Too lazy to type...

Candid thoughts on graduation, college, life...

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

The End of an Era

With the help of modern technology, this will post as the event is actually happening rather than in retrospect or predicting the future...

Right about now, the coliseum is filled with hundreds of people, their chatter sounding more like a monotonous buzz than actual dialogue. The attendants are weaving their way in and out of the more or less neatly arranged rows of anticipating students. I'm standing here, between Lindsay Hazel and Amber Hasty, a spot I've gotten used to over the past four years. And, as I think about it, this will be the first time in 17 years I'll be recognized before an Amber. Poetic justice in its own twisted way.

The buzzing subsides as the band begins to play pomp and circumstance. In that moment, 300 plus students all go silent, their hearts nearly beating to identical rhythms. Du duh. Du duh. "Okay, everyone," one of the teachers who was unfortunate enough to work the holding cell this afternoon says. "Remember, smile." In unison, the class of 2008 exhales. With the pride of his class with him and the actual class behind him, Caleb Abshire steps forward into the coliseum.Du duh. Du duh. Hundreds of flashes go off, documenting this momentous occasion. People cheer, air horns are sounded and even--yes--a cow bell or two ring. Cheers echo throughout the hollowed dome and last until John-Paul Zimmerman takes his seat.

All too soon it ended with the principal making one final announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you..." Du duh. Du duh. "The class of two thousand..." Du duh. Du duh. "..and eight!!" The coliseum explodes with laughter and good cheer. Hats fly into the air as people begin to flood he floor. It's over. We've made it.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

Yeah, I stole it! Do something.

I WANT to be happy.
I FEEL like crying way more than I should.
I SING in the shower, in the car, a lot.
I URGE to see change.
I NEED stability, order, safety.
I HATE ignorance.
I ENVY natural beauty.
I REGRET The Incredibles.
I CRY at the end of RENT. Everytime.
I THINK about the future.
I YELL when I'm angry. And hurt.
I MAKE stories.
I PUMP IT UP!
I DESIRE true love.
I DEMAND a fair chance.
I WORK for change.
I LIE to avoid conflict.
I WATCH entirely too much tv.
I ASK why?
I SLACK off.
I KEEP secrets.
I CHANCE a lot to fate.
I LUST ...sorry, Jesus.
I IGNORE things not worth my time.
I BREATHE ...duh!
I FORGET to say how much I appreciate you.
I LOVE whole-heatedly.
I KNOW my limits.
I FORGIVE if you ask, earnestly.
I DESPISE your wastefulness.
I BRAG about my laptop. But it's sooo AWESOME!
I HURT when you yell at me.
I PROCRASTINATE like a second religion.
I CAN only dream.
I CAN'T be immortal.
I HIDE behind a mask of naivety.
I PROMISE to always be there as long as you want me.
I LOOK at my life and say, "Damn, how'd I get so lucky?".
I SNORE maybe?
I LEARN when I want to.
I SCARE easily.
I DANCE to the beat of my own drum.
I AVOID conflict.
I WAIT for my chance.
I EAT when I'm bored.
I STUDY psht.
I BUY smartly
I DRIVE inattentively.
I STEAL ...NO.
I FIGHT battles worth it.
I GIVE in a heartbeat.
I TAKE what I'm given.
I CONFRONT ...no.
I SLEEP a lot.
I FLIRT shamelessly.
I BITE if you like that ;).
I IMAGINE a world of my own.
I TOUCH and watch it all slip away
I ARGUE only in debate. And when provoked to.
I INSIST on my privacy.
I ASPIRE to be that published author.
I CHEAT with sign language
I GO to the Rock.
I DIE without you.
I BITCH when I'm in pain.
I PAY what I owe.
I DEFINE according to what I've always known.
I JUDGE though I shouldn't.
I DRAW in the margins.
I WALK --okay, I admit it, quickly.
I WAKE to the sound of my phone.
I SCREAM when I'm scared.
I PRAY a lot.
I SPEAK quickly.
I PLAY on the internets.
I THANK God for everything.
I READ fantasy, anything that provides an escape.
I DREAM day and night.
I ACT like the child I am.
I VENT to my sister.
I WISH whenever I find the chance.
I DO not believe you just read all this.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

Like a bad dream you can't wake from

Thought I'd try a different way of writing. Here goes:

It wasn't supposed to to happen like this...

"Is this Emily Thompson?"

We were supposed to be happy...

"This is Tommy Parker of the Chicago Police Department. I'm sorry to tell you this, but your husband's been in a car accident..."

We were going to share our lives together...

"Ma'am, we had trouble locating his next of kin. Did your husband have any family here in Chicago. We like to inform the families when things look as though they are going... badly."

We were going to live...

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

Faceless Terror

Her countenance is unlike any other,
for she is your best friend, your enemy, your lover.

She holds the world in the palms of her hands;
along with your hopes, your dreams, and your demands.

She only bends to Her will and Her will alone,
saying goodbye to all you’ve ever known.

And She will turn in the blink of an eye,
leaving you begging God why.

She strikes like lightning, bright and bold
and all your secrets are foretold.

