Handbags
Shoes
Scarfs
and gloves
Your nothing more then an accessory.
You come in every shape and size.
You can even be personalized.
You go along with the objects around you.
You don't stand out but you attempt to make a statement.
You even claim to go through mistreatment.
You hold no value.
You hold no meaning.
That my dear is why I am intervening.
Your not fabulous.
And, your not grand.
From my wardrobe you have been banned.
Attempting to find your nitch.
Trying to match up to this seasons splendors.
But darling even you know your just a blunder.
Thrift store reject.
Just a costume joke.
Something to make fun of and poke.
Stop pretending to be.
Not everything is what it seems.
So stop with your pathetic Schemes.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
A Love story
Criminals, Airports, and love
It started by a chance meeting; two strangers in an airport no special place. No sparks went off, no fireworks in their first meeting. In all honestly they had nothing in common a man and a woman from different parts of the country in their own worlds. She was an insurance agent. He was a hotel manager. Both careers kept them in airports often. But today would change any other flight they would ever take again.
“oh I’m terribly sorry mama.”
The man apologized as he accidently bumped into the women as he walked past her sitting in a chair.
“Is this seat taken?”
He gestured to the empty seat to her left.
“No not at all, go ahead.”
The woman said with a smile. She turned back to her book. Not a book generally read by an insurance agent. The book was titled Obsession written by John E. Douglas, a book about the inside of serial killer minds. What makes them think why they do what they do. The man took notice of the woman’s reading material. Not something the common reader read. He only knew the title because he had picked it up accidently a few years earlier, a little light reading on one of his many flights. He had become hooked on this enchanting, in a dark, disturbing way, genre of reading material.
“Excuse me this may be a strange question and feel free to tell me if I’m invading too much into the life of a stranger. But that book your reading? Are you a criminal profiler?”
At first the women was a little taken a back why in the world was this stranger talking to her?
“Me? Oh this no it’s just an odd fascination of mine. I quite enjoy these types of books.”
She returned back to her book. Figuring this conversation had ended. The man looked about the airport. He didn’t quite feel like reading right then. He could not concentrate with all the noise and the people anyway. He glanced at the woman still reading.
“I’m, Mark by the way.”
She glanced at him and smiled then continued reading. She flew enough that she had learned it was better to just not talk then make small talk with the strangers around her.
“You know I am quite a fan of the criminal profiling genre of books, actually the entire human mind amazes me.”
The woman realized that reading around this man, Mark? Did he say his name was? Would be impossible. But he didn’t seem to be the regular creeper bent on hitting her or the desperate traveler I need of a conversation. So she gave in.
For the next half hour the discussed their fascination with the human mind and how it works. They talked about their jobs. How they were in and out of air ports all the time. Often time in different cities every other week. She had a home in San Francisco she rarely saw. He had a loft in Manhattan he had not been to in months. They talked till they boarded their separate planes for separate destinations.
Two strangers on two different paths. In two different worlds.
Many weeks past and it didn’t take long for her to forget the stranger in the airport. In fact she had forgotten all about him. As he had forgotten her.
It was a rainy Thursday afternoon in the Seattle airport. The woman was in need of a coffee and was thrilled when her caramel macchiato was placed up on the bar. As the order was called she went grab it only for her hand to meet with another.
“oh I’m terribly sorry mama”
The woman looked into the face of the man she had forgotten and remembered.
“you!”
She was pleasantly shocked to meet him again.
“Well, if its not a small world. I do believe we have met once before, Kate is it?”
He was secretly pleased to have run into the beautiful women with the beautiful mind once again.
As they meet again the second coffee was placed on the bar. They grabbed their drinks and sat down to talk as they waited for their flights. They talked about their lives since they had last seen each other. Never going into too much detail. Never saying to much neither ever knowing much about the others true life.
This time when they left they exchanged numbers. They had created a friendship of sorts. Two strangers who met in an airport.
Whenever they found a moment when they would be in the same city or could arrange a lay over in the same town they did. They never left the airport. Coffee every few weeks one day Chicago another Austin.
They never spoke into much detail of their lives. Just enough to keep a conversation and only long enough till one of them had to catch a flight.
They never told each other but in a strange way they had fallen in love. They both knew it was a relationship that would never work they were from different worlds. With only airports in common. But they were lovers of sorts lovers in an airport starbucks.
*not done I need a good closing but I cant think of it right now.
It started by a chance meeting; two strangers in an airport no special place. No sparks went off, no fireworks in their first meeting. In all honestly they had nothing in common a man and a woman from different parts of the country in their own worlds. She was an insurance agent. He was a hotel manager. Both careers kept them in airports often. But today would change any other flight they would ever take again.
