Go Outside

 

Yeah I know what's good
Exactly those things night cannot behold

Dear Cinderella,

I am so sorry you had to scrub all of those floors.
I now understand how degrading it is, kneeling on the floor, at the level of the grossest of scum.
But unlike you I don't get a fairy god mother, a pumpkin carriage, invitations to balls, or a prince charming.
I hate everything.

Teetering

"If Sarah jumped off of a cliff, then would you?"

"... do the Kinser docks count?"

Cradled by Gravity

A goal of mine for the summer was to become more brave, and actually take part in all of the awesome stuff my friends do while I stand by watching.
Well, yesterday I jumped off of the Kinser docks.  That's right, a huge jump, into the water.  Funny how my top two greatest fears are 1. the ocean and 2. heights. 
Well, Coree is officially a beast.  The feeling of falling... being bound to absolutely nothing but gravity... it's something not even I, the woman of metaphors, can describe. 
So thank you, summer.  Thank you, Sarah.  Thank you, ocean.  Thank you, gravity.  Though getting out of the water was a completely different story, I was a champion at jumping off of a giant cliff of cement into that depth of blue. 
I can do more than I think.

Swing Life Away

Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

Wanderlust

We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go

Wolves

They're tearing their claws in the ground...

Frozen Dairy Treat

I've decided that ice cream will fix everything... I really want some.

Like Daggers

I can't stand the way you look at me when I enter the room.

I'm not a freak.  I don't have a third eye.  I'm not some sort of disgusting creature... I swear.  I hate feeling like my mere existence is a big, dark cloud over the parade of your life... honestly, if that's how you feel, I'm more than happy to leave.  I don't really think this mental torment of wondering if you actually love me is quite fair... I shouldn't have to worry about losing you, of all people. 

It's hard for me to like myself when I don't even think you do.

Easier Than Breathing

and suddenly, things fall right back into place

Possibility

So tell me when you hear my silence--there's a possibility I wouldn't know.

Maybe You Don't Remember.

It was two years ago, late at night, and we were on another one of our typical driving escapades.  The rain was pouring down, blurring your windshield so that it was more of a window into another, more blurry world than a shield of protection.  I imagined it a window into the future, and suddenly something scary crossed my mind.  I wouldn't have you forever.  Someday, you were going to grow up, and our whimsical adventures of circling Plaza and playing hide-and-go-seek inside of cars and saving creatures from the road would have to end.

"...We only have two years left.  You're going to grow up.... what am I going to do then?"

"Oh, come on.  That's super far away... you should stop thinking like that."

Two years has become two months.  Soon it will become two weeks, and then two days, two hours, two minutes, two seconds...

I never stop thinking like that.

Typhoon Scones

6 c. flour
1 c. sugar
2 Tbsp. baking powder
2 tsp. salt
2 c.  butter, softened (but not too soft)
1 c. sour cream
1 c. milk
1 pkg. (2 cups) mini chocolate chips
Raw sugar for sprinkling

Heat oven to 400.  Combine flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a large bowl.  Cut butter into flour mixture using a pastry blender (or two butter knives) until mixture resembles course crumbs.  Stir in sour cream and milk until all is moistened.  Fold in mini chocolate chips.  Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface.  (I use a 12" x 18" cutting board and it also helps me to shape and measure the dough for cutting.  See picture.)  Shape dough into a large rectangle, about 12" x 18".  It should be about 3/4" thick.  Get it as close to perfectly rectangular as possible, using a rolling pin and your hands to gently poke and shift it until it's even.  Using a pizza cutter (and a ruler if you need one) cut dough into squares, leaving dough in place.  After you have the square grid cut into the dough, cut each square into a triangle, by cutting the grid in a diagonal pattern (just follow the corners of the squares as you cut).  Lightly sprinkle raw sugar over the top of the dough.  Separate triangles and place them (an inch apart) on baking stones (or parchment-lined baking sheets).  Bake for 12 minutes, or until lightly browned on top.  Cool on stone for a few minutes, then transfer to cooling rack.  Best served warm.

Flightless Bird, American Mouth

Songs like this make me want to curl up in a sobbing ball of "D'awwww"

Do Hurry Back!

Despite the distractions I'm surrounding myself with, 

I can feel myself slowly.... slipping... away.

Dear Nemesis,

You made a big mistake last night with those comments.  See, I am a loyal person, and a person good at admiring from a far.  I've been doing this for a while... admiring your blog, your quiet intelligence in class, the witty conversations you and my friend seem to always be having.  I quite honestly looked up to you.  But, being a loyal person, I find betrayal to be a horribly bitter sin for which I do not often give mercy. 
You have betrayed me.
In my slap-happy stupor you witnessed over facebook chat last night, despite my friend's attempts at snatching back the wireless keyboard, I described to you in detail the things I would do if I got my hands on you.  If you've ever seen Llamas With Hats... well, there are subtle similarities.  You have come to this blog to see what stinging words of vengeance I have thrust upon the internet. 
I'll keep this simple.  I am not somebody to be crossed.  I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.
Oh wait... no, that's Taken... same idea.
Ah well.  Really I'm just excited you're reading my blog.  See ya!

TCCOREE-1 Recovery

This chick.

Dear Recently Discovered,

You have only been in my life for a couple of days, and yet already I feel like you're one of those people I just can't live without.  I feel like I've met my other half... practically the male version of myself.  I've never had somebody get disappointed when I made a joke and say "I thought you were a goody goody..." to which I can gratefully reply "Don't worry--I am."  with the relief of knowing I don't have to put on any sort of "cool" mask.  

