Callie Daniels settled down into a chair at one of the few remaining tables in the crowded café. She set her steaming coffee cup down on the marble tabletop and dropped her bag into the empty seat next to her. Shrugging out of her red pea coat, she pushed her brown hair out of her eyes and pulled a notebook from her bag. The notebook was nondescript: a blue leather journal about the size of a wallet. She glanced around at all of the people around her, chatting over lattes, loudly gossiping about the newest celebrity scandal, scurrying in from the snow falling delicately to the earth.
Her gaze landed on a man in the corner of the café. The man was older but she could still see the remnants of a handsome face in the laugh lines around his mouth and the way his eyes shone as he quietly read his paper, pausing every so often to drink from a dark green coffee mug. Callie could tell right away that this man was intriguing, like if James Bond was a grandpa.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Revised ending to Like the Sun...
“You idiot,” she gasped out as tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.
“You still love me right?” Icarus’ charred skin split around a slight smile, his eyes gleaming up at her.
Robbed of the ability to speak, Kyra could only nod her head, crying still.
“Good. I can’t live without sunshine.” He took a deep shuddering breath and coughed up more brackish water. “Help me up?”
“No, no! Lie still! I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” Kyra smoothed a lock of his wet hair from his forehead.
“Stay here.” He whispered, his strength nearly gone.
Kyra nodded her head vigorously and swiped at her cheeks. She couldn’t tell if her palms were wet from sea water or her own tears. Her gaze roved to the cliffs and the rocky path that wound up through vast walls of granite, leading to the sanctuary of the city. There was no possible way that she could drag Icarus all the way there without hurting him further. Of the ideas that miraculously popped into her head, only two she would even consider: waiting for help to come to them or heading up the path to get help by herself. The latter of the two she nixed in the space of a heartbeat. She settled into the sand, her fingers in his, to wait.
“Kyra…” Icarus murmured.
“Hmm?”
“Will you marry me? I don’t want to wait for our parents to decide things. We are getting married, not them.” His face was now twisted with a mix of pain and determination.
She laughed then. He looked so serious and she knew that he was serious about the whole thing. He did want to marry her. “You already know that answer.” Gently Kyra leaned over and pressed her lips to his burnt cheek.
Her heart couldn’t bear to hope at that moment, though, as her eyes wandered to his beaten form.
A commotion sounded just down the beach. From her vantage point, she could see a crew of four fishermen, pulling in their boat and attempting to haul their day’s catch to shore. Kyra jumped to her feet and raced towards them.
“Oh, please help us! Help!” she shouted at the men.
The men turned towards her and she knew that all they could see was a crazy, wet girl with feathers in her hair running around on the beach.
“My fiancé. He…he had an accident. Please, I need help getting him back to the city. He’s hurt very badly and I can’t get him up there myself.” She found that she had started to cry.
The men never said anything other than a few muffled “yes, we will help you”s. Kyra led them back to Icarus who had drifted into unconsciousness from pain and shock. Kyra’s didn’t know what to do other than reach for Icarus’ hand and hold his long fingers tightly in her grasp, her an anchor in the storm of her fear.
Icarus woke soon after the men had taken him to the infirmary, though he didn’t seem to see anything around him. The doctors attended to great burn marks that covered his skin and the mess of his broken leg.
They asked questions that Kyra was not comfortable answering. She wished to keep that day’s occurrences secret. All through the long nigh that Icarus silently wept in pain, she savored his words, locking them up inside her ears, hearing his voice repeating them back to her.
Sometime, in the middle of the night, Icarus fully woke up. Kyra hadn’t been able to sleep; she had been praying to any and all gods that would listen, praying with her lips and her soul for Icarus to live through the night.
Tiny streaks of light filtered through the doorway, lighting up Icarus’ face.
“Hey, sunshine.” Icarus whispered.
“You still love me right?” Icarus’ charred skin split around a slight smile, his eyes gleaming up at her.
Robbed of the ability to speak, Kyra could only nod her head, crying still.
“Good. I can’t live without sunshine.” He took a deep shuddering breath and coughed up more brackish water. “Help me up?”
“No, no! Lie still! I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” Kyra smoothed a lock of his wet hair from his forehead.
“Stay here.” He whispered, his strength nearly gone.
Kyra nodded her head vigorously and swiped at her cheeks. She couldn’t tell if her palms were wet from sea water or her own tears. Her gaze roved to the cliffs and the rocky path that wound up through vast walls of granite, leading to the sanctuary of the city. There was no possible way that she could drag Icarus all the way there without hurting him further. Of the ideas that miraculously popped into her head, only two she would even consider: waiting for help to come to them or heading up the path to get help by herself. The latter of the two she nixed in the space of a heartbeat. She settled into the sand, her fingers in his, to wait.
“Kyra…” Icarus murmured.
“Hmm?”
“Will you marry me? I don’t want to wait for our parents to decide things. We are getting married, not them.” His face was now twisted with a mix of pain and determination.
She laughed then. He looked so serious and she knew that he was serious about the whole thing. He did want to marry her. “You already know that answer.” Gently Kyra leaned over and pressed her lips to his burnt cheek.
Her heart couldn’t bear to hope at that moment, though, as her eyes wandered to his beaten form.
A commotion sounded just down the beach. From her vantage point, she could see a crew of four fishermen, pulling in their boat and attempting to haul their day’s catch to shore. Kyra jumped to her feet and raced towards them.
“Oh, please help us! Help!” she shouted at the men.
The men turned towards her and she knew that all they could see was a crazy, wet girl with feathers in her hair running around on the beach.
“My fiancé. He…he had an accident. Please, I need help getting him back to the city. He’s hurt very badly and I can’t get him up there myself.” She found that she had started to cry.
The men never said anything other than a few muffled “yes, we will help you”s. Kyra led them back to Icarus who had drifted into unconsciousness from pain and shock. Kyra’s didn’t know what to do other than reach for Icarus’ hand and hold his long fingers tightly in her grasp, her an anchor in the storm of her fear.
Icarus woke soon after the men had taken him to the infirmary, though he didn’t seem to see anything around him. The doctors attended to great burn marks that covered his skin and the mess of his broken leg.
They asked questions that Kyra was not comfortable answering. She wished to keep that day’s occurrences secret. All through the long nigh that Icarus silently wept in pain, she savored his words, locking them up inside her ears, hearing his voice repeating them back to her.
Sometime, in the middle of the night, Icarus fully woke up. Kyra hadn’t been able to sleep; she had been praying to any and all gods that would listen, praying with her lips and her soul for Icarus to live through the night.
Tiny streaks of light filtered through the doorway, lighting up Icarus’ face.
“Hey, sunshine.” Icarus whispered.