“oh I’m terribly sorry mama.”
The man apologized as he accidently bumped into the women as he walked past her sitting in a chair.
“Is this seat taken?”
He gestured to the empty seat to her left.
“No not at all, go ahead.”
The woman said with a smile. She turned back to her book. Not a book generally read by an insurance agent. The book was titled Obsession written by John E. Douglas, a book about the inside of serial killer minds. What makes them think why they do what they do. The man took notice of the woman’s reading material. Not something the common reader read. He only knew the title because he had picked it up accidently a few years earlier, a little light reading on one of his many flights. He had become hooked on this enchanting, in a dark, disturbing way, genre of reading material.
“Excuse me this may be a strange question and feel free to tell me if I’m invading too much into the life of a stranger. But that book your reading? Are you a criminal profiler?”
At first the women was a little taken a back why in the world was this stranger talking to her?
“Me? Oh this no it’s just an odd fascination of mine. I quite enjoy these types of books.”
She returned back to her book. Figuring this conversation had ended. The man looked about the airport. He didn’t quite feel like reading right then. He could not concentrate with all the noise and the people anyway. He glanced at the woman still reading.
“I’m, Mark by the way.”
She glanced at him and smiled then continued reading. She flew enough that she had learned it was better to just not talk then make small talk with the strangers around her.
“You know I am quite a fan of the criminal profiling genre of books, actually the entire human mind amazes me.”
The woman realized that reading around this man, Mark? Did he say his name was? Would be impossible. But he didn’t seem to be the regular creeper bent on hitting her or the desperate traveler I need of a conversation. So she gave in.
For the next half hour the discussed their fascination with the human mind and how it works. They talked about their jobs. How they were in and out of air ports all the time. Often time in different cities every other week. She had a home in San Francisco she rarely saw. He had a loft in Manhattan he had not been to in months. They talked till they boarded their separate planes for separate destinations.
Two strangers on two different paths. In two different worlds.
Many weeks past and it didn’t take long for her to forget the stranger in the airport. In fact she had forgotten all about him. As he had forgotten her.
It was a rainy Thursday afternoon in the Seattle airport. The woman was in need of a coffee and was thrilled when her caramel macchiato was placed up on the bar. As the order was called she went grab it only for her hand to meet with another.
“oh I’m terribly sorry mama”
The woman looked into the face of the man she had forgotten and remembered.
“you!”
She was pleasantly shocked to meet him again.
“Well, if its not a small world. I do believe we have met once before, Kate is it?”
He was secretly pleased to have run into the beautiful women with the beautiful mind once again.
As they meet again the second coffee was placed on the bar. They grabbed their drinks and sat down to talk as they waited for their flights. They talked about their lives since they had last seen each other. Never going into too much detail. Never saying to much neither ever knowing much about the others true life.
This time when they left they exchanged numbers. They had created a friendship of sorts. Two strangers who met in an airport.
Whenever they found a moment when they would be in the same city or could arrange a lay over in the same town they did. They never left the airport. Coffee every few weeks one day Chicago another Austin.
They never spoke into much detail of their lives. Just enough to keep a conversation and only long enough till one of them had to catch a flight.
They never told each other but in a strange way they had fallen in love. They both knew it was a relationship that would never work they were from different worlds. With only airports in common. But they were lovers of sorts lovers in an airport starbucks.
*not done I need a good closing but I cant think of it right now.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
I Cant Speak and I cant Hear But I dont Care
So I make it a goal I attend at least one concert a month. Last night I went to the Hollywood Undead Concert at the San Diego House of blues. Strange that I love this band, I tend to shy away from this genre of music with those type of lyrics however they seem to be an exception in my mind. But my choice in music is not what this blog is about but about why I go to Concerts.
Pushing my way through the crowds of people with the goal of making it as close to the stage as I can. People jumping pushing and shoving. The rush of toppling over and trying to get up before you get hurt. I LOVE THE RUSH THE CRAZINESS I LOVE IT! Standing there in front of the stage the pulse of every beat pulsing through every part of my body. Screaming as i rich out my hand and the lead singer grabs it. I love this feeling. I don't think many things beat the rush of going to a concert.
Pushing my way through the crowds of people with the goal of making it as close to the stage as I can. People jumping pushing and shoving. The rush of toppling over and trying to get up before you get hurt. I LOVE THE RUSH THE CRAZINESS I LOVE IT! Standing there in front of the stage the pulse of every beat pulsing through every part of my body. Screaming as i rich out my hand and the lead singer grabs it. I love this feeling. I don't think many things beat the rush of going to a concert.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
18 and starting over
So as many of you know ( idk why im addressing this like a lot of people read this I know only like 3 do) any who...... In the last 11 months I have severely made some changes in my life.
