In Twenty Four Hours An Altered Person Emerges.

My views change quickly...

I didn't intend for the shift to be sudden or harsh. The truth is children, life can be rough. Life can be worse than a horror movie, or losing a poker game all in.

Life throws some people a lucky hand, others don't play with a full deck, and people like myself perpetually lose round after round.

I lost again and again.

I fold.

It isn't fair to my readers to be so vague and morbid...

I don't think that any of you readers could relate. I have lived more life than most old people. I am frightened by what I've seen. I grow, but weeds choke my roots. I have been wounded too deep for stitches, another solution is required. I hope to hopes that there will be a cheerful pinnacle ahead for me. We shall see. Life has been cruel to me twice this week. I know I can't ever be the same person again. It is strange, the first issue seemed so big and scary, but I knew that I would adjust after time. The second issue is one that does not heal, even with time.

Never ask "How much worse could things possibly be?" The outcome is unspeakable.

Trust me, I know.

I had high hopes, but in my case things go from bad to worse.

In all my life I never imagined that brutality directed towards me would peak to this kind of extreme.

This is my last post, the final stand of all I am.

Goodbye Ink and Paper Trente Deux

Moving all the time, even though it doesn't help for long.

I still can't move fast enough.

It's right there, I'll head that way.

The rain pours all over me.

Cleansing away my rocky night.

It's early in the morning, the sky turned over colors twenty minutes ago, from black to fuzzy pink and then on to it's current shade of bright yellow.

The yellow is on one side of the sky.

On another side there are dove gray clouds sprinkling a moisture which calms me.

Thunder.

Rain.

There's nothing shinier in the world, a glimmering prism lies to the west.

I wildly chase it.

I am laughing and skipping and I don't care who sees me.

I notice an elderly gentleman looking out his garage, deciding whether or not his morning paper is worth being drenched in the cool droplets for.

I think so.

The end of the rainbow evades me.

It's so very close.

I know for certain what Power brought it close to my house, knowing I would see it.

How thoughtful, I am not surprised.

I had been writing, and drinking Ceylon tea, looking out my window, minding my own silly business when it caught my eye.

Thanks.

I keep chasing it.

I tried too hard.

I am happy and grateful that it exists at all.

I lie in the moist grasses in the park by my house, in my morning clothes.

The scents all around me are soothing; rainy air, honeysuckle, and grass are a lovely combination.

If only I had my tea here.

Next time I'll take a thermos, if I am given the chance.

Goodbye Ink and Paper Trente et Un

Initiation.
Limitation.
Lame.

"You look pretty when you are crying"

"I want your picture, but not your words"


Turtle Island
By the dock of the pond Turtle Island
I will wait there weeping silently
With a murky green reflection
Creeping up behind me
Stranded on Turtle Island
Waiting in solitude
Find me on a mound of sand

Goodbye Ink and Paper Trente

I like Spring. I like the powerful presence of a thunderstorm whipping away at foliage outside my window under a swirling lapis sky. The winds give a marvelous texture to the clouds. They sit against the heavens in such a way that it calls to mind the impasto technique of a Jane Frank painting... wait... no comparison. Nature trumps Jane Frank...anyday.

I felt like dancing. I could have danced the whole night away... I half wished a funnel cloud would come along and take me off to the Emerald City, but I remembered that I wasn't dressed properly for that.

I know it's out of the blue, but I am reading Maupassant at the moment and I thought that it had some relevance :

'I always wanted to know what it was like to be wicked and actually ... it turns out to be not at all that much fun' - Collected stories of Guy De Maupassant

This isn't the clearest picture in the world, but we had a tea party a while back

I picked out the flowers...

I like violets, I brought some of those to my aunt's house. I prefer gardenias to any other flower, so I brought even more of those.

I highly recommend throwing a tea party. There must be fresh flowers, perfectly steeped tea, fairy sized foods, and a dress code that makes florals mandatory.

That's not the half of it. The guests should have a bright smile inside and out. The hostess should have the brightest smile of all. Most importantly, Everyone assembled should be prepared for lot's of talking about every subject under the sun.

As much as "I like Fall" I also like Spring and Summer... this is an addition to my spring/summer soundtrack

Beach House : Devotion

It's a lovely little album... use it wisely. I have been listening to it a tad too much. I do this whenever I find something new and shiny. It is playing as I write this ... I take things too far.