I can't even express the joy and comfort that floods my being, at how every time I reveal a bit of information about myself, you let out a groan and mutter something about how unbelievably awesome I am.  For some reason it's quite easy to believe coming from you.
Yes, I do like ramen.  Apparently in your book that's proposal worthy.  I also like the narwhal song, I do make Lord of the Rings references, and I know more than any girl should about Star Wars.  I also play Halo on occasion.  In most cases, such things make me... awkward.  A social outcast.  Unladylike.  But really, it's just how I was raised.

And yet, those seem to be the things that make you so elated at my mere existence.

If there's one thing I like, it's somebody who finds me as fantastic as I do.

Your timing is absolutely incredible.  You and I are going to be best friends. 

Maybe I will survive after the summer, after all.  Provided you're coming along with me.

Grasping at Straws

You would think that in the absence of my rock, my life, the one who's contributed the most to who I am, that I'd branch out, try and meet people who won't be going anywhere for a while--people who are able to commit themselves to me at least a bit.

Instead I'm desperately grasping at other people, who are leaving just the same.

Isn't that the definition of insanity?  Doing the same thing, with expectations of a different result?

Dear Missionary

who converted my father,

Thanks for saving all of our souls!  We're all happily sealed now, and quite active in the church.  To thank you for this favor, we've purchased the science fiction novel you later went on to publish.

Love,
Inherited Holiness

Hallelujah

And love is not a victory march,

it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

Off We Go

You offered to come along if I ran away.

And though I would never do something like that,
you'll never know how much it means to know you're willing.

Midnight Confessions

Rage.  Somewhere along the way, a fighting instinct kicks into people when they're weakened.

Rather than whining and wallowing in her self pity, suddenly she wonders how it is just and fair that such things could be happening to her.  Her chest tightens, she wipes those tears streaming down her face away, and she emits a pathetic sort of gasping sound.  

Why?
Why her?
Why now?
She slams her clenched fists angrily against her dresser, squeezing her eyes shut tight, avoiding the harsh gaze of her own reflection.  She knows that she worked hard for what she has... she deserves it, and continues to work hard.  There should be no expiration date on her rewards.

No one is displaying any sort of true understanding.  She knows that she isn't going to find any sort of comfort or sympathy in the arms of another... no, others don't know what she did to make this work.  They don't know the part of her soul she sold permanently.  Every laugh, every song, every dance, every joke, every secret, every bit of advice, every single moment...

They live inside of her forever.

She lets out a cry of frustration, throwing anything in sight, the crashing sounds only fueling her anger.

And now, she's expected to just give it all up because the time has come.  Yes, others have done it before her.  Yes, she probably can too.  But people seem to forget that it sucks... she knows she is going to be alone.  Perhaps there will be other people wanting to befriend her.  But they just don't get it.  

They weren't there all of those years.

Suddenly she pauses for a moment, as if realizing the mess she's made.  Her body becomes limp in an instant, feeling like it has aged a hundred years, so that she can not support herself on her own two feet.  She falls down slowly, bringing her knees up close to her chest, cradling her own pulsing body as she finally begins to sob.

Even still, nobody really knows.

Nobody actually cares.

She's alone.

Take a Walk

All these kinds of places,

makes it feel like it's been ages!

Thanks for the Ride!

And then somewhere along the way, you became home.

Dear Honors,

Oh, the sleep you've deprived me of!  I loathe it with a passion, those endless nights of reading and typing outlines and other such inventions of hell.

And yet, I know I'll miss you.  Getting challenged in a class is something  I treasure... at least when I manage to rise above it.

5 Years Time

Yah, well I feel all pretty happy too
And I'm always pretty happy when I'm just kicking back with you

A New Chapter

Everything feels so new.  It's like I just went on a shopping spree where I picked out an entire new wardrobe, and suddenly my style is just so adorable every single freaking day.  I feel like everything is shifting and evolving and turning into something... different.  And yet, despite all of my terrorizing fears over the past year or so, it's not scary.  It's not sad at the moment.  I feel like I'm reading that very last chapter in a good book, with each page turn a tingle goes up my fingers as I count the remaining sheets of paper that will conclude the tale told within my own mind.  But, I know there's an entirely new sequel sitting on my shelf, just waiting for me to bust it open and pour over the contents, lingering and appreciating each and every little letter of every word of every sentence of every thought of every paragraph of every chapter of every story. 

The adventures that await us all!  It's almost too much to fathom.

Dear God,

I don't need to see you to believe in you.  But honestly... a nice hug every once in a while would be absolutely fantastic.

That would get me through this nightmare called highschool easily.

I could deal with this impossible family.

Waiting for my spouse would be no problem.

Maybe just hold my hand occasionally?

Too much to ask, I know.  But it would rock if I could at least meet someone where hugging them felt like hugging you.

Eternal love,

Faithful yet Fragile

I Will Follow You Into the Dark

If  heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied,
then I'll follow you into the dark.

Dear Blinded Beauty,

Please... just, understand me.  I cannot even express how desperately I want to insert my thoughts into your head so that you know I only want the best for you.
I don't think you realize that we actually have pretty much the same feelings on almost everything.  Although, I've observed that you lack empathy.  You don't see that we're put in practically the exact same situations, only at different times.  It's sort of unfair, to be honest, trying to help you through things I have no clue in just because it's my job to be supportive, and then when I'm in the same one you don't bat an eyelash of concern in my direction.  The bad things I put you through are somehow so much worse than what I deal with from you.  At least I try to agree with you.
But I'm a patient person.  And I honestly don't hold it against you.  We both make sacrifices in this.
Despite some grumblings and contention, I can't help but feel like today was a wonderful day.  I do appreciate that you tell me things, even if I don't always have the best reactions.  Please don't stop.... I would much prefer this than having you be alone in your experiences. I'm learning.
The future's so close I can taste it, kiddo.
I know we'll both go on to do great things.
Stay classy.

Love always,
Carefully Concerned