Monday, November 29, 2010
'Call Me Crazy'
So. I like to write short stories. I know there is at least one other person that reads my blog that is an awesome writer and would like to maybe be part of a short story collection. I have been mulling over the phrase 'call me crazy.' I can work it into a few of the stories I currently have. If anyone would like to join this absurd venture, go for it! I need some co-writers! Anyways, the lineup that I have so far, in no particular order is as follows:
Magnificent Miranda + Powerful Jimmy by Autumn Ladyga
Shoreline: A Play by Autumn Ladyga
Like the Sun by moi
Woman Sells Hubby's Organs in Online Auction by moi
and possibly Pancakes and Poppies, also by moi.
MORE WOULD BE EXCELLENT!
Thanks!
Love, me
Magnificent Miranda + Powerful Jimmy by Autumn Ladyga
Shoreline: A Play by Autumn Ladyga
Like the Sun by moi
Woman Sells Hubby's Organs in Online Auction by moi
and possibly Pancakes and Poppies, also by moi.
MORE WOULD BE EXCELLENT!
Thanks!
Love, me
Friday, November 26, 2010
Dresses
I have recently discovered that I absolutely love to try on dresses; every type of dress imaginable. I love little black dresses and dresses that hug my curves, sweater dresses, sundresses, long/short dresses, strapless dresses, off the shoulder dresses, dresses with crazy patterns, et cetera. I love dresses. I love dresses that normally you would never ever pull off the rack and you find that they make your hips look fantastic. But more than looking good is feeling good. I put on a clingy red dress at T.J. Maxx this morning and knew that it didn't look good on me because I didn't feel good in the dress. Later, at Kohls, I put on this black and pinkish-red silk strapless dress and knew that I looked really good. The dress fit me almost like a second skin and it accentuated all the good things. More importantly, I NOTICED the good things. (And the fact that I have extremely pasty white legs.) I noticed how tiny my waist is and my strong shoulders and toned legs. I noticed that I genuinely smiled at myself in the mirror, all the while thinking 'Hey good lookin!' I was happy to look at my reflection today which is something I cannot ever remember doing. Crazy how a dress can change your day.
Like the Sun...
Like the Sun
“Are you ready for this?” Icarus asks his best friend, gripping her hand tightly in his and curling his toes on the rim of the cliff.
“As ready as Persephone is to go stay in hell for half a year. Are you?”
“What do you think?”
Kyra turns her gaze up to the sun and then glances back at her best friend.
She takes a deep breath and holds onto his hand like his fingers are the only things keeping her afloat in the sea of her doubt.
She nods.
“We go in three…two…ONE!”
They leap up off the edge of the cliffs, hand in hand, toward the sun.
~*~*~
“Hey, Icarus, look at this one! It has purple in it!”
“Nice. That will look good on the wings. If we can find more.”
“Where there is one, there is more. A bird has more than one feather on its body. Or did you not know that?” Kyra smirked at Icarus and placed the feather in the basket she carried.
Icarus smiled at her and rolled his eyes. “Who is the bird specialist around here?”
“That’s what I thought.” Kyra shaded her eyes with her hand and stared upwards at the sun. The giant glowing orb had halted its ascent at the very top of the sky, baking the earth and the people below it. Kyra’s fair skin tingled with the heat.
Her best friend dropped down and laid on his back in the soft, green grass, his long arms stretched out to either side of him. His curly brown hair looked golden from where she was still standing. From his spot on the grass, he looked up at her then patted the ground beside him. She rolled her eyes at him and plopped into the grass, her purple and blue dress fanning out to cover the tips of his outstretched fingers.
Icarus tugged on the hem of her gown until she laid down next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
“What is up with you today?” she asked him as she watched a large fluffy cloud skitter across the pale blue, almost white, sky.
“What do you mean?”
“Just…this.” She held up their hands, which had been joined without her notice.
Icarus rolled over onto his side and looked at her with eyes so green they resembled the cut emeralds in her mother’s diadem. “Ya know, we have been ‘betrothed’ since we were little kids, right?”
“How could I forget?” Kyra had to physically yank her gaze from Icarus’. Even though they had been best friends from practically the moment of their birth, he still had no idea that she had been imagining their combined future for the past nine years. “My mother has talked of nothing but our inevitable marriage since I became of age to marry. Six years ago.” She removed her suddenly sweaty hand from his, not wanting to make things awkward with her wet hands. Kyra’s mother had constantly been pushing for Icarus and Kyra to get married. Neither one of them had been ready for that kind of step. They had an easy friendship; his outgoing, people-friendly personality created a perfect balance for her shy-but-caring type. She had dark features that complemented his light ones; her dark brown hair and hazel eyes created a gorgeous contrast between his green eyes and cinnamon colored hair.
For an odd moment, as she gazed up at the clear sky, she saw Icarus’ hand hover over her cheek. She was certain that he would touch her but he moved away and flopped back into the grass beside her.
“We are going to get married someday.” He mumbled as he watched birds wheeling high above them.
“What was that?” Kyra had heard him perfectly. She wanted him to say it again.
“We need to get back. We have work to do.” He moved to his feet like liquid light and Kyra admired his grace, a grace that she had never, and would never possess. Icarus held his hand out to her and she took it, loving the way her soft palms rasped over his callused ones. They peered over the side of the cliffs where they had dived so many years ago before heading back down the path towards the city.
~*~*~
They jump straight up and Icarus stretches out the fingertips of his free hand, straining towards the rays of gilded sunlight that seem to be just outside of his reach.
Kyra grips his hand and feels the air rush past her, whipping her hair back from her face. The glittering blue water gleams up at her, inviting her in with its cool, calm waters; a shelter from the oppressive heat of the day.
Icarus laughs wildly for a moment.
The water envelopes the flying pair in an instant, swallowing them like some great beast welcomes its prey into its hungry maw.
~*~*~
“Open the door! It has been days! Open the door now or… I will never come back!” Kyra slammed her fist into the door, pleading with her best friend. He had been working on a so-called ‘new design’ that he didn’t want to show her just yet for the past week.
The monolithic wooden door creaked open and Icarus’ tired eyes peered back at her. “Oh, such worthless threats.” He grinned at her, his grin showing that he knew that she would never leave him, and motioned her into the cool room, bowing as she passed him. “Your Majesty, pardon my humble abode.”
Empty plates were stacked everywhere and crumpled balls of paper were tossed about haphazardly. Kyra headed straight for the tidy table at the center of the room, and scrutinized the paper spread out in front of her. Her breath caught in her throat. He had spent so much time, time away from her, sketching two different, simple pairs of wings.