You may worship Her if you please,
but She will bring you to your knees.

Stand in amazement and watch Her create,
You will never see such talent--such passion than in the artwork of a bitch called Fate.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'o*~:.

Damn you, Natasha. I need a pocket full of sunshine.

The Psych AP test is tomorrow. I should be studying. I really, really should be studying. But I can't. I can barely focus right now. So, in an attempt to make sense of the storm that's raging inside my head, I'm going to throw some psych terms into this blog. Hold on, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

According to Maslow, we all need to fulfill a hierarchy of needs in order to achieve self-actualization; the highest form of living. Physiological needs should be met first: food, water, shelter, etc. I'm full. Heh, check. Next, our safety needs... No check.

While away with my friend today, I got the strangest call from my daddy. "Kaylyn, you was in my room today?" Psht. As if. Why the hell would I be in your room? "Well, someone was in here...All my stuff is all over the room. Someone went through them cabinets. It's on your momma's side, too." You're crazy, old man. How can you be so toasted at 11am? "Well, somebody was in here..." Well, it wasn't me. "Aww... and I see where they came in, too. Right through this window. Hell, they done broke the window and clammed in here. Somebody broke into the house." Excuse me? Come again. Broke in?!? Our house? My house? Robbers... in my room? "Okay then. I'll call your momma."

That's it then. My safety needs aren't being met at the moment. Which makes it damn near impossible to focus on anything else. The need for safety is dominating my self. I feel so guilty. If I had been home... I should've been home. But I wasn't because I was out with a friend. Out of city. Out of state, actually. Without parental consent. Without parental knowledge... If I had been at home... Assigning blame, I'm sure is a common reaction of guilt. But is it common to blame one's self? If I had been home, I could've stopped them... I could've called the police. I could've... died.

If I had only been home...

.:~o*'Kaylyn'o*~:.

The Final Countdown

He was yelling. Again. He was always yelling about something or another these days. "I told you to put the remote back when you're on that computer," he would say. Or "Wash them dishes; today." It was always something never clean enough, never in the right place, never correct in his eyes.

Fuck him. She didn't need him anymore. Seventeen years brought nothing but the memories of his absense from birthday parties, "family" meetings, school functions, awards nights. She wondered where this learned dependence for him had manifested itself within her. There were plenty of people who survived and thrived without presence such as his. So why did she feel the need for him? Why put up with this shit? There were tests to study for, finals to take, classes to pass.

Three weeks. Just three weeks. She repeated it over and over in her head until it sounded more like an occult chant than a reminder. In three weeks she would be gone and she'd have think very hard about ever coming back to this place. The forms had been filled out in plenty of time. Now, all there was to do was wait. Wait here, with all of his senseless bullshit and take it, until June 2nd - liberation day. She would shed tears for those who would be left behind. But not for him. Never for him. He hadn't deserved them. He'd never deserve them from her. She refused to grant him the satisfaction.

As she pounded at the keyboard in a frenzy of emotion and thought, his voice poured into her ear. "Don't forget to do them dishes tonight." It was more of an order than a reminder.

She slammed into the keyboard, typing very quickly to catch the moment in its rawest form. "Yes sir." she said simply, turning her attention back to her work. She didn't bother taking her eyes from the monitor.

"And I mean all of them. Not just what'll fit in that dishwasher. There's no excuse for that. You hear me?"

Was there no end to this? Must she be constantly reminded of the oppression she felt by him? The disgust at the sound of his voice? The sinking feeling in her heart when he enters a room?

"Okay, Daddy."

Save. Publish blog.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

So, even though I've already been accepted to Southern, I'm still getting letters from other (very persistent) colleges. Here's a letter I've gotten from Northwestern:

"Whoah! What a ride!
This thing called life you mist take in a stride.
You began in kindergarten, writing your name;
This was the first step in your journey to fame.
Second grade proved to ride your nerve,
As cursive writing made you find that curve.
Fifth grade presented you with multiplication tables,
But now pre-calculus? Are you able?
A great big change in junior high-
To that one-classroom-day you said goodbye.
Now it's classes, teachers and notebook change-
it's enough to drive you quite insane.
Guys found girls and girls found guys.
I'm sure you dealt with sigh and cries.
Your freshman year you wanted to hide,
But you couldn't. You'd just learned to drive!
Dances and dating - it was all real fun.
You finally made it, way to go!
But guess what? It gets better you know!
Everywhere you turn the choices abound;
It's enough to spin your head round and round,
One of the biggest, most important you'll make
Is which college to choose. Your future's at stake!
I must admit, I'm partial you know,
But Northwestern State is the way to go.
The people are friendly, there's help all around-
Plus you'll be so impressed with the beauty of town.
You owe it to yourself to give us a look.
You won't find our beauty in any old book.
The first thing you do is apply - go ahead!
Then choose your major - art or pre-med?
If you don't know your major, it's no big deal;
You have time to decide so don't spin your wheels.
Education's important but happiness is too,
Apply and come visit, see if NSU is for you!"

If I wasn't sure about it before, I definitely am now! Haha. Nice try, NSU.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.