In 20 min i turn 18. I dont look at this as another birthday but as another life. I look at it as a complete redo. That I have gone through childhood, Preteen years, Teen years, and am now entering Adulthood.
I hope I can live up to my own expectations.
In 20 min i turn 18. I dont look at this as another birthday but as another life. I look at it as a complete redo. That I have gone through childhood, Preteen years, Teen years, and am now entering Adulthood.
I hope I can live up to my own expectations.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday night mind splat
Ok so tomorrwo night is the last night of my last spring musical at rancho. It kinda sucks. I find myself in tears to think about it. I remember my first day in the drama room. A little afriad taken back by all the posters and pictures on the walls. I remember my first show. The Wizard of Oz I remember not knowing anyone. I remember meeting Bailey and creating a friend. I remember My first green room and being completly confused on what was going on. Im sad to see it all end. I dont want it to. Years of memories many many friends. Ill miss you all. Thank you for being my family! Thank you for cureing tears and creating laughs. Thank you all of you!
Ok so im also a little upset right now. So im going to mira Costa, no arizona for me all because of money and yea im a little pissed about that. I feel like all i have worked for is nothing. THat i could have slacked off and it would not have mattered! GERRRRRRRRRR!!!!! there is not point! i feel cheated. I keep being told sorry... that dosnt help much....
uhhhg i keep trying to think of the good... well like, I get to have classes and two more years with Jez, and Jaymie... I mean thats cool... and I can transfer to a better school... but still GERRRR!!!!
Ok so im also a little upset right now. So im going to mira Costa, no arizona for me all because of money and yea im a little pissed about that. I feel like all i have worked for is nothing. THat i could have slacked off and it would not have mattered! GERRRRRRRRRR!!!!! there is not point! i feel cheated. I keep being told sorry... that dosnt help much....
uhhhg i keep trying to think of the good... well like, I get to have classes and two more years with Jez, and Jaymie... I mean thats cool... and I can transfer to a better school... but still GERRRR!!!!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Another new poem... Maybe a poetry slam entry?!?!?
ok well I cant take all the credit for this one... I have to give some to Nicki... cause it sorta branched off one of her poems, but I think hers is better.... sooooo here its at...
Go Back
Go back to the day I visited you at work,
and say I couldn't find a ride.Go back to the day I sent that text,
and study for a test instead.
Go back to the day I got in your car,
and scream.
Go back to the day I told you the truth,
and keep it my little secret.
Go back to the day you called,
and forget to call you back.
Go back to the day in the park,
and take back those memories.
Go back to the Crow,
and never look into your eyes.
Go back to the day I picked up the phone,
and forget who you are.
Go back to the weekend,
and tell you to forget it.
Go back to that night,
and decide to go out instead.
Go back to that vacation,
and invite someone else.
Go back to that text message,
and accidentally delete it.
Go back to that summer night,
and answer that phone call.
Go back to when you broke my bracelet,
and laugh at your childish manner.
Go back to that dance,
and tell you I'm busy.
Go back to that nervous phone call,
and be to afraid to make it.
Go back to the beginning,
and forget the path I took.
Skip to the end to hear you say,
"do you remember when?"
only to declare...
"I'm sorry I forgot."
and scream.
Go back to the day I told you the truth,
and keep it my little secret.
Go back to the day you called,
and forget to call you back.
Go back to the day in the park,
and take back those memories.
Go back to the Crow,
and never look into your eyes.
Go back to the day I picked up the phone,
and forget who you are.
Go back to the weekend,
and tell you to forget it.
Go back to that night,
and decide to go out instead.
Go back to that vacation,
and invite someone else.
Go back to that text message,
and accidentally delete it.
Go back to that summer night,
and answer that phone call.
Go back to when you broke my bracelet,
and laugh at your childish manner.
Go back to that dance,
and tell you I'm busy.
Go back to that nervous phone call,
and be to afraid to make it.
Go back to the beginning,
and forget the path I took.
Skip to the end to hear you say,
"do you remember when?"
only to declare...
"I'm sorry I forgot."
Friday, February 20, 2009
Poems
Okay so I have not written in a while, kinda busy with the spring musical and internship and classes and stuff... any who I have written a few new poems... possible submissions to artistic rhapsody!?! So tell me what you think... and i promise to open my mind a little more in up coming weeks... I know some people have been complaining that I haven't written anything in a while, *cough* Toni *cough*
feel free to leave comments...I love criticism, and complements are always nice!