The wings were ordinary, sparrow-like. Words were written around them in Icarus’ messy scrawl, some hardly legible. “THIS is what you have spent all of your time on?!” Kyra gestured to the paper in front of her, outraged at the obscene amount of time spent on ridiculous drawings.
“No, Kyra. I have been building, too.” He took her by the wrist and led her to a dark corner.
Stretched on a low work table were the sets of wings shown on the paper. Glossy black and purple feathers were held to sturdy wooden frames by globs of creamy wax, one frame larger than the other. Kyra immediately reached out to touch the feathers, feeling the silky strands beneath her palms. “You did it.” She breathed, hardly daring herself to hope.
~*~*~
Kyra’s head breaks the surface of the water first. She coughs out lungfuls of bitter, salty sea water. Her gaze swivels back and forth as she looks for Icarus. When she can’t find him, she begins to scream, a long, almost inhuman note that seems to soar to the top of the cliffs and carries back to her on the breeze, finding no other ear to rest in.
She floats there, never willing to leave her best friend, dreading the swim back to the beach that now looks desolate instead of serene. Something touches her ankle, a brief touch, light as a feather or a soft kiss. Her instincts tell her to paddle with all the force she possesses towards the shore and she attempts just that.
Before she can get more than a few feet, a mysterious hand latches fully onto her ankle. Icarus.
Her hands search for him and yank him up by the front of his shirt.
He coughs out tepid water and gives her a glittering smile before paddling for the rocky beach.
"Call me crazy, but that was pretty amazing." He calls over his shoulder.
~*~*~
“I am very skeptical about this. I just thought I should tell you that.” Kyra stood with her hands on her hips, her long, bare toes gripped the hard gravel of the cliffs.
“Ya gotta have faith, Sunny.” He winked at flapped his arms at her, the wood and feathered structure strapped to his back fanning her hair from her face. Icarus had affectionately given her the name when they were younger. Her name meant ‘like the sun,’ though her mood was dark.
“If we die, I am going to make Cerberus eat you slowly for the rest of eternity.”
Kyra watched the waves below them crash to the shore. Her pulse beat against her skull in a rhythm that matched the waves. Her fear threatened to swallow her; not fear for herself, fear for Icarus. Her dreams the night before had been terrible and she did not want them to come true before her eyes.
“Come on, Sunny. It is going to work. It HAS to work.” His gaze traveled across the unthreatening blue landscape. Nothing could shake him from his decision.
Kyra took one step back from the edge and fluttered her own pair of wings, feeling like a mythological creature. She watched Icarus testing the direction of the wind, the speed of the breeze, the temperature. Icarus looked back at her.
“You aren’t going to back out on me are you? Make me do this by myself?”
Truthfully, she had thought of tearing her wings from her back and sprinting down to the city, safe from the crazy ravings of the boy she was in love with. Her heart could never take that though, and she found herself pulled towards the boy on the cliffs testing his homemade wings.
She fluttered her own wine-colored wings. “You know I could never leave you alone.” Her fingers reached for his and she nodded her head once, her feet finding purchase on the stony edge.
“We are going to reach for the sun in three…two…ONE!”
They leapt.
He had gotten it right; Kyra’s wings caught a current of air and instead of spiraling into the depths below, they rose higher and higher.
Icarus’ face could have melted ice, he looked so ecstatic. Her face betrayed her own delight at feeling the most awesome sense of weightlessness. She fluttered her arms just slightly and she sailed upwards, coming ever closer to the golden disk of the sun. Icarus spun above her, a great raven in the heavens.
Kyra gazed down at the water and was amazed at the clarity of it. She watched fish swim below her before turning her face towards the sun. Her eyes followed Icarus as he glided through the clouds, soaring ever nearer the sun.
She was content for a long while. Then Kyra noticed something. As Icarus drew nearer the sun, and she flew below him, always the one to keep her feet close to the ground, she noticed drops of molten wax dripping past her. Feathers spun past her on the breeze.
“ICARUS!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, flapping her artificial wings as hard as she possibly could to get to him. As she watched and desperately tried to reach him, his wings disintegrated, the sun melting the wax and singeing the wood frame. Feathers rained down on her in slow motion, like rain freezing before it hits the ground.
Nothing held Icarus in the air now. She watched helplessly as his body hung in the air like a string-less marionette, an imaginary puppeteer pulling invisible strings. A force that she couldn’t see grabbed his body and pulled him down, fast, past her, towards the waiting maw of the dark ocean. Kyra pulled her arms into her sides, collapsing her wings to make her own plummet faster.
He didn’t scream as he fell. He hit the water like a boulder crashing down a mountainside, his limbs splaying out in a way that made panic well inside her chest, make her breath feel sucked from her body, her lungs constrict in on themselves. She braced herself for impact with the opaque water, straining to keep the place where Icarus had crashed in sight.
The water caught her in its embrace and she fought to free herself from the wings that dragged her down instead of lifted her. Still with her head under the waves, she glimpsed her wings drifting away from her into sea.
All Kyra could see when she broke the surface was a feathered landscape. A trail led straight to Icarus’ limp body, his skin singed and bleeding, his legs at odd angles. Her arm wrapped around his chest and she started to paddle directly for a gnarled tree growing into the sand. His weight made every breath painful, but she wouldn’t let him go, ever.
Her arms cramped and her eyes burned with salt as she continued on. The shore grew incrementally closer until sand slipped under her toes and she was able to grasp her footing. Kyra began to run now, knowing that in his injured state, water had probably forced itself between Icarus’ parched lips and into his chest. Carefully she laid him on the beach and opened his cracked lips, breathing into his mouth until her own lungs ached. She hammered at his chest with her hands until water streamed down his cheeks and into the sand. His eyes reeled in their sockets, seeking something.
Kyra knelt by his head, swallowing all of her fears so as to keep her thoughts clean.
“Sunny,” Icarus murmured.
“I’m right here, right here.”
His clenched fist found her hands and dropped a crushed black feather onto her palm.
“You idiot,” she gasped out as tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.
“You still love me right?” Icarus’ charred skin split around a slight smile, his eyes gleaming up at her.
Robbed of the ability to speak, Kyra could only nod her head, crying still.
“Good. I can’t live without sunshine.” He took a deep shuddering breath and coughed up more brackish water. “Help me up?”
“No, no! Stay here! I’m not leaving. Ever. I jumped off that cliff with you when we were eight and I would do it every single day for as long as I lived only if you were by my side and holding my hand.” Kyra smoothed a lock of his wet hair from his forehead.
“Stay here.” He whispered, his strength nearly gone.
“Are you ready for this?” Icarus asks his best friend, gripping her hand tightly in his and curling his toes on the rim of the cliff.
