SpeakHerMind13's Xanga

Nothing Else Mattered

Fri, 24 Aug 2007 04:41:14 GMT

(*Did you ever wish you could erase part of your life? I suppose it's been awhile since the last entry.*)

I suddenly felt cold. I knew my flesh had turned pasty and my expression stony. A nausea entered my stomach and threatened to escape. It was a queer feeling that made me feel like I had swallowed a bucket of worms and then preceded to get kicked in the stomach.

I felt pain through my heart that I never knew could be felt, and it physically hurt. Waves of regret and hopelessness splashed angrily within my mind. I was nothing. I had nothing. I felt as though the hobo living under the bridge had more to hope for than I. He, surely, would come closer to achieving his goals in life that I could ever imagine.

That wasn't true. I knew exactly what I wanted in life. I could imagine my dream life in ten years perfectly, but what once felt like a two-hour drive down the turnpike was now a seven light-year walk through a jungle I'd like to call my past.

I was tainted with the sins I'd already committed, and somehow I had earned myself a scarlet letter which forbid my dreams from ever coming true. That scarlet letter was a black hole in my heart, and I yearned to find a way to rip it from my world completely.

I knew that could never happen. I was stuck with my past. My scars. I could not lie about what I had done, but what I had done had somehow shaped who I was to others. No one believed, or cared to believe, who I really was. Maybe I was afraid to let them know me. Maybe I was afraid of getting hurt. Again. For the first time.

Confusion racked my being, and the room began to spin as though I'd had way too much to drink. There wasn't much I was sure about. There was nothing in the past I was sure about. I was sure about two things. One was what I wanted, however far away it now seemed. The other was what I loved. I was willing to fight for both, sacrifice for both, surrender everything else for both. Because to me nothing else mattered.

I had never felt that before either. Nothing else mattered.

(*Just some thoughts.*)

Snowless Winter Lives On

Mon, 18 Dec 2006 20:28:41 GMT

(*Happy December, Folks. Its neither cold nor warm nor temperate enough for my liking. I'm waiting for the snow to come while I get in the holiday mood. Christmas and the New Year are looming just ahead. Are you ready?*)

Oh December, the wondorous month of spending every last penny saved over the past few months. Spending it away amoungst millions of pushy, impatient, and more than a bit rude customers who are also in "the holiday mood." The weather is cold. Maybe not freezing this year, but colder than prefered. The radio and television stations were obducted and now voice the corny and rediculously squeeky voices of children or low bellow of Burl Ives. Rock, Metal, Country, even Hip Hop is a thing of the past.

But you love it. You love christmas lights (and even count the number of houses decorated with them as you drive along the wintry roads.) You love seeing a tree in almost every home, because you know that it took them the same hour and a half time to pick out the perfect tree and then twice that time to decorate it just right. Even though you had to wrestle with a rather snappy old lady over the last Playstation 3 you love that old lady. You know that she wants Christmas to be just perfect as does the rest of the world. And thinking about the inevitable feat of one man flying around the world on a bunch of flying reindeer seems funny to you, but pretending you believe in Santa Clause just brings you back to when you were a kid and could hardly sleep on Christmas night.

(*Merry PreChristmas.*)

Kate

Busy

Thu, 14 Dec 2006 21:29:38 GMT

(*I've been pretty busy lately, but here's a little something.*)

The Sun Only Blinds Some

I stared at the sunset until I went blind,
They say I'm crazy, I lost my mind,
But I can't help but hope for more.

Though I may share my romantic moments with myself,
I'm a dreamer dreaming for the most of what's left,
But I can't help but look for more,

I do a two step in Times Square for Monopoly money,
To those who have no imagination dancing looks mighty funny,
But I can't help but expect more.

Most see little productivity in feeling the wind and the waves on your cheek,
There's a lot you can learn from sailing the ocean for a week,
But I can't help but search for the most.

(*Took me five minutes to write. I'll have to fix it up a little bit later.*)

Kate

The End of the World

Sat, 02 Dec 2006 17:42:24 GMT

(*Okay, so yesterday temperatures reached over 70 degrees out which is highly unusual for December. Today, the temperature has dropped to somewhere in the 40s. Winds last night were predicted to range around 40-60 MPH -whether or not this prediction came true I was not out doors to find out. But the winds did cause local accidents including a head-on collision where one of the involved vehicles exploded. The passengers of that car did not survive. I know that the weather is all natural, but in part we can be blamed.*)

The world is ending,

there's global warming,

Holes in the ozone,

America lives on the phone.

