Plain as can be, plain as me.

Open up my heart, darling
Before I fall apart, starling
Refreshment in a desert hallucination
Refreshment for my pallid imagination

All that can exist here
Summed up in a single tear
In this desert hallucination
Falls down from the dark cloud's top
Drop after lonely drop
Here in my pallid imagination

Dust sprinkled across the seams
All the old and older dreams
Refresh, refresh my being.

title: surreal appeal
---------------------------------------

Storyteller, weave your tale from thin, sweet air.
Whistling through your teeth,
the wind carries your words
miles and miles lapped up
Farther and father from its place
Past the familiar horizon into the unknown
when you only attempt to reach
the nearest of open hearts.
Hear the tune the old winds sing
of stories told long ago
Scattered through lonely space.
Met with vibrations of excitement,
New hope, new light, new tunes.
Slowly after so long,
those words return, through your lips,
bid adieu to the open air,
And approach a heart from which they sprung
Not originally, but a soft spot was saved for them.
Convicted to sensations
no longer bare to humiliation
Not on the lonely road, but home in another.

title: magic wind
-------------------------------

I made these up today (sorry the last one doesn't rhyme). I'm not really sure why I feel in such a sensational mood today. I read the lines below on owlcityblog.com (which I highly suggest you digest) last night, and was just stunned and stimulated by how they made me feel. Reading it is so much different than hearing it, true, but seeing it with those charged emotions each word brings to the others calls for a lovely, lovely poem. Owl City is not just a musician with a possible imsomniatic disorder (or I guess it isn't a disorder, because it supposedly improves his talent), but a poet, and a human being with a very open heart and open emotions.

"Weighed down by heavy lids and lunar lullabies, I knew you were wide awake because you smile with your eyes."

"This particular sad farewell left a hole in my chest and a bittersweet taste in my mouth, as saying goodbye has a way of doing. It tasted like past romance, a bouquet of indelible memories laced with lost love and confused emotions, the flowery passion and affection of two starry-eyed dreamers, tangled up in the ribbons of a faded fairy tale."

mack.  :)

*go easy on me.

Darling, darling, I am so afraid,
terrified to face my fears.
What will become of us?
Is a "maybe" worth the tears?

Today
They all said no,
they all said run,
they all said be safe.
I didn't stray.

I wrote on my hand
the words "have no fear."
flirting with my own demise,
those words no longer dear.

My courage fell flat

Be bold, be bold, I say,
I must, I must, it's the only way
to find something worth it all
in this hard and scary haul.

(true story.) I'm trying out poetry, but it's a long process I want to hopefully excel in someday. I'm working on it.

This scares me to death, because if it's any true, I'm always in your dreams, but you're never in mine. :/

eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.

From Kay's blog.

I can't hold it in any longer. It feels like it's about to pour forth from my frame, out into the open air. Vulnerable to stares and knives and even heartbreak. I have to try, even if it fails miserably, even if it threatens me that if I do, everything I ever kept to myself will be lost to destiny. I will be walking on a tightrope with no safety nets, only to what seems like the pressure of death or a hopefully happy ending.

Tomorrow- tomorrow, I've decided. Tomorrow will be the day it all unfolds.

What have I got to lose?

"If you had access to a time machine, where and when would be the first place you travel to?"

Well, magical question generator, you seem to have read my mind on choosing today to just dream and reminisce. I'm not sure which one would be first, but I definitely would...

Attend the first Beatles concert in America
Run along the beachside out west, sometime in the latter half of the twentieth century
Crash my own wedding
Gossip at the Salem Witch Trials
Dance with the Iroquois
Party with Marie Antoinette
Relive the sweetest night I ever had (sometime in 5th grade haha)
Meet my grandparents when they were young, and visit New Harmony, Indiana
Attend an original showing of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet
Spy on Thoreau while he was at Walden Pond
Ride through the open west with the cowboys

What would YOU do?

things have taken a turn for the weird.

I think, in the zombie-like manner I was in last night, I stereotyped a majority of the population of teenagers as punks with pink hair and tattoos that fight for fun, curse until the words have no meaning, and throw glitter everywhere. That thought, of course, occurred at a very tired time of one o'clock in the morning.

Last night was my junior prom. It was on Friday the 13th, and nonetheless the night had its (bad) moments, but I quickly noted that worrying about them would get me nowhere, so I went on with my night and had a fantastic time (which was good because I'd never been able to do that before). :)

The only regret I have regarding that night was that although I received so many compliments on my hair and my dress, I never could gather up the courage to ask him to dance. The "Treasure the Night" slogan printed on our prom t-shirts never was so ironic.

Summer is on the horizon, and it winks its comforting sky-blue eyes at me in a haughty manner, just to tease me and just about every other teenager on the planet (not all, but most). The happiness will come, believe in that. :)

I know one could argue that this has to be the worst "prom" photo of mine, but I'm too self-conscious to put too many more.



I'll put this one, though. :)

 song in my head: i wanna hold your hand by the beatles,
mack. (:

change of name, change of game.

watch the sunset drip off her fingers
onto the cold wet dew beneath
her flowing free fancy feet
she can now begin to breathe
finally the night lingers
the time of her content.

watch her through the trees
she sits on the old ground silent
watching the sun fall over the
home she knows.

she knows the sun falls down
only to let the moon rise up
there's always light of
new time, dim or bright.

-------

I'm sick & sniffly today, but today was a good day to end a bittersweet week. My successes have oddly sparked more successes, while my stress from present events has skyrocketed into a new atmosphere. I haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately, but I will soon. Laying in my bed now seems a whole new experience, as my mind races to new thoughts and happiness in the darkness and solitude of my own mind. Sorry if none of this makes sense.

Some happy things on my mind today:
pink limonade with ice
wood smoke, rising from a bonfire
dancing in a circle
hearing the quiet sound of an acoustic guitar through the thick evening air
hugs & holding hands
plaid shirts
the sun setting and hitting you straight in the eyes
not being able to see another house out your front door
driving by, seeing old people sleeping in chairs on their front porches
that one chord my friend played on the piano tonight
the double rainbow that everyone else saw yesterday (except for me)
serenity now, or something new
knowing that other people, no matter how close, will always have mysteries about them

won't stop- one republic.

sneezy,
mack.

Thanks.

I actually am okay. It is alright, even if I totally have to numb myself from all emotions to get over it. I really wish I could thank everyone for how they've helped me through this. Honestly, thank you, even though half of the people I would thank won't read this (because I'm not into friends following my blog, because they put an imaginary pressuring damper on my writing), but the portion of you on here, you are great, great people.

A couple of years ago, I couldn't deal with myself in this situation, and when I did, it was months later before I could feel better about myself. Now, I am rising out of the ashes, a phoenix of a new philosophy. I'm moody and indifferent, but at least my self-esteem is not obliterated- no, I may be deemed more selfish, but it's for my own happiness.

*Sigh.* The show must go on.

I'm finally getting to the good part of The Scarlet Letter, where you can visibly see the feminist struggle that Hawthorne emphasizes. It might seem extremely boring in the beginning with all of the fluff, yet it strikes a chord through its true underlying message. Very empowering. :)

"If she be all tenderness, she will die. If she survive, the tenderness will either be crushed out of her, or—and the outward semblance is the same—crushed so deeply into her heart that it can never show itself more." Nathaniel Hawthorne, how you've read my mind.

Seasons- Chase Coy

:D