“As ready as Persephone is to go stay in hell for half a year. Are you?”
“What do you think?”
Kyra turns her gaze up to the sun and then glances back at her best friend.
She takes a deep breath and holds onto his hand like his fingers are the only things keeping her afloat in the sea of her doubt.
She nods.
“We go in three…two…ONE!”
They leap up off the edge of the cliffs, hand in hand, toward the sun.
~*~*~
“Hey, Icarus, look at this one! It has purple in it!”
“Nice. That will look good on the wings. If we can find more.”
“Where there is one, there is more. A bird has more than one feather on its body. Or did you not know that?” Kyra smirked at Icarus and placed the feather in the basket she carried.
Icarus smiled at her and rolled his eyes. “Who is the bird specialist around here?”
“That’s what I thought.” Kyra shaded her eyes with her hand and stared upwards at the sun. The giant glowing orb had halted its ascent at the very top of the sky, baking the earth and the people below it. Kyra’s fair skin tingled with the heat.
Her best friend dropped down and laid on his back in the soft, green grass, his long arms stretched out to either side of him. His curly brown hair looked golden from where she was still standing. From his spot on the grass, he looked up at her then patted the ground beside him. She rolled her eyes at him and plopped into the grass, her purple and blue dress fanning out to cover the tips of his outstretched fingers.
Icarus tugged on the hem of her gown until she laid down next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
“What is up with you today?” she asked him as she watched a large fluffy cloud skitter across the pale blue, almost white, sky.
“What do you mean?”
“Just…this.” She held up their hands, which had been joined without her notice.
Icarus rolled over onto his side and looked at her with eyes so green they resembled the cut emeralds in her mother’s diadem. “Ya know, we have been ‘betrothed’ since we were little kids, right?”
“How could I forget?” Kyra had to physically yank her gaze from Icarus’. Even though they had been best friends from practically the moment of their birth, he still had no idea that she had been imagining their combined future for the past nine years. “My mother has talked of nothing but our inevitable marriage since I became of age to marry. Six years ago.” She removed her suddenly sweaty hand from his, not wanting to make things awkward with her wet hands. Kyra’s mother had constantly been pushing for Icarus and Kyra to get married. Neither one of them had been ready for that kind of step. They had an easy friendship; his outgoing, people-friendly personality created a perfect balance for her shy-but-caring type. She had dark features that complemented his light ones; her dark brown hair and hazel eyes created a gorgeous contrast between his green eyes and cinnamon colored hair.
For an odd moment, as she gazed up at the clear sky, she saw Icarus’ hand hover over her cheek. She was certain that he would touch her but he moved away and flopped back into the grass beside her.
“We are going to get married someday.” He mumbled as he watched birds wheeling high above them.
“What was that?” Kyra had heard him perfectly. She wanted him to say it again.
“We need to get back. We have work to do.” He moved to his feet like liquid light and Kyra admired his grace, a grace that she had never, and would never possess. Icarus held his hand out to her and she took it, loving the way her soft palms rasped over his callused ones. They peered over the side of the cliffs where they had dived so many years ago before heading back down the path towards the city.
~*~*~
They jump straight up and Icarus stretches out the fingertips of his free hand, straining towards the rays of gilded sunlight that seem to be just outside of his reach.
Kyra grips his hand and feels the air rush past her, whipping her hair back from her face. The glittering blue water gleams up at her, inviting her in with its cool, calm waters; a shelter from the oppressive heat of the day.
Icarus laughs wildly for a moment.
The water envelopes the flying pair in an instant, swallowing them like some great beast welcomes its prey into its hungry maw.
~*~*~
“Open the door! It has been days! Open the door now or… I will never come back!” Kyra slammed her fist into the door, pleading with her best friend. He had been working on a so-called ‘new design’ that he didn’t want to show her just yet for the past week.
The monolithic wooden door creaked open and Icarus’ tired eyes peered back at her. “Oh, such worthless threats.” He grinned at her, his grin showing that he knew that she would never leave him, and motioned her into the cool room, bowing as she passed him. “Your Majesty, pardon my humble abode.”
Empty plates were stacked everywhere and crumpled balls of paper were tossed about haphazardly. Kyra headed straight for the tidy table at the center of the room, and scrutinized the paper spread out in front of her. Her breath caught in her throat. He had spent so much time, time away from her, sketching two different, simple pairs of wings.
The wings were ordinary, sparrow-like. Words were written around them in Icarus’ messy scrawl, some hardly legible. “THIS is what you have spent all of your time on?!” Kyra gestured to the paper in front of her, outraged at the obscene amount of time spent on ridiculous drawings.
“No, Kyra. I have been building, too.” He took her by the wrist and led her to a dark corner.
Stretched on a low work table were the sets of wings shown on the paper. Glossy black and purple feathers were held to sturdy wooden frames by globs of creamy wax, one frame larger than the other. Kyra immediately reached out to touch the feathers, feeling the silky strands beneath her palms. “You did it.” She breathed, hardly daring herself to hope.
~*~*~
Kyra’s head breaks the surface of the water first. She coughs out lungfuls of bitter, salty sea water. Her gaze swivels back and forth as she looks for Icarus. When she can’t find him, she begins to scream, a long, almost inhuman note that seems to soar to the top of the cliffs and carries back to her on the breeze, finding no other ear to rest in.
She floats there, never willing to leave her best friend, dreading the swim back to the beach that now looks desolate instead of serene. Something touches her ankle, a brief touch, light as a feather or a soft kiss. Her instincts tell her to paddle with all the force she possesses towards the shore and she attempts just that.
Before she can get more than a few feet, a mysterious hand latches fully onto her ankle. Icarus.
Her hands search for him and yank him up by the front of his shirt.
He coughs out tepid water and gives her a glittering smile before paddling for the rocky beach.
"Call me crazy, but that was pretty amazing." He calls over his shoulder.
~*~*~
“I am very skeptical about this. I just thought I should tell you that.” Kyra stood with her hands on her hips, her long, bare toes gripped the hard gravel of the cliffs.
“Ya gotta have faith, Sunny.” He winked at flapped his arms at her, the wood and feathered structure strapped to his back fanning her hair from her face. Icarus had affectionately given her the name when they were younger. Her name meant ‘like the sun,’ though her mood was dark.
“If we die, I am going to make Cerberus eat you slowly for the rest of eternity.”
Kyra watched the waves below them crash to the shore. Her pulse beat against her skull in a rhythm that matched the waves. Her fear threatened to swallow her; not fear for herself, fear for Icarus. Her dreams the night before had been terrible and she did not want them to come true before her eyes.
“Come on, Sunny. It is going to work. It HAS to work.” His gaze traveled across the unthreatening blue landscape. Nothing could shake him from his decision.
