randomness.

i haven't posted on here in a while.
i think it's because i find the need to throw random emotions into my words and call it something.
anything.
and that makes no sense at all, so let's move on.

i just need to go home.
it's all i can think about, all i want, to the point of considering not doing my exams.
i miss everything.



i fought with my mom today.
she doesn't understand how it feels to be miles away and still have responsibilities to the people i left behind.

i hate it.

almonds.

tonight i saw a play about melancholy.
it was strange, but there was a line that caught me.

"we seem as as far apart as the space between stars."

they say that melancholy tastes of bitter almonds.

hello, again.

wow.
i have been neglecting this like nothing else.
i suppose i should make a conscious effort to write at least once a day. which is a conscious effort i make approx. every week. oh well.

first order of business: i got a new camera!!!!
it's a canon rebel xt, and i love it! it's all shiny with a zoom lens and strap and leather bag.
though it does come with some fears. this photography class is my favorite one, and while the teacher scares me to death, i adore her and respect her as a professor. but for our previous assignments, when they all came out blurry or full of noise or not sharp enough, i blamed my camera. but now, i have a good one--was the problem really my camera, or am i a terrible photographer? i look at other peoples' pictures and feel incredibly inadequate. i have studied all of the technical stuff and got an A- on my midterm, something i'm proud of. but will it be enough?

i spent the day listening to so much music.
currently addicted to last.fm. username is taylorrness, if anyone wants to add me on there.

song i can't get enough of: polaris - jimmy eat world.

good night.

pink bullets.

i've loved this song for a long, long time.
the line "the years have been short, but the days were long" always meant something right around graduation time, both for middle school and high school. (the fact that i listened to the shins in eighth grade still boggles my mind.)
so. lyrics.

-----

I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole
You held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold
Oh what a contrast you were
To the brutes in the halls
My timid young fingers held a decent animal.

Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick
Sweet as a song
The years have been short but the days were long.

Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass
We fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed
When our kite lines first crossed
We tied them into knots
And to finally fly apart
We had to cut them off.

Since then it's been a book you read in reverse
So you understand less as the pages turn
Or a movie so crass
And awkardly cast
That even I could be the star.

I don't look back as much as a rule
And all this way before murder was cool
But your memory is here and I'd like it to stay
Warm light on a winter day.

Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick
Sweet as a song
The years have been short but the days go slowly by
Two loose kites falling from the sky
Drawn to the ground and an end to flight.

coming up short.

i told myself i was going to write here every day.
and clearly i fail at this.

i procrastinate far too much. big exam due on friday, with a two to three page essay as well, and i really need to be doing it. right now. but instead i am congratulating myself for doing well on my exam today by watching one tree hill. lots and lots of one tree hill. because what's better for a "i rock" party than a large amount of nathan scott?
nothing, i tell you. nothing at all.

so on that note, i'll say "hello" to all my new followers (love you, jm.org-ers!) and to my old ones too.
i wish you all a wonderful night.

you're the reason why.

there's a reason i deleted you off my facebook in the first place.
it's because i hated logging on and seeing your status updates, your silly posts on other people's walls, your photos from weekend adventures.
but then you had to notice i was gone.
too soon.
you had to fight for me back, even when i didn't want you to.
then, when i finally responded to all of it, you had to be sweet.
right before i left.
just as you started dating her. finally.
so i added you back.
and we've said nothing since.

i'm not supposed to still be thinking of you.
i'm supposed to be off in my big city, far away from you, moving on.
across the country.

but i still hate seeing your status updates.


reason why - rachael yamagata.

why i am not a poet.

a poem by e.e. cummings i stumbled upon tonight.
i adore him, and love this.


somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands

setting goals and making changes.

So I just signed up for NaNoWriMo.
Which, for those not in the know, is National Novel Writing Month. Basically from November 1st through the 30th, you're supposed to write a whole novel. It makes goals for you and word counts, to keep you on track. I feel like I'm going to fail at this, since I'm such a procrastinator and I'd rather watch Supernatural or Pushing Daisies or one of my million other shows instead of concentrate.
Plus poem writing has been my thing recently.
But what the hell. I'm living a little.

