While most people were celebrating the fact we had a full 2-week break from school, I was groaning at the fact I'd be working through the holidays. Even Christmas Eve and Christmas day. Sigh. I really miss sleeping into 1--okay, okay, 3 in the afternoon; getting those random wake-up calls from Harrison before he and Sadie storm into my house to pick me up to "do stuff;" generally, hanging out with my friends.
But wait! There's more...
I just had to request New Year's Eve and New Year's Day off. Sadie's is going to be amazing!
.:~o*'Kaylyn'o*~:.
27.12.07
22.12.07
Suffocating
I'm not well
as you can tell.
This is hell.
It's hell.
Awful, wretched, bloody hell.
You wish to fix me
twist me,
mold me,
shape me,
make me,
into your own.
How bold!
How droll.
How cold.
You try to make it right
but (to be honest)
it's quite
annoying
boring
I'm snoring.
I'm suffocating
drowning
trying
to figure it out.
What's this all about?
What's it all about?
Will no one save me?
Is there no bravery
left in the world?
.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.
as you can tell.
This is hell.
It's hell.
Awful, wretched, bloody hell.
You wish to fix me
twist me,
mold me,
shape me,
make me,
into your own.
How bold!
How droll.
How cold.
You try to make it right
but (to be honest)
it's quite
annoying
boring
I'm snoring.
I'm suffocating
drowning
trying
to figure it out.
What's this all about?
What's it all about?
Will no one save me?
Is there no bravery
left in the world?
.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.
14.12.07
Accepted
When reading J.K. Rowling's novel, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, I have to say one of the most memorable parts is when the main character gets his letter from Hogwarts. "Dear Mr. Potter," I remember perfectly from the motion picture, "we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..." I think this was a very important part because it lets the reader know everything is about to change for Harry.
I decided to start my blog this way because just recently I received my acceptance letter from one of the schools I applied to for college. My first reaction (much unlike Potter) was excitement. I began squealing and jumping around. I felt like I was on top of the world. Then, as I sat on my couch reading the letter for the zillionth time, I realized something: It's beginning.
Before I know it I'll be moving into a dorm, meeting some stranger I'm supposed to live with, signing up for classes and starting "the rest of my life." This feeling is strange... different. On the one hand, I'm excited. To think I'll be out on my own with no one to answer to but myself. However, I'll also be leaving behind the things I've held dear for so many years. But it is relieving to know I do have somewhere to go once I graduate high school.
Well, I've got my letter... And just like Harry, I find myself at the beginning of a journey of self-discovery and self-realization.
Wish me luck!
.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.
I decided to start my blog this way because just recently I received my acceptance letter from one of the schools I applied to for college. My first reaction (much unlike Potter) was excitement. I began squealing and jumping around. I felt like I was on top of the world. Then, as I sat on my couch reading the letter for the zillionth time, I realized something: It's beginning.
Before I know it I'll be moving into a dorm, meeting some stranger I'm supposed to live with, signing up for classes and starting "the rest of my life." This feeling is strange... different. On the one hand, I'm excited. To think I'll be out on my own with no one to answer to but myself. However, I'll also be leaving behind the things I've held dear for so many years. But it is relieving to know I do have somewhere to go once I graduate high school.
Well, I've got my letter... And just like Harry, I find myself at the beginning of a journey of self-discovery and self-realization.
Wish me luck!
.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.
9.12.07
Haha. Life.
Life is really... funny.
When it comes right down to it, life is scary. It's like this unmovable force that thrusts you forward into growth and maturity while you desperately cling to the comforting past. And that's where memory comes in, I guess, to help you through the rough times of break-ups and rumors with thoughts of your elementary school friends or your first kiss.
People are always talking about how their life is so bad. How they find themselves in a tunnel with no light. But is their life so bad? After all, life is nothing more than a collection of time. Now how you decide to spend that time is where living takes place. So how can your life be bad? It doesn't make much sense to me. There's no such thing as "bad" time. A minute is a minute. A year a year. A life... well, yeah.
This "self-evaluation" of life (if you wanna call it that) comes from my sudden realization that I'm not the person I thought I was. The girl I used to be. I thought I was brave, outgoing. Apparently not. The old me would've have been able to march right up to [censored for privacy] and tell him/her/it exactly how I feel. How could the same girl who boldly asked out a senior when she was only a sophomore find herself suddenly shy around another? There must be some unexplainable force pushing me to consider consequences and the dangers of imbalance. Haha. Life.