Kyra took one step back from the edge and fluttered her own pair of wings, feeling like a mythological creature. She watched Icarus testing the direction of the wind, the speed of the breeze, the temperature. Icarus looked back at her.
“You aren’t going to back out on me are you? Make me do this by myself?”
Truthfully, she had thought of tearing her wings from her back and sprinting down to the city, safe from the crazy ravings of the boy she was in love with. Her heart could never take that though, and she found herself pulled towards the boy on the cliffs testing his homemade wings.
She fluttered her own wine-colored wings. “You know I could never leave you alone.” Her fingers reached for his and she nodded her head once, her feet finding purchase on the stony edge.
“We are going to reach for the sun in three…two…ONE!”
They leapt.
He had gotten it right; Kyra’s wings caught a current of air and instead of spiraling into the depths below, they rose higher and higher.
Icarus’ face could have melted ice, he looked so ecstatic. Her face betrayed her own delight at feeling the most awesome sense of weightlessness. She fluttered her arms just slightly and she sailed upwards, coming ever closer to the golden disk of the sun. Icarus spun above her, a great raven in the heavens.
Kyra gazed down at the water and was amazed at the clarity of it. She watched fish swim below her before turning her face towards the sun. Her eyes followed Icarus as he glided through the clouds, soaring ever nearer the sun.
She was content for a long while. Then Kyra noticed something. As Icarus drew nearer the sun, and she flew below him, always the one to keep her feet close to the ground, she noticed drops of molten wax dripping past her. Feathers spun past her on the breeze.
“ICARUS!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, flapping her artificial wings as hard as she possibly could to get to him. As she watched and desperately tried to reach him, his wings disintegrated, the sun melting the wax and singeing the wood frame. Feathers rained down on her in slow motion, like rain freezing before it hits the ground.
Nothing held Icarus in the air now. She watched helplessly as his body hung in the air like a string-less marionette, an imaginary puppeteer pulling invisible strings. A force that she couldn’t see grabbed his body and pulled him down, fast, past her, towards the waiting maw of the dark ocean. Kyra pulled her arms into her sides, collapsing her wings to make her own plummet faster.
He didn’t scream as he fell. He hit the water like a boulder crashing down a mountainside, his limbs splaying out in a way that made panic well inside her chest, make her breath feel sucked from her body, her lungs constrict in on themselves. She braced herself for impact with the opaque water, straining to keep the place where Icarus had crashed in sight.
The water caught her in its embrace and she fought to free herself from the wings that dragged her down instead of lifted her. Still with her head under the waves, she glimpsed her wings drifting away from her into sea.
All Kyra could see when she broke the surface was a feathered landscape. A trail led straight to Icarus’ limp body, his skin singed and bleeding, his legs at odd angles. Her arm wrapped around his chest and she started to paddle directly for a gnarled tree growing into the sand. His weight made every breath painful, but she wouldn’t let him go, ever.
Her arms cramped and her eyes burned with salt as she continued on. The shore grew incrementally closer until sand slipped under her toes and she was able to grasp her footing. Kyra began to run now, knowing that in his injured state, water had probably forced itself between Icarus’ parched lips and into his chest. Carefully she laid him on the beach and opened his cracked lips, breathing into his mouth until her own lungs ached. She hammered at his chest with her hands until water streamed down his cheeks and into the sand. His eyes reeled in their sockets, seeking something.
Kyra knelt by his head, swallowing all of her fears so as to keep her thoughts clean.
“Sunny,” Icarus murmured.
“I’m right here, right here.”
His clenched fist found her hands and dropped a crushed black feather onto her palm.
“You idiot,” she gasped out as tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.
“You still love me right?” Icarus’ charred skin split around a slight smile, his eyes gleaming up at her.
Robbed of the ability to speak, Kyra could only nod her head, crying still.
“Good. I can’t live without sunshine.” He took a deep shuddering breath and coughed up more brackish water. “Help me up?”
“No, no! Stay here! I’m not leaving. Ever. I jumped off that cliff with you when we were eight and I would do it every single day for as long as I lived only if you were by my side and holding my hand.” Kyra smoothed a lock of his wet hair from his forehead.
“Stay here.” He whispered, his strength nearly gone.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
My awesomely awesome day...
Wow. It is so weird to think that I had a really good day. Nothing amazing happened. It was just good. I went to class and got free cinnamon rolls. Then cleaned my room for checkout and spent some time with my roomie and the girls on the hall. Then my last class got out early. My dad picked me up for the break and I am at home. On our way back, we stopped at Walmart in Plymouth. And who should I see there? Think about it. Bet ya can't guess. Go on. Take a wild one. Is the suspense killing you? Ok, I saw Josiah Schaefer there! In Plymouth! At Walmart! I was just walking down the aisle and saw him and his brother out of the corner of my eye and did this bizarre, crazy-looking double take and I was like "Hey Josiah!" and he was like "Hey Megan!" and it was just crazy! He was on his way home to Wheatfield. (Yeah, I don't know where that is either.) But it was just so crazy to see him there! He was the last person I expected to see at Walmart! Anyways, on the way home I heard my favorite Christmas song (Last Christmas by Wham!) I sang it very loudly and very offkey with my dad. :) After we got home, we picked my brother up from school then went to see my aunt. She let us borrow my uncle's truck to go get a Christmas tree! (My dad works this weekend and my bro and I are at my mom's till Sunday and then I have to go back to school.) My dad and I decorated the tree and watched Charlie Brown Christmas. Now I am just happy. And content. :)
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Icarus and Kyra
I have always had a fascination with Greek mythology. The love and lust and incredibility of the world that the Greeks believed in is just amazing. So many characters and awesome things! I love it! I wrote a paper on the Trojan War in high school. I love all things Greek!
Icarus: Son of Daedalus who dared to fly too near the sun on wings of feathers and wax. Daedalus had been imprisoned by King Minos of Crete within the walls of his own invention, the Labyrinth. But the great craftsman's genius would not suffer captivity. He made two pairs of wings by adhering feathers to a wooden frame with wax. Giving one pair to his son, he cautioned him that flying too near the sun would cause the wax to melt. But Icarus became ecstatic with the ability to fly and forgot his father's warning. The feathers came loose and Icarus plunged to his death in the sea.
Kyra: Greek girl of my own imagination.
Icarus: Son of Daedalus who dared to fly too near the sun on wings of feathers and wax. Daedalus had been imprisoned by King Minos of Crete within the walls of his own invention, the Labyrinth. But the great craftsman's genius would not suffer captivity. He made two pairs of wings by adhering feathers to a wooden frame with wax. Giving one pair to his son, he cautioned him that flying too near the sun would cause the wax to melt. But Icarus became ecstatic with the ability to fly and forgot his father's warning. The feathers came loose and Icarus plunged to his death in the sea.