*!WARNING!* SINCE I HAVE NOT POSTED ANY OF MY POEMS OR SHORT WRITINGS ON THIS BLOG YET I FEEL THE NEED TO SUPPLY THE FOLLOWING WARNING: I WRITE ABOUT TOPICS CONSIDERED BY MANY TO BE DARK AND OR MORBID. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME I AM NOT PLANING TO OFF MYSELF NOR AM I UNHAPPY. WHAT I WRITE ABOUT IS STRICTLY FICTIONAL WORK VERY RARELY A REFLECTION ON MY ACTUAL LIFE MORE. MANY OF MY WRITINGS CAN BE CONSIDERED AN EXTREME OVER EXAGGERATION. TRUST ME THERE IS A CLEAR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MY FICTIONAL AND NON FICTIONAL WORK, PERSONALLY I TEND TO THINK MY FICTIONAL WORK IS BETTER, NOW THAT'S A DEPRESSING THOUGHT.
#1 This poem stemmed off of the first line the words entered my head during Pre-Calc about a week ago and i was undecided what I was going to do with it until I got bored in Government the other day.
The love Garden
Love is a rose bed.
The scent draws you in.
The appeal of the sweetness,
tickling your senses.
You watch the beauty bloom.
But to touch is a dangerous game.
Scorn from bleeding finger tips.
The searing sweet pain,
coursing through your limbs.
A pain that's easily forgotten,
the next time you enter The Garden.
#2 This is a work in progress. I wrote it yesterday. The different color writing is the section i am unsure about. I also am not so sure if i need something else at the end. I feel like it is going some where but I'm not sure it just needs something. Suggestions would be great, *cough* Nicki *cough* =)
The Vampire's Kiss
The kiss of death.
The sweet taste of seduction.
The water of life.
The color of evil.
A pulsing taste of re-birth,
re-juvenated,
re-stored.
The slowing of the human heart.
Death at your own hand.
You take life.
This deed gives it to you.
You the night stalker.
The angel of death,
devil's minion,
or,
god's punisher?
Evil wrapped in high fashion.
Beauty surrounded by destruction.
A fear cursed in curiosity.
Welcome to the beautiful nightmare.
So you see that thing right bellow this line that says comment... do it!
Stay diffrent!
feel free to leave comments...I love criticism, and complements are always nice!
*!WARNING!* SINCE I HAVE NOT POSTED ANY OF MY POEMS OR SHORT WRITINGS ON THIS BLOG YET I FEEL THE NEED TO SUPPLY THE FOLLOWING WARNING: I WRITE ABOUT TOPICS CONSIDERED BY MANY TO BE DARK AND OR MORBID. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME I AM NOT PLANING TO OFF MYSELF NOR AM I UNHAPPY. WHAT I WRITE ABOUT IS STRICTLY FICTIONAL WORK VERY RARELY A REFLECTION ON MY ACTUAL LIFE MORE. MANY OF MY WRITINGS CAN BE CONSIDERED AN EXTREME OVER EXAGGERATION. TRUST ME THERE IS A CLEAR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MY FICTIONAL AND NON FICTIONAL WORK, PERSONALLY I TEND TO THINK MY FICTIONAL WORK IS BETTER, NOW THAT'S A DEPRESSING THOUGHT.
#1 This poem stemmed off of the first line the words entered my head during Pre-Calc about a week ago and i was undecided what I was going to do with it until I got bored in Government the other day.
The love Garden
Love is a rose bed.
The scent draws you in.
The appeal of the sweetness,
tickling your senses.
You watch the beauty bloom.
But to touch is a dangerous game.
Scorn from bleeding finger tips.
The searing sweet pain,
coursing through your limbs.
A pain that's easily forgotten,
the next time you enter The Garden.
#2 This is a work in progress. I wrote it yesterday. The different color writing is the section i am unsure about. I also am not so sure if i need something else at the end. I feel like it is going some where but I'm not sure it just needs something. Suggestions would be great, *cough* Nicki *cough* =)
The Vampire's Kiss
The kiss of death.
The sweet taste of seduction.
The water of life.
The color of evil.
A pulsing taste of re-birth,
re-juvenated,
re-stored.
The slowing of the human heart.
Death at your own hand.
You take life.
This deed gives it to you.
You the night stalker.
The angel of death,
devil's minion,
or,
god's punisher?
Evil wrapped in high fashion.
Beauty surrounded by destruction.
A fear cursed in curiosity.
Welcome to the beautiful nightmare.
So you see that thing right bellow this line that says comment... do it!
Stay diffrent!
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