I had this thought when starting this blog. It doesn't really apply now that I've gone off on the tangent, but I'm going to put it here anyway (because I think it's really deep). If I wasn't so sure someone else said it before me, I'd say you could quote me on this. But I am, so don't. (Unless it hasn't been said. Then, by all means, quote me.) :
One has to die in order to be immortal.
.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.
When it comes right down to it, life is scary. It's like this unmovable force that thrusts you forward into growth and maturity while you desperately cling to the comforting past. And that's where memory comes in, I guess, to help you through the rough times of break-ups and rumors with thoughts of your elementary school friends or your first kiss.
People are always talking about how their life is so bad. How they find themselves in a tunnel with no light. But is their life so bad? After all, life is nothing more than a collection of time. Now how you decide to spend that time is where living takes place. So how can your life be bad? It doesn't make much sense to me. There's no such thing as "bad" time. A minute is a minute. A year a year. A life... well, yeah.
This "self-evaluation" of life (if you wanna call it that) comes from my sudden realization that I'm not the person I thought I was. The girl I used to be. I thought I was brave, outgoing. Apparently not. The old me would've have been able to march right up to [censored for privacy] and tell him/her/it exactly how I feel. How could the same girl who boldly asked out a senior when she was only a sophomore find herself suddenly shy around another? There must be some unexplainable force pushing me to consider consequences and the dangers of imbalance. Haha. Life.
I had this thought when starting this blog. It doesn't really apply now that I've gone off on the tangent, but I'm going to put it here anyway (because I think it's really deep). If I wasn't so sure someone else said it before me, I'd say you could quote me on this. But I am, so don't. (Unless it hasn't been said. Then, by all means, quote me.) :
One has to die in order to be immortal.
.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.
4.12.07
Savvy?
So, in honor of Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World's End DVD release, and also resulting from the monotony that is Mrs. Washburn's 6th hour class, I've decided to write a pirate-themed short. It's my first time so don't expect anything great.
____________
27 Sept.
30 Sept
The men are beginning to notice my lack of sleep. It affects my better judgement. Just this morning my first mate, Young Masbrow, pulled me aside while the rest for the crew ate their dinner. "Captain Archer," he said to me, "I've known you since I was boy. We've seen many things together..."
It had been hours since my last meal and I was beginning to feel fatigued. My patience was short. "Out with it, boy." I spat.
"Sir," he went on, "the men are becoming concerned about your health. Mostly your mental health. They asked that I talk to you about this. So tell me," he looked into my eyes and I in his, "what troubles you?"
He was right. The men had a right to know. But I couldn't tell him. I couldn't let my crew know of their captain's weakness. This, too, will pass. I'm sure of it.
____________
(From the Captain's Log found at the wreckage of the merchant ship, the Muerte.)
27 Sept.
I found myself pacing the deck of Muerte once again last night. Or, rather, early this morning. My dreams--well, I speak in this case of one particular reoccurring dream--have awoken me once again and I was unable to fall back into a peaceful slumber. The dream is always the same: I am a portrait of my younger self on the shores of Costa Verde. As I walk the beach, the waves playfully brush against my ankles; almost as if to beckon me towards the sea. I continue to walk with seemingly no destination in mind when I strange sight catches my eye. A single black sail rises from the horizon and with it an entire ship begins the take form. As it draws nearer, I can't help but to notice the waves begin to darken to--well, to put it quite simply, the color of blood. The sky is black despite the daytime hour. Bewildered, I stand there on the shore waiting for the ship to make buff. It draws nearer and I begin to notice one more strange thing about this monstrous ship: It lacks a man at the helm. There is no crew. This is a demon ship from the pits of Hell risen to claim my soul in payment for my transgressions! I begin to think. Before the ship can reach the shore, however, I awake in a cold sweat with my heart racing. For three nights, I have pulled on my boots and climbed to the deck in order to clear my mind of such dark thoughts. It doesn't seem to help much.
John Archer,
Captain
30 Sept
The men are beginning to notice my lack of sleep. It affects my better judgement. Just this morning my first mate, Young Masbrow, pulled me aside while the rest for the crew ate their dinner. "Captain Archer," he said to me, "I've known you since I was boy. We've seen many things together..."
It had been hours since my last meal and I was beginning to feel fatigued. My patience was short. "Out with it, boy." I spat.
"Sir," he went on, "the men are becoming concerned about your health. Mostly your mental health. They asked that I talk to you about this. So tell me," he looked into my eyes and I in his, "what troubles you?"
He was right. The men had a right to know. But I couldn't tell him. I couldn't let my crew know of their captain's weakness. This, too, will pass. I'm sure of it.
John Archer,
Captain
______________
Sorry about the length. I got lost in my own wirting and forgot where I was going.
.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.
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