Kyra: Greek girl of my own imagination.
Stomping and Rain...
Yesterday was just not my day.
Firstly, Mondays are always evil. I woke up and started straightening my hair while I was still half asleep. I pinched my neck with my flat iron. Yes, I have a bruise on my neck. Then classes where I daydreamed the whole period. Definitely NOT bad. Just wait. It does get worse. I came back to my room to finish a paper and what do ya know? My battery is dead and when I go to charge it, I find that the inside of my computer where you plug the cord, is completely gone. So, my dad came and took me to Best Buy. I won'd have my laptop for 2 to 4 weeks. I am going to die! It has barely been 24 hours and I miss my laptop! :( I was utterly freaking out. If they do a diagnostics test on my laptop and something is wrong with my hardrive, I am going to lose all of my pics, documents, music. My life is on that computer! Ugh. Then I realized that I had a night class. Three hours of pure boredom. On the way there, my roommate told me to stomp out my anger. I did. I stomped across campus and people probably thought I was insane. Who cares? It made me feel better. During class, it began to rain and thunder. We ran back to our dorms, a mere 100 feet away from the class and were completely soaked by the time we got there. Once upstairs, we decided to go puddle jumping with our suitemate. We walked all over campus trying to find the deepest puddles to splash around in. After about 5 whole minutes all three of us were soaked through. Then we ran into another group of people who had the same crazy idea we did. Two of the guys in the group were guys that Ashley and I knew, Mike and Caleb. The guys looked at each other and then looked at me and Ashley and looked back at the HUGE puddle (I really mean lake) that they had just climbed out of. Mike picked me up and Caleb picked up Ashley and they ran with us across the parking lot and dropped us in this puddle. It was FREEZING! But it was oh so much fun! We stayed outside for about 45 minutes and then we saw lightning and thought it best to head back inside. I literally had to peel my clothes off, they were so wet. It was utterly worth it though and I recommend puddle jumping to everyone! The next time it rains, go get wet! It was a great way to end a terrible day.
Firstly, Mondays are always evil. I woke up and started straightening my hair while I was still half asleep. I pinched my neck with my flat iron. Yes, I have a bruise on my neck. Then classes where I daydreamed the whole period. Definitely NOT bad. Just wait. It does get worse. I came back to my room to finish a paper and what do ya know? My battery is dead and when I go to charge it, I find that the inside of my computer where you plug the cord, is completely gone. So, my dad came and took me to Best Buy. I won'd have my laptop for 2 to 4 weeks. I am going to die! It has barely been 24 hours and I miss my laptop! :( I was utterly freaking out. If they do a diagnostics test on my laptop and something is wrong with my hardrive, I am going to lose all of my pics, documents, music. My life is on that computer! Ugh. Then I realized that I had a night class. Three hours of pure boredom. On the way there, my roommate told me to stomp out my anger. I did. I stomped across campus and people probably thought I was insane. Who cares? It made me feel better. During class, it began to rain and thunder. We ran back to our dorms, a mere 100 feet away from the class and were completely soaked by the time we got there. Once upstairs, we decided to go puddle jumping with our suitemate. We walked all over campus trying to find the deepest puddles to splash around in. After about 5 whole minutes all three of us were soaked through. Then we ran into another group of people who had the same crazy idea we did. Two of the guys in the group were guys that Ashley and I knew, Mike and Caleb. The guys looked at each other and then looked at me and Ashley and looked back at the HUGE puddle (I really mean lake) that they had just climbed out of. Mike picked me up and Caleb picked up Ashley and they ran with us across the parking lot and dropped us in this puddle. It was FREEZING! But it was oh so much fun! We stayed outside for about 45 minutes and then we saw lightning and thought it best to head back inside. I literally had to peel my clothes off, they were so wet. It was utterly worth it though and I recommend puddle jumping to everyone! The next time it rains, go get wet! It was a great way to end a terrible day.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Well. That's..odd.
Today has been an extremely odd day. I am not sure I want to discuss details. Just know that it was extremely odd and random and crazy. Hopefully tomorrow will be less crazy. Oh wait. I am going to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part uno! So scratch normal on that. Lol. I am very incredibly excited. Today was an odd day. Just saying.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Intentions...
Intentions, intentions.
This morning I rolled over at the sound of my alarm clock with the intention of getting up and going to breakfast. I didn't go to breakfast. An extra 15 minutes of sleep is much needed for this college student. After I finally rolled out of bed, I got dressed with no intentions at all other than comfort. I pulled on my skinny jeans and my comfy grey sweater and put my furry Uggs on my feet and went to class. I wasn't dressing with the intention of impressing anybody. I dressed for me. I can't remember the last time I wore something just for myself other than my pajamas. For some strange reason, my brain is wired so that I think that if I don't wear the 'right' clothes, I am going to be looked down on, be made inferior by the stares of the people around me. Is this a completely irrational thought? Well, yes! In an ideal world, people, especially teenage girls, wouldn't care what others thought of them, of the way they laughed or talked, the way they dressed. It is too bad that our society basically frowns on individualism. We see ads and commercials for how to look like these supermodels or be as cool as these people. The media blasts images of the way we are 'supposed' to look. But who sets these standards? Why should we limit ourselves to these standards? I am most definitely NOT a size 2 and yet I still like to buy designer jeans. (They are comfy and make my booty look good. :D ) Still, the intent of the designer is to showcase their ideal picture of 'pretty.'
Wow. I just went on a rant. My purpose for writing this is to show that you, my lovely reader(s?), should have the intent of doing things for yourself. Its alright to be selfish sometimes. Go intentionally be selfish!!!!
This morning I rolled over at the sound of my alarm clock with the intention of getting up and going to breakfast. I didn't go to breakfast. An extra 15 minutes of sleep is much needed for this college student. After I finally rolled out of bed, I got dressed with no intentions at all other than comfort. I pulled on my skinny jeans and my comfy grey sweater and put my furry Uggs on my feet and went to class. I wasn't dressing with the intention of impressing anybody. I dressed for me. I can't remember the last time I wore something just for myself other than my pajamas. For some strange reason, my brain is wired so that I think that if I don't wear the 'right' clothes, I am going to be looked down on, be made inferior by the stares of the people around me. Is this a completely irrational thought? Well, yes! In an ideal world, people, especially teenage girls, wouldn't care what others thought of them, of the way they laughed or talked, the way they dressed. It is too bad that our society basically frowns on individualism. We see ads and commercials for how to look like these supermodels or be as cool as these people. The media blasts images of the way we are 'supposed' to look. But who sets these standards? Why should we limit ourselves to these standards? I am most definitely NOT a size 2 and yet I still like to buy designer jeans. (They are comfy and make my booty look good. :D ) Still, the intent of the designer is to showcase their ideal picture of 'pretty.'
