Tu es juste un bébé

Damn those that make you feel belittled.

Damn the ones that stand on your shoulders and call themselves tall.

Damn the liars and the cheaters and the cut-in-line sneekers.

Damn them all.

I will feel tall today.

I will stand with my shoulders held back, head raised high with my eyes on the stars because I am me and that's a damn good thing to be.

I will tell you that you are small because you are.

I will let you know that I am no dork, no loser, no down-and-outer.

I am graceful, divine, resplendent, sublime, exquisite, and radiant.

And that's on an off day.

You feel as though you're powerful. You feel as though you're cool.

Well let me tell you, you little boy.

You are nothing more than the lies you build upon yourself.

You are the failures of your life.

You are the disappointment of your family.

You are the lead balloon trying to float.

Go ahead and make me seem small. Because in the end I am a mountain cresting amongst the heavens and you are but a valley collecting mud for the swine to bathe in.


Oh and whatever you do, don't ever piss off a writer.

Fast Track To Nothing: this place sucks

Do you want to know why I really don't enjoy living in my hometown? Because I am so dreadfully sick and tired of small, petty problems. Being here does nothing but suck you into these trite issues that, frankly, I couldn't care less about.

Who's mad at who today? Who screwed who last night? Ohhh they don't want a relationship because they like your best friend? Ew did you hear about Skank A and Skank B? Yeah they got in this huge fight outside "insert lame hangout here" and now they've sworn to never talk again.

Hey! Guess what! No one gives a flying fuck. Yep. I said it. I don't feel in the mood to sugarcoat things. And somehow, even though I make my feelings clear, I still become involved. Even personally involved. Like, falling for a piece of crap. Yeah, you'd think missy here with her sarcastic, slightly sardonic blog would know better than to run away with emotions. You'd think she would know that trash and losers make up 90% of the population, leaving only a sad handful to live in the squalor they create. But alas, it seems even I am not immune.

I don't mean to sound arrogant, but even in my short-lived time away from home I was able to briefly glimpse the outside world. A world where the immature actually become the mature over time. Where it's not impossible to surround yourself with people that enjoy things other than Lil Wayne and crappy beer. Don't get me wrong, every place has their trash, but it seems to me that B-Town has a larger than normal concentration of it.

I love being near my family and sadly, that means I see myself spending more time than I'd like here in the future. But you can bet your ass I will never lay down permanent roots if I can avoid it. This place is like a poison, seeping through my still-young veins. I want to get out while I'm still really alive. While I can still somewhat separate myself from the "culture" here.

I may have said this in a bit of an erratic, emotional state but so what. If I have offended anyone, I am sorry. I'm not sorry for saying it, just that you found it personally offensive.

Opinion

I saw a really breath taking movie (The Tree Of Life) the other day. I won't go into to much detail because, to be honest, it's one of those things you just have to see. After seeing the movie, I decided to look up reviews to see if maybe I could learn a little bit more about the symbolism that I may have missed (there was a lot). I started reading reviews from reputable sources and the longer I read them the more I just felt unagreeable. Why am I listening to these people?

Then all of a sudden it all felt very silly