Random, but I have had killer headaches for the last few days. I wonder if it's because of my sudden obsession with music. I mean, I'm always into music, of course. But lately it's become this addiction, where I need it and crave it and spend my whole day waiting for when I can listen to some Rachael Yamagata or Sufjan Stevens. Calming.
Though earlier, I couldn't stop listening to Beck and William Tell (specifically Fairfax).
So I guess my ear isn't quite as discerning as I'd like.

And finally, awkward note: my frequent OC watching has caused a renewed crush on Benjamin McKenzie, aka Ryan Atwood. He's soooooo adorable. Why has he done nothing since this show ended? Why are there not more big strong protective Ryans in the world?

Though at this point, I'd kill for a funny, sarcastic, too skinny, incredibly dorky Seth.

frowny face.

today has been one of those melancholy days.
i'm actually feeling much better now, but not before creating an extremely long playlist.
here's a sampling.

wonderwall - ryan adams.
the biggest lie - elliott smith.
something vague - bright eyes.
orange sky - alexi murdoch.
if you leave - nada surf.

perhaps this should be a series.
it helps a lot.

sweet musical depression.

all i have today is a song.

the way we get by.
spoon.

and with that, i'm off to my obsessions.

purple lines.

You traced the cobwebs with a fingertip,
Coloring me purple, pencil-thin.
My heartbeat in your hands
Facets of life, dulled
By your skin on mine.

Candlelight and tears
Keep me awake at night, waxy
Reminders that cut the evenings in half.
The sun shines in my window
Some days.

Tasting the color blue--
Sweet depression, a faint revival
And the beginnings of reasoning.
Meadows stretch for years on either side
But red is all I see with you.

In all my memories, your stripes are faded.
A product of the time, or
Symbol of what it meant to be me:
I can’t remember anymore.
Forget about it.

Your sentences spread across the page
With all the twang, all the talk
I’ve come to expect.
You say the right thing at the right time
She laughs and leans in, ready.

Keep it simple, but don’t ever let me go.
Lines spread out from your fingers
Purple ropes
Binding my pulse to your contact.
My scissors left rust behind.

hard to get used to.

for the last two days, i've opened this blog contraption here and started typing. i wanted to tell you about this new poem i wrote. i wanted to tell you about my unwanted hermit nights with the full series of gilmore girls on dvd. last night, i felt the need to obsess about the new cover of mgmt by jack's mannequin. but every time i started typing, it felt wrong.
i need to work on that.

you know what i hate most of all? broken plans. i hate someone saying "yeah, let's do that!" and then when it gets time to, they back out. i'm always the one whose plans are broken, and i never have an alternative. for example, today me and my roommate were supposed to go to the seahawks game today. they are playing the packers, aka my hometown. but alas, things fall through, and i am doomed to another day of wondering why rory left dean in the first place.

i still need to post some writing on here. maybe later tonight. if y'all don't mind double posting. but for now, i think i'll end with lyrics. that seems to be the cool thing to do.

A summer drive away from dying: a broken heart nothing to lose.
I know it hurts so bad just trying to please the ones you hate to love.
And I wrote this note about someone I used to know
so I'd remember how life can be so short when you're left alone to wonder
how it is someone opens and shuts the door.

I know you're cold but come home.
It's a shame how short we all have come.

Headlights - The Classic Crime.
(this is an mp4, AAC file. iTunes only--sorry!)

why, hello.

dear self: welcome to the big, wide, wonderful world of the internet.

instead of waxing poetic about my loves (andrew mcmahon, college-ruled paper, lilacs) and other various stuffs about myself, i've decided to just leave this rather empty.
let it be a surprise.
after all, being unexpected is half the fun.

but i will give y'all a taste of what will come--lots of music.
this is all the necessary introductions for an introductory post such as this one.
Belle & Sebastian - Wrapped Up In Books.

methinks that's all for now.
hope this is enough.