Wow. I just went on a rant. My purpose for writing this is to show that you, my lovely reader(s?), should have the intent of doing things for yourself. Its alright to be selfish sometimes. Go intentionally be selfish!!!!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Mortality and Emotions...
"Our human desire can go wrong in two ways: when we stop desiring anything outside ourselves and fall for the pathetic illusion that we are sufficient in ourselves, or when we desire such things as fame, riches, beauty, wisdom, and human love that are as finite as we are and thus unworthy of our absolute devotion." -- Os Guinness
Pouring our whole beings into finding something that we 'think' will make us happy never works out. We strive for ideals that we don't fully comprehend. We seek the things we think are what we need, but really are not critical to our lives. That doesn't mean that we can't find happiness for our time spent on this dirty, decaying planet. Our Creator gave us such things as love and wisdom and hope so that we could find them waiting for us at the most opportune (or inopportune) moments in our lives when we needed them most. But those things do die. Love dies, and certainly hope does too. They fit into the moment when we most require them to be there. We lean on emotions like love and hope to break up the monotony of this life. But they end, just like us. They crash and shatter to the floor like a mirror you accidentally knock off the wall and reflect back to you all of the thoughts you had stored up in those feelings. Even our emotions are mortal, just like our soft, fleshy selves. Hope is a bright and bubbly girl with blonde hair and freckles, quick to laugh and easy to please. Love is dark and sultry and easy disguised: to some, he may appear as a man with strong arms and an easy smile; to others, a woman with long sooty hair, wrapping herself in a black scarf. People can personify emotions any way they want to. Regardless of how the emotion is viewed, it is still finite, mortal, transient, frail, earthly.
Pouring our whole beings into finding something that we 'think' will make us happy never works out. We strive for ideals that we don't fully comprehend. We seek the things we think are what we need, but really are not critical to our lives. That doesn't mean that we can't find happiness for our time spent on this dirty, decaying planet. Our Creator gave us such things as love and wisdom and hope so that we could find them waiting for us at the most opportune (or inopportune) moments in our lives when we needed them most. But those things do die. Love dies, and certainly hope does too. They fit into the moment when we most require them to be there. We lean on emotions like love and hope to break up the monotony of this life. But they end, just like us. They crash and shatter to the floor like a mirror you accidentally knock off the wall and reflect back to you all of the thoughts you had stored up in those feelings. Even our emotions are mortal, just like our soft, fleshy selves. Hope is a bright and bubbly girl with blonde hair and freckles, quick to laugh and easy to please. Love is dark and sultry and easy disguised: to some, he may appear as a man with strong arms and an easy smile; to others, a woman with long sooty hair, wrapping herself in a black scarf. People can personify emotions any way they want to. Regardless of how the emotion is viewed, it is still finite, mortal, transient, frail, earthly.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Give a smile. They are cheap and awesome at the same time.
It is incredibly funny how such a simple, small, smile can make someone's frostbitten, murky, decayed heart start pulsing with such an amazing intensity. Imagine the dark haired girl in the black hoodie sitting at her desk, her face rapt with attention, as she listens to the boy prattle on about watching the Detroit Lions lose every year on Thanksgiving Day. It isn't so much WHAT he is saying, just that he is talking at all. Talking to HER, his eyes on HER, waiting for HER reaction, a smile tugging up the corners of his lips, and at the same time, pulling her chilly core from it's icy winter, into the spring of his smile. (Does all this sound cheesy? Why, yes it does. Does it illustrate my point? Of course.) The thawing has started and only time will tell if it starts to freeze again. It has been a very long time since her heart was actually palpitating instead of just shivering with the cold. Just an uncomplex moving of facial muscles can thaw a frozen heart. Incredible.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Change Part Dos
I admit it. My changes were not for me, although I do like the end result. I changed the color and style of my hair, all the while praying that it will get me noticed. No one ever, EVER, takes a second look at me. Just once, I would love for a guy to do a double-take when I walked by. No joke. It would be even better if it was a certain someone... But that isn't going to happen. I can feel it. So my changes, while looking very good, are worth nothing. Because I screwed it up last week when I gave him my number and then when he didn't do anything, said 'the point of having somebody's number is to use it. ;) *hint hint*" I screwed it up. :( Sad day... But yeah. Those are my changes. I do like my hair, though.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Change...
Change. Such a simple, uncomplex, monosyllabic moniker for turning a normal thing into something abnormal, for making your life just a tiny pinch spicier. Change is unprecedented sometimes. Or it can be completely meditated. The reasons behind a change are vast and differ from one item to the next. I changed the color of my hair this morning. My reason for the change wasn't simply just because my roots were showing. I had a crazy preconceived notion that if I made a small change, not a drastic one, maybe your eyes would actually meet mine... But that is a big hope to rest in a bottle of liquid change. Change for others could be choosing to put their right shoe on first instead of the left. Change could be abstaining from drinking Coke for every single meal. Change could be realizing that the media's attempts at forcing fake images of perfection down teenagers' throats and believing them up until NOW. While watching What Not to Wear last night, I witnessed women who thought that they could never attain a positive image of themselves but, with a simple change in clothing, realized that they were perfect all along. Change doesn't have to be that profound. It doesn't have to happen at all. If you feel a need for a small change, order a chocolate ice cream cone instead of a vanilla one. Make your life spicy! (Just don't get spicy ice cream. That sounds pretty nasty.)
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Control...
My body had rejected my mind's overbearing ways.
The mind supports everything else; telling my lungs to pump air to my fragile heart where it gets churned into my blood, surging around my listless body, circulating in my hands and feet.
The body is not meant to control the mind, but that is what mine did, whispering hateful nothings to my blank chalkboard mind.
My body contaminated my mind with tainted images of what my body thought it should look like.
My body told my mind that my thighs were too chunky, that my hips were too wide, that my stomach was too pudgy.
My mind started to believe it from looking around me and seeing fun-house distorted images of 'pretty'.
My body is breaking away from the distortions.
I am not going to be controlled by airbrushed, fake, cosmetically appealing people that are not real and the standards they set that can never be reached.
I am healthy and that is all that matters.
Even if I can't wear a size 0, I look good in my jeans and I wear what I am comfortable in.
Why sacrifice myself for the distortions of the media?
It shouldn't matter what size a girl is in order to have a positive image about herself.
As long as you are healthy, be happy.
