here. I don't know what exactly came over me to warrant the thoughts on my mind lately. It could be the life-changing trip I just came back from where I walked the streets of Italy, Austria and Germany, watching as love bloomed not only in the lives' of those who lived in the beautiful towns, but in my tour group as well. Maybe it was the distance (ha!) between me and my new other. Maybe it's the fact I've been listening to mellow Beatles for an hour now. Either way, this new urge has arisen to write. And to write to my heart's content. I once mentioned a "sin" I had committed by writing so freely and uncovered--my emotions laid out for the world to see--or at least the stray stumbler to happen across these words of rambling. I believe I called it an unburial of feelings, or some variation of that. I just remember a funeral scene had popped into my mind. Either way.... Time for another emotional break, a rambling of words, a revival and break all in one.
How, just how did we meet? I can't remember the exact moment I saw it, nor can I remember how you got my name. Either way it happened. During my time of emotional breakdown, in the midst of the tears and cries of suicide, as I sat there in that room, you somehow caught my eye. I was desperate for anyone to talk to. I'd even talk to the Pirate in the room if he would stop accusing me of being a male for longer than three lines. Somehow, and I don't think either of us know, but somehow, you popped into my register. You showed yourself plain and clear with a simple "hey." And that's how it began.
It's not some romantic meeting in the dimly lit restaurant. It wasn't even an accidental bump in the grocery store. It was a chat room. And not even a classy one at that. It was that chat where you had to ignore the pervs, nevermind the pedos, and just hope Pirate would stop spamming and threatening to boot you long enough for something of some substance to be said. But it was Pirate--it wasn't likely. And thus, on that day after Christmas (or somewhere around there) we talked. And of course we both thought it was nothing more than a friendly chat, chitchat late at night because you couldn't sleep. Couldn't think. Couldn't function.
There's something relieving in talking to absolute strangers. Why parents condemn it I'll never know (theoretically). It's theurapeutic and relieving to talk to someone who you know won't judge you. You don't have to look them in the eye the next day, and if you truly wanted to, all you had to do was block the person and they would be stuck wondering about your secret you spilled, how you made it out, if you did. A simple delete would end the awkward, shut the relief and leave you open for a new one. Anyway...
We began to talk, and I soon developed somewhat of a crush. Something sparked, and I began private messaging this boy. But there's a problem: he's in Scotland.
Have you ever seen that sappy love story about a girl and boy meeting and following each other across the world just to be together? Did you ever think you could love someone from far away, without ever truly meeting them? Yeah, it's okay. I didn't either.
We talked, and I would find myself waiting for his screenname to pop up on my iPod. Yep, my ipod. Told you it wasn't classy or romantic in the least. But anyhow, I found myself waiting for this text, this message. some connection with this boy I had developed a connection with over the past few days. He replaced the crying, the loneliness, the sadness. It was like being at a Beatles concert (or what I would imagine it to be anyway). Complete zen. Calm. Peace. It was a thing that you hear preachers talking about at church and you have no clue what he was talking about. I did now. (And yes, I do believe this boy from Scotland was a godsend, someone to help me through my trial of need and hurt and longing for unjudgement when I didnt fully trust God yet myself.)
But anyway, I've struggled to write this for three weeks now and I've got another post on my mind so I'll finish this and maybe tell you about my boy another time. <3
forever yours,
Kayy
How, just how did we meet? I can't remember the exact moment I saw it, nor can I remember how you got my name. Either way it happened. During my time of emotional breakdown, in the midst of the tears and cries of suicide, as I sat there in that room, you somehow caught my eye. I was desperate for anyone to talk to. I'd even talk to the Pirate in the room if he would stop accusing me of being a male for longer than three lines. Somehow, and I don't think either of us know, but somehow, you popped into my register. You showed yourself plain and clear with a simple "hey." And that's how it began.
It's not some romantic meeting in the dimly lit restaurant. It wasn't even an accidental bump in the grocery store. It was a chat room. And not even a classy one at that. It was that chat where you had to ignore the pervs, nevermind the pedos, and just hope Pirate would stop spamming and threatening to boot you long enough for something of some substance to be said. But it was Pirate--it wasn't likely. And thus, on that day after Christmas (or somewhere around there) we talked. And of course we both thought it was nothing more than a friendly chat, chitchat late at night because you couldn't sleep. Couldn't think. Couldn't function.
There's something relieving in talking to absolute strangers. Why parents condemn it I'll never know (theoretically). It's theurapeutic and relieving to talk to someone who you know won't judge you. You don't have to look them in the eye the next day, and if you truly wanted to, all you had to do was block the person and they would be stuck wondering about your secret you spilled, how you made it out, if you did. A simple delete would end the awkward, shut the relief and leave you open for a new one. Anyway...
We began to talk, and I soon developed somewhat of a crush. Something sparked, and I began private messaging this boy. But there's a problem: he's in Scotland.
Have you ever seen that sappy love story about a girl and boy meeting and following each other across the world just to be together? Did you ever think you could love someone from far away, without ever truly meeting them? Yeah, it's okay. I didn't either.
We talked, and I would find myself waiting for his screenname to pop up on my iPod. Yep, my ipod. Told you it wasn't classy or romantic in the least. But anyhow, I found myself waiting for this text, this message. some connection with this boy I had developed a connection with over the past few days. He replaced the crying, the loneliness, the sadness. It was like being at a Beatles concert (or what I would imagine it to be anyway). Complete zen. Calm. Peace. It was a thing that you hear preachers talking about at church and you have no clue what he was talking about. I did now. (And yes, I do believe this boy from Scotland was a godsend, someone to help me through my trial of need and hurt and longing for unjudgement when I didnt fully trust God yet myself.)
But anyway, I've struggled to write this for three weeks now and I've got another post on my mind so I'll finish this and maybe tell you about my boy another time. <3
forever yours,
Kayy
Friday, December 26, 2008
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.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
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
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
Sunday, November 2, 2008
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. haha
Enjoy
Enjoy
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 adter 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 adter 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
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Into to Kayy Writes
Okay, so many have heard of my sorta new blog, Inspirations Haven, and well, every good writer needs an outlet.
As much as I love and adore Inspirations Haven, that's my "inspirational" blog, my practice for my dream job of writing an inspirational column.
What some don't know, is that I also want to become a published author.
And alongside my up-and-coming, working-on-it novel From Ebony To Ivory, I needed an outlet for the little Random Writings.
So thus, I found you.
I used to keep a little binder that would follow me everywhere.
But it was discovered and confiscated.
And so I thought, if it's online it cant be confiscated but rather exposed to many people.
So my little notebook that I had in addition to the binder is still my shadow, but I need a public outlet.
I need to let my voice be heard.
Will you listen?
xo
Kayy
As much as I love and adore Inspirations Haven, that's my "inspirational" blog, my practice for my dream job of writing an inspirational column.
What some don't know, is that I also want to become a published author.
And alongside my up-and-coming, working-on-it novel From Ebony To Ivory, I needed an outlet for the little Random Writings.
So thus, I found you.
I used to keep a little binder that would follow me everywhere.
But it was discovered and confiscated.
And so I thought, if it's online it cant be confiscated but rather exposed to many people.
So my little notebook that I had in addition to the binder is still my shadow, but I need a public outlet.
I need to let my voice be heard.
Will you listen?
xo
Kayy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)