They’re at it again. Violent sobs and broken fragments of english with a varied vocabulary of Tagalog. High pitched yells to discreet murmurs—another re-run of Family Feud. My mother is vulnerable, her usual screaming watered down by tears and a choke hold of words left unspoken, my father, usually collective and calm, now defensive over secrets that are no longer kept. What happens between the connect calls doesn’t alarm me, it has happened before, and I already know how it’ll go. Damn, they’re at it again. Sixteen and some odd years and tension boils, spilling atop this foundation of so called love. It’s tainted, now. My father, hiding some sort of secret behind his tongue, he plays so coy—how he takes after his older brother, my uncle, who has practically sold his life to the Devil. Infidelity, lies, addiction. Self-absorbed realities that have become so surreal in this present day. My mother, beaten by actions of hurt and betrayal—my father, my hero. How can things cut corners so suddenly, words like knives. Peel skin and pierce the soul. Why…they’re at it again.
As much as I love to write, my English portfolio assignment is being neglected by weighted bags and a body waiting for the break down. I was supposed to have my intro and body paragraph(s) rough draft complete and typed by now and all I’ve got is a thrown together world salad of nothingness which fails to exceed the requirements—so I’m going to go with some B.S. excuse about me forgetting to e-mail it to myself and I’ll have it turned in during Philosophy (same teacher for English and Philo). I don’t know why I had the urge to blog about this. My head hurts, my eyes are drooping, and my tongue is swollen because I foolishly consumed a spicy green pepper bit floating around the sauce to dip my egg roll in. How irrelevant was that? On that note, I will be tending to my priorities which consists of sleep.
-I ended up deciding to borrow my cousin’s old red prom dress, which is absolutely gorgeous, but because she is shorter than me by a good few inches, its already hemmed and shows my feet just a tad. Atop that, Danny is barely taller than me, so it’s to go with flats or—? (pictures to be posted soon) -Dilemma: It doesn’t zipper 3/4ths of the way, and that’s a major problem (more so my upper back oppose to my stomach area) -Solution: Work my ass off until May 12th and cross fingers for it to fit, otherwise I have no alternative. -Bonus: Hana got to talking to Danny and he was pressured by many of his friends to just take me anyways, spite our mini drama. So I now have a date again, thus altering my decision to go entirely. -Motivation: Work on bettering myself for Danny (emotionally, while we’re on a “break”) and lose some weight, damnit.
The fact that We Came as Romans are playing in Manila, Philippines just tickles me pink.
Although I’m not into post-hardcore/metal-core (or whatever genre) as much as I used to be, I still consider WCAR as my favorite metal band of all time. I’ve seen them three times and met them during last year’s Warped Tour (made them sign my $2 bill). It just blows my mind that their fan base has blown up to the extent of international tours and now they are the ones making headlines. I remember seeing them open for big bands and now it’s quite the opposite. With that, it’s also impressive they’ve reached Asia, especially the Philippines—my homeland! Who would’ve guessed they’d play on an island, I would definitely like the see the hype base over there. Hmph, the more you know.
Giving myself until 1 AM to finish this 1980’s AP US History Power Point. I was designated this job out my group by the luck of the draw and although it seems fairly simple to put together a few pictures and a caption, my over-achiever-procrastinator self says otherwise. I’m going in depth, trying to understand each topic that my partners did so that when it’s time to present my images, I won’t be so clueless. I’m so over-achiever status, I’ve made a separate document as to what I’ll say—see me! Anyways, I hate group projects because like many other previous scenarios, I have to e-mail bomb all my group members until they respond and of course, they finish last minute and/or neglect my messages. The whole thing is entirely too tedious and to put the cherry on top, I have to be at school at 7 AM tomorrow for an AP Psych Practice Exam, meaning I’ll have to wake up by 6:15 or so to get ready, also meaning I won’t have much sleep, thus making me a very, very unhappy Kaitlyn. Oh yeah—I’m “taking a break from my best friend” (drama-rama) and with that, I’m 80% sure I’m not attending my junior prom. So that’s always lovely (pang of sarcasm intended). Things are just not in my favor this week, or month, to be more precise. Hope you are all still alive and kicking—forgive me for the minor hiatus, I’ll presume blogging properly this weekend.
Need to rant to someone, anyone. ———- I’m livid and/or emotional, maybe both. I just went off on my best friend and never have I ever felt so compelled to pin-point a human being to the core. It’s confession session and there’s no mercy.
“The soul—which I’m defining as our capacity for these deeply positive human qualities—is something that, in most of us, desperately needs to be developed. Too many of us live in a fractured state, deeply divided against ourselves—often far more so than we are aware of or able to feel. We exist in a self-generated vacuum of moral ambiguity, where everything is relative and our attention is focused mainly on our emotional state. Most of us know a lot more about what really matters than we are willing to live up to. Indeed, we are attracted to that which is beautiful, profound, and meaningful but find ourselves lacking the soul strength to really struggle, to engage in a life-and-death wrestling match with our own division, cynicism, and inertia. The awful truth is that it is just easier for us not to care that much. In order to care that much, we have to be willing to feel a connection with life that is so deep that it hurts. We have to be ready to step onto the field of our own experience in a way that is authentic, unconditional, and deeply committed—to embrace a kind of fearless vulnerability where our transparency is our strength and the living experience of connection is permanent, unbroken, and inescapable.”—Andrew Cohen (via volmaaktheid)
On impulse at Best buy, I bought the Flying Lotus and Fleet Foxes CD. It isn’t entirely too bad, currently mellowing out to Flying Lotus—just a melting pot of sounds and the harp in the background. I can dig.
Some days I swear I can feel you splitting the light through the window frame. The shapes it makes are always warmer, always brighter than the rest of what comes through. Some days I swear I can hear you sing to me or whisper my name in the slightest way. It’s like the warmest light now laid across my bedroom floor is somehow actually you and Not just sunlight.
I have the memory climb down the balcony. I put a flower on the back of its dress. It’s probably best to forget it. It’s probably best to let go. I paint it the shade of where the skin and the lip meet, Only a moment after breaking the kiss. And I blur out everything else. That’s how I choose to remember it.
Some nights are a lot like the days, I lay awake too late, I watch the shadows casted Trace your shape. Those silver slivers on the wall then on the bedsheets. I hear your song in the trees. I finally fall into rest. Often later when I’m sleeping you show up in my dreams. Just doing simple things, like buying groceries. And when I wake up I could swear you must’ve just left me Like you got up to make breakfast or maybe just to get dressed.
“I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it, but I didn’t, not really. Only the smudgeness of it; the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn’t realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea. Because it’s the halves that halve you in half. I didn’t know, don’t know, about the in-between bits; the gory bits of you, and the gory bits of me.”—Anna - Like Crazy (2011)
I’ve been to Tysons, Dulles, Ross, Marshalls, and Burlington Coat Factory. I can not find a prom dress for the sake of my sanity. Are there any other convenient department stores I can go to? I want a neutral to solid based dress with nothing bedazzled or super raunchy, long dress, preferably. I refuse to order one online because I can’t rely on a picture and be unsatisfied..but if it’s my last resort, then.