(What brought this around was a body image seminar I went to last week. And also complete boredom in psychology.)
The mind supports everything else; telling my lungs to pump air to my fragile heart where it gets churned into my blood, surging around my listless body, circulating in my hands and feet.
The body is not meant to control the mind, but that is what mine did, whispering hateful nothings to my blank chalkboard mind.
My body contaminated my mind with tainted images of what my body thought it should look like.
My body told my mind that my thighs were too chunky, that my hips were too wide, that my stomach was too pudgy.
My mind started to believe it from looking around me and seeing fun-house distorted images of 'pretty'.
My body is breaking away from the distortions.
I am not going to be controlled by airbrushed, fake, cosmetically appealing people that are not real and the standards they set that can never be reached.
I am healthy and that is all that matters.
Even if I can't wear a size 0, I look good in my jeans and I wear what I am comfortable in.
Why sacrifice myself for the distortions of the media?
It shouldn't matter what size a girl is in order to have a positive image about herself.
As long as you are healthy, be happy.
(What brought this around was a body image seminar I went to last week. And also complete boredom in psychology.)
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Well, that's just great...
how can life be so unfair sometimes?
i just dont understand.
a person can try to make all the right decisions and follow the right steps and still end up with less than they deserve.
it is not fair that the people that make the wrong decisions still seem to come out on top, being all happy and everything and you sit there and wonder what went wrong for you.
you cant stop your mind from contemplating whether there is actually something wrong with you or not.
and you never get an answer, do you?
i know i never have.
i always wonder what is wrong with me.
everybody will tell me im wrong.
don't do that.
it is irritating.
i like to be told the truth, even if it really does hurt, even though that is a little masochistic.
i say all of this because sooooo many people that i know are changing their relationships from single to with somebody.
i want to know why i cant, why i have to sit here and feel bad for myself.
could somebody just explain to me how you can have a relationship with someone without ever actually meeting them?
that would be great to know.
i just dont understand.
a person can try to make all the right decisions and follow the right steps and still end up with less than they deserve.
it is not fair that the people that make the wrong decisions still seem to come out on top, being all happy and everything and you sit there and wonder what went wrong for you.
you cant stop your mind from contemplating whether there is actually something wrong with you or not.
and you never get an answer, do you?
i know i never have.
i always wonder what is wrong with me.
everybody will tell me im wrong.
don't do that.
it is irritating.
i like to be told the truth, even if it really does hurt, even though that is a little masochistic.
i say all of this because sooooo many people that i know are changing their relationships from single to with somebody.
i want to know why i cant, why i have to sit here and feel bad for myself.
could somebody just explain to me how you can have a relationship with someone without ever actually meeting them?
that would be great to know.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
I've Never Heard A Silence Quite This Loud...
How is it that some people know exactly what to say no matter what you are feeling?
Taylor Swift is one of those people.
For real, the new cd Speak Now is absolutely amazing.
I love the song Enchanted.
It describes me right at this moment.
Then again there are some people you really really wish would just say something.
Any single word from that person could make your night turn to day in the space of a heartbeat.
You pray fervently for that single word, maybe a short hello or in answer to simple question about a homework assignment.
They are just words but how much they mean is incredible.
Did anyone ever know how loud silence can be?
Let's do an exercise:
go sit in your room with no music or tv.
Turn your cell phone off and just sit there.
It may take a while but after a little bit the silence becomes too much, doesn't it?
I can't take too much silence.
It messes with my mind and I need to have noise.
I have come to realize that unless I am sleeping, I need some kind of noise.
So, to tie all of this together, there are people that can say the right things that need to be said to fill the silence that everybody encounters.
Finding the people that say the right things is incredibly difficult.
Let people fill the silence.
That's the whole point of being able to speak.
Even though some words are meaningless and some hurt, YOU are the one that has to decide what hurts you or slides past your heart. YOU make the words meaningful. You or the person who says them with the right intentions behind them.
Taylor Swift is one of those people.
For real, the new cd Speak Now is absolutely amazing.
I love the song Enchanted.
It describes me right at this moment.
Then again there are some people you really really wish would just say something.
Any single word from that person could make your night turn to day in the space of a heartbeat.
You pray fervently for that single word, maybe a short hello or in answer to simple question about a homework assignment.
They are just words but how much they mean is incredible.
Did anyone ever know how loud silence can be?
Let's do an exercise:
go sit in your room with no music or tv.
Turn your cell phone off and just sit there.
It may take a while but after a little bit the silence becomes too much, doesn't it?
I can't take too much silence.
It messes with my mind and I need to have noise.
I have come to realize that unless I am sleeping, I need some kind of noise.
So, to tie all of this together, there are people that can say the right things that need to be said to fill the silence that everybody encounters.
Finding the people that say the right things is incredibly difficult.
Let people fill the silence.
That's the whole point of being able to speak.
Even though some words are meaningless and some hurt, YOU are the one that has to decide what hurts you or slides past your heart. YOU make the words meaningful. You or the person who says them with the right intentions behind them.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Enchanted...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lw0fETc9XEE
^lyrics to Enchanted by Taylor Swift.
Its funny how after all the things I have been through and how many times I have raised the tainted white flag, sooner or later, my heart starts beating again.
Somehow I start to feel again.
Somehow I get my hopes up all over again.
Hes a football player from Michigan.
Hes quick to smile and has an easy laugh.
He spaces out in psychology.
He usually drops his pen at least once per class period in effective writing.
He has a scar on his hand from slipping on ice and falling on a cd.
His eyes get lighter when he smiles.
He made my heart start beating again.
Somehow...
I still can't figure it out.
And magically, my least favorite has become the one I look forward to.
Somebody come down here and slap me, tell me to not make such a big deal of things.
*This night is sparkling, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
This night is flawless, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
I was enchanted to meet you
Please don't be in love with someone else
Please don't have somebody waiting on you*
^lyrics to Enchanted by Taylor Swift.
Its funny how after all the things I have been through and how many times I have raised the tainted white flag, sooner or later, my heart starts beating again.
Somehow I start to feel again.
Somehow I get my hopes up all over again.
Hes a football player from Michigan.
Hes quick to smile and has an easy laugh.
He spaces out in psychology.
He usually drops his pen at least once per class period in effective writing.
He has a scar on his hand from slipping on ice and falling on a cd.
His eyes get lighter when he smiles.
He made my heart start beating again.
Somehow...
I still can't figure it out.
And magically, my least favorite has become the one I look forward to.
Somebody come down here and slap me, tell me to not make such a big deal of things.
*This night is sparkling, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
This night is flawless, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
I was enchanted to meet you
Please don't be in love with someone else
Please don't have somebody waiting on you*
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