Blame it on wildfires,

Political liars,

Or the extinction of African tigers.

Falling apart,

The world will part.

Farewell, ado, adios, sweetheart.

(*Has anyone seen War of the Worlds, Water World, etc? Not too far off.*)

Kate

What do you do when...?

Thu, 30 Nov 2006 23:31:35 GMT

No story today.

Today I am asking, nay pleading, for advice from anyone who has insight, experience, or just a hunch about the following matter to please give me some good advice whether privately or publically (I don't care.)

I have a close friend who I recently discovered is involved in drug use. They do not try hard to hide it from me or anyone and I am very concerned of what physical and criminal issues they may come across by dealing with this. The issue is a touchy one with which they have asked me not to talk about, but on occasion they will say a few words here and there about it. They know it bothers me. However, I cannot tell them to quit and we both know that. By telling them they have to quit or else I am not getting anywhere, but by not saying anything I feel that I am doing nothing. Every story I have of people I know or people I've heard of who've done pot and had it end badly has just become another story to them, and they are invincible (or "careful".) They are a great person, and I'd hate to see our relationship fall apart or end by this.

Any help?

Helpless at Home,

Kate

Here it Goes..

Thu, 30 Nov 2006 03:47:45 GMT

***I call it....MINE LOVE....silly title, sounds so selfish. Oh well, that's what I call it. It's a decent attempt at my return to writing. So how is everyone's Wednesday night going?***

    Jack Carouso watched a couple crows as they battled over what must have been the only worm left in his front yard. It was an unseasonably cool autumn morning. The first leaves had just begun to fall around the large maple tree Jack had fallen in love with upon buying the house. The dead reminders of summer fell as far as the cement walkway in front of Jack. The walkway was icy upon his bare feet. Winter was coming.
      The wooden mailbox was the third he had installed since arriving in Burrowsville. Local teenagers made a game out of destroying the weaker plastic ones. Jack opened the mailbox and pulled out the only five envelopes inside. He slid the bills the the bottom of the pile. A fancy pink envelope had caught his attention. Surely it had arrived at the wrong house. He checked the address just to be certain.
      The return address read Hawaii. Of course. His wife was on a girls' week out there. How nice of her to think of him. There were three pieces of parchment inside the envelope. The first was a postcard of the gorgeous hotel in which she was boarding. Tropical trees and beaches filled the background.
      I couldn't help but feel jealous when I saw the next picture. It was identical to the first with one exception. My beautiful wife, Clara, and her girl friends were standing in the foreground in their bathing suits.
      The third article was a piece of paper. The letter was filled with her loopy cursive handwriting.

Jack,
I'm having a wonderful vacation. I've been able to do a lot of new things: surfing, hula dancing, and thinking. Jack, I've been thinking a lot about us. When I was younger, I had so many dreams, so many plans. Then I met you. Jack, marrying you was the worst mistake I've ever made. We've fallen into a funk. Actually, we began in a funk. I think I fell in love with what you promised me. None of you're promises came true, Jack. None of them. I need more. I need to live life. You're not the man I thought I loved. Please understand that when I come home I'll be filing for devorce.
Regards,
Clara

I would have rather had a brick thrown at my head. God had hit the mute button on my world. I continued to stare at her last words "I'll be filing for devorce." My lovely Clara, we were such a great couple. What had driven her to go this far? That was her handwriting alright. It just didn't make sense. I couldn't lose her. The anger that had been whelling up inside of me was overcome with my love for her. I remembered all of our little moments together combinded with those special moments: our first kiss, our marriage, our honeymoon, the birth of Daniel, our trip to Italy, and every other day with her. I would not give up so easily.

***Well it's a start. Thanks to everyone who's been encouraging me.***

Kate

August 4th?

Mon, 27 Nov 2006 17:57:09 GMT

It's been quite awhile. Three months, in fact, since I last made an appearance of any sort on xanga. I have not been writing near as much as I would have liked mostly because of time and other distractions, but the thought of writing something has always been in the back of my mind. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. You pick up a battery or look at someone on their morning routine and BAM thoughts start pouring into your head for the next epic novel or short story masterpiece. The trouble with all this was I've never taken the time to write anything down. Not seriously anyway. Writing is an artform that must be practiced daily for a top notch performance, and I've neglected to come anywhere close.

