post #3

0:00-0:10 - Drum kicks.
0:11-0:20 - Bass pounds.
0:21-0:30 - Guitars screech.
0:31-0:40 - Resounding voice.
0:41-0:50 - Haunting verse.
0:51-1:00 - Chorus begins.
1:01-1:10 - I melt.
1:11-1:20 - Headbanging ensues.
1:21-1:30 - Hair flying.
1:31-1:40 - Fully soaring.
1:41-1:50 - Chorus returns.
1:51-2:00 - Belting along.
2:01-2:10 - In awe.
2:11-2:20 - Bridge attacks.
2:21-2:30 - Favorite part.
2:31-2:40 - Vocalist's skill.
2:41-2:50 - Beauty unmatched.
2:51-3:00 - Song over.
3:01-3:10 - Perfect bliss.
3:11-3:20 - Replay button.

This is what happens when I listen to a new song.

post #2

"your eyes look like kitties."

Okay, I'm sure my friend Camille would like to explain this quote further, but I am not letting her; not only because it has nothing to do with what I'm talking about today, but also because it is just brilliant and needs no explanation. My eyes look like kitties, everyone. This is my greatest achievement.

Onto my topic of the day: awkwardness. Mine, more specifically.

I am an extremely awkward person. I have discovered this when I was in 4th or 5th grade. I never say or do the things I should (well, the things society says I should). I have finally grown into my awkwardness this year, five or six years after its discovery.

To put it simply, I am not normal.

One minute I'm the loudest person in the room, the next I mumble nervously, not wanting to be heard. Sometimes I can't look into people's eyes, because I don't want them to see me. A friend of mine told me that my eyes were my soul, completely. Since then, I'm the shifty-eyed girl who doesn't know how to socialize like a normal human being. I stutter, I stumble, I embarrass myself. It's not that I wasn't taught; I most certainly was taught how to meet people, and socialize with them. I've never really been one to listen when I should, though.

I love my friends dearly, and I love being around them, but a lot of the time, I'd rather be alone. I used to think this was just introvert syndrome, but lately, I'm not sure. I feel like introverts never like to share their opinions, or be vocal. I love sharing my opinions. Even more, I love offending people. Unfortunate and dangerous, I know.

I'm kind of immature. I blurt out completely unnecessary statements at the worst times. I enjoy being loud and obnoxious in movie theaters and other dark, people-filled rooms. I laugh too long, too hard at things that aren't even remotely funny. I am overly affectionate, but I can't give a non-awkward hug for anything.

You'd think that after realizing all this, all my quirks and imperfections, that I could improve myself, perfect myself. But I can't. More important than that, I don't want to. I don't want to live life the way others want me to. I want to be loud, I want to be quiet, I want to be outgoing, I want to be alone. I want to be me, and that's all that matters.

And I'd rather be a first-rate version of myself than a second-rate version of someone else.

So you. Yeah, you. The one sitting in front of a computer screen, reading this blog.

I'm not going to change for you; I hope you don't mind.

post #1

first off, chandler says hi (she asked me to say this. ha.)

second, i refuse to use proper capitalization rules in this post. deal.

third, i have finally reached my boiling point. i never thought it would happen so early in the year, but now, at the very end of october beginning of november, i have decided that if one more person decides to add to my load of stress, whether it be another assignment, more discouragement, anything that has to do with work ever, get them away from me.

how did i get to this point?


edit: i began writing this last week, and never finished it. but i feel the same way now as i did then, so let me further explain.

sleep has become a myth. well, not really, because i fall asleep over my textbooks every night. homework is the only thing i have time to do. writing is a luxury (even if i have a novel to finish by the end of the month. bah). and teachers are absolutely, positively, incandescently my least favorite people on the face of this earth. is it really realistic to make all your tests on the same day? no, it's not, because i forget to study for one of said tests and fail. i don't like to fail. i keep failing. i really want to not fail. and now i have to go study some more.

happy first blog of the quarter?

post #20

Dreams. Desires. They consume us, drive us our whole lives. They change so drastically as years pass.

As a little girl, I wanted to be a princess. A Disney princess, specifically. Every morning I'd wake up, stand in my crib, and sing Cinderella songs. I waited for birds to fly in through my window and get me dressed for the day; they never did, but that never kept me from singing.

I also pretended to be Ariel from The Little Mermaid whenever I went to the beach. I'd sit in the water, belt Part of Your World at the top of my lungs, and keep my heels together. It made me look like I had a mermaid fin... or so I thought.

As I grew up, my dreams changed. Although I'd never pass up a chance to be Cinderella or Ariel for a day, it's not a top priority anymore.

In 7th grade, my alternative music obsession began. Ever since, I've wanted to be a rock star. You know, leather jackets, heavy black eyeliner, the whole nine yards... more or less. Most importantly, I'd be a fearless performer, singing my own music, amazing music.

Though I'd love to be in an all-girl punk band, I'm pretty sure it could never happen (I'm also pretty sure my mom wouldn't approve). So I'll move on to other dreams.

I don't have a specific dream, goal, plan set in life yet. Maybe something that involves writing. Or music. Or both. I'll look to God to see what He has in store. Whatever it is, I know it'll be realistic.

post #19

what about taking this empty cup and filling it up with a little bit more of innocence? - jason mraz 

I live in a sad generation. A cheap-thrill seeking, vice-ridden world. Where has innocence gone? Does it always go with age? I'm sure it does; I've heard it does. But I never thought it would be this bad. What I see in school everyday, what I hear. It's... disheartening, to say the least.

Now I sound like an adult.

But honestly, what's going on? 

When did it become the norm for over 20 songs out of iTunes Top 100 to have explicit lyrics?

When did kids come to the conclusion that the only way to have fun is to completely screw up their lives? 

When were these kids told that drinking and drugs would take away their pain?

When did sharing a kiss become... not enough? When did relationships become validated by that "next level", that level that doesn't truly belong at this age?

When did it become okay to judge someone's worth by their appearances? When did we lose the courage to be honest with someone, and instead, bully anonymously?

When did it all go wrong?

Well, I think it all started in the beginning...

post #18

Prompt: Write through the perspective of someone else meeting you for the first time.


She is confusing, all darting eyes and wild hair. Glasses frame her round face, hiding the darting brown orbs. They are focused on the ground now; at her feet. More specifically, the blue-green nail polish that her toes were painted. She looks up.

"H-hi," she stammers, waving awkwardly in my general direction. Eyes to the ground again.

"Hi." I offer my hand to her. She takes it in a surprisingly strong grip. She shakes it, looking like she was fighting to look into my eyes. Flattering. "What's your name?" I ask.

"Uh, Amy."

I nod.

If I had called the previous minutes awkward, I was so criminally mistaken. We continue to stand there in the most painfully awkward silence in the history of the world. Until, that is, she throws me another awkward wave and speed-walks away from me; head down, feet shuffling, eyes darting, hair flying.

I suppose that's just Amy.

post #17

It's sea green.
Sea green with circles.
Sea green with yellow circles.
Sea green with yellow and pink circles.
Sea green with yellow, pink, and purple circles.

It smells like home.

It's soft.
Soft and comforting.
Soft, comforting, warm.
Soft, comforting, warm, security.
Soft, comforting, warm, security blanket.