It is mellow and chill. My only qualm is the lack of acoustic.

All I want to believe

Is that I am better

Round and round

All I wanted to see

Is myself, better

round and round

And you helped me

So thank you

I am lovelier

All the better

^ Beach House - Lovelier Girl

Goodbye Ink and Paper Vingt Neuf

I do odd things.

I write in the early morning hours. I listen to 1960's British pop songs while writing papers (Sandie Shaw- My Darling Daughter.) I have a favorite coffee mug that I use every morning. I don't like to go out to eat, so I am making one new dish each week at least. I check the weather for the week and then I pick out outfits for each day. I line up the selections in order in my closet. I have to force myself to fall asleep. I am always afraid that once my eyes are closed and they stay that way for too long I will miss out on something. I type tutu instead of too too when I want to put an emphasis on the word too. I dislike when people text things like sigh, I never do it, and when people do it to me I completely ignore it (sometimes the entire message if it contains it). It isn't fair and is most likely a little mean, but I think that it is better than pointing it out every time. I automatically assume that everyone in the world loves literature and can listen to classical music for long stretches of time. I can't wrap my finger around the idea that some people eat meals in front of a television set.

I have always wanted to step into a fairy tale by accident (or whim) and be crowned Forest Princess, I even tried to kiss a frog earlier tonight (Not making this up by any means).

These are my six (un)important things that make me happy. (Was I tagged? I think technically, I mean, you did ask? Right Jenny?)

1. Fairy Tales

2. Colorful Pebbles that turn up in my shoe

3. Ceylon Tea

4. Beach House (it's a band)

5. Doing Laundry/Dishes in solitude I can think deeply while doing household tasks

6. Fancy Writing Utensils/Paper

Goodbye Ink and Paper Vingt Huit

Thinking of how it could go...

Looking into my rearview mirror. I can see her disappear. She won't fade very softly into the backround scenery. She is a stark contrast to the waving greenery. The grass and the plants shift with the wind. She holds her ground. She defiantly stays there not knowing the rhythms in the breeze. She pretends that she stays sedentary because that is where she belongs. This isn't right. She stays still because the natural motions scare her.

None of this matters anymore. I have a deer halfway through my windshield.

Rearranged.

Sometimes you have an uncontrollable wave of emotion. It might cause you to do something drastic. Do it if you must, but just please don't let anyone see you, especially me. It's really distasteful. I'll even go so far as to have my back turned while you clean up your little mess, the byproduct of a temper tantrum.

Open and Closed.

Leave it open. Close it when prompted. I don't want to have to probe him with questions the whole while. Open. I berate the one I shouldn't. I toss things around the yard. Closed. I am dancing, and singing, and laughing, and carrying on, and now I am almost out of breath. What a lovely time to have. Opened, but only slightly ajar. I don't know the correct way to think. Clues pour into my head like little shocks. It's okay though, I know who to blame, afterall I tied down the straps, but then again you turned on the switch...

I slam it closed, I lock it with a deadbolt. Timing is everything. Happily, I am locked in.

This is for all of you faithful readers out there, you know what your IP's are.

I have a new persona.

I drive around in my car, sitting on a pillow in my Simple shoes listening to the Samples, Fleet Foxes, and Woody Guthrie. I utilize my immense scarf collection (Thank you Forever21). I colorfully shape my life into that of someone beyond recognition ( Everything is fine, all the time, and if something isn't fine to someone else, I feel that they are making a big deal out of nothing).

It's nice being an island. I have three locks as means to keep people out. The downside is that I lose my keys a lot (remind you of anyone I idolize?). I lose my keys and that is bad because I can't even get into where I need to be. I can't get out of where I don't want to be and that is worse yet. The problem should be resolved in due time. I have made four new copies.

Everything is chill. You need to relax.

Someone help me, It has been three days. I can't keep up this pretending. If you tell me to just "be yourself Kerrie", I may laugh. Is there anyone who knows how to "be yourself". I'll try, but I am not making any promises. How could I?

I better stop I am getting all Gabriel Marcel-ish (One of the forerunners in existentialist thought) on you. I don't like him, so we can't have that now can we?