I tried to write a poem yesterday. Writing poems has come easy to me in the past. This particular poem was to be about shootings in the area and the influx of violence in my peaceful little town. However, no words came to me that could quite describe what I was trying to put onto paper. I never want to feel so unable to write anything again. I've suffered with writer's block in the past, and I'm not really certain if this is what I am dealing with.

I need to write.

The thoughts are there.

I just can't get them out the way I've always been able to.

Wordless on the Web,

Kate

Friday, August 04, 2006

Fri, 04 Aug 2006 20:32:58 GMT

Happy Friday! I've been away the past two weeks, but its been incredible. One of those weeks included a very informative six days of writing classes. I never thought I would learn so much in so little time.

Today is a Haiku sort of day.

Topic: Summer Storm

Warm winds through my hair,

Thunder claps at lightning's awe,

Rain's the scent night wears.

Thanks, for reading. I'd love to hear what you come up with out of that topic. Try it =)

Yours in Words,

Kate

I'm Back....

Wed, 19 Jul 2006 18:10:54 GMT

It has been about a month since I have written anything whether in short story form, poetry form, or even in a random blob of letters creating words with little sense to them. In fact, it has been about a month since any words seemed to flow through me onto the keyboard or across the paper like they once had done. I have been stuck.

However, for several reasons I am no longer stuck. The first of these reasons is I have been reading a particularly well known book by a particularly well known author whom I've been meaning to read for years but somehow never did. One of my greatest inspirations is other writers, and I believe that writing and reading go hand in hand. On that same note, I have been more faithfully reading and responding to written works of other writers in my position, or close to it (unpublished with the dream of doing what they love - writing.)

Another of these reasons was the fact that I will be attending a writing conference in Montrose, Pennsylvania next week, and I do not feel at all mentally prepared for the event. This is certainly a strange sort of guilt I am feeling, but it put me in my place and I am now more eager than ever to attend my first writing conference.

The next of these reasons is due to a particularly hot and humid night where sleep was a laughing matter. I'm sure everyone has had one of those nights, the kind where one cannot find sleep, but they are not so sure they want to because issues that have been pushed or ignored from their mind for much too long are now spinning throughout it. Monday was one of those nights. What I thought about most was where I want to be in five or even ten years. I thought about how much I miss writing on a daily basis and how I haven't been managing my time very well.

The final reason is actually doesn't entirely fit with the rest of these reasons. Yesterday, on an entirely out-of-character experience on my behalf, I revealed what I hope to do, live like, with whom, and where down to every last detail. Quite frankly, I think I stunned those who where listening. You see, my personality is fun and occasionally outgoing, but I rarely ever reveal what I am thinking or what my dreams are or how I feel. Nonetheless, this is another reason why I have suddenly found my inspiration. I remembered from this experience how wonderful it is to shock an audience with not fireworks or acrobatic performances but simple words arranged in the right order. I remembered from this experience that I can be anything I want to be and I want to paint pictures with words, to shock millions with one poem, to hush a baby with a short story, to bring tears to the eyes of soldiers in just one sentence.

I want to write. How could I have forgotten that.

Fellow writers, I hope you are pleased. I now have so many splendid ideas that I do not know where to begin. Tomorrow, perhaps, I will have written the account of my dream home and life.

Fellow writers,
Thank You

Yours,
Kate

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Sun, 04 Jun 2006 01:35:09 GMT

(*It's been quite awhile since I've last been on here to write and comment. Here's a poem that I wrote a little over a month ago. I have another one that I might post a little later on that I like better, but this one is simple.

Enjoy.*)

Beautifully Ugly

Ugly Child, drenched in failure,
Too young to master the sinful world.

Beautiful Child, cloaked in innocence,
Too young to know, too young to care.

Beautifully Ugly,
You make your mistakes.

Ugly Beauty,
Mistakes make you you.

(*Thanks for reading. I'd love to see who's still on xanga. Comment me, and, as always, I'll be happy to read your work.)

(*Every writer needs a little motivation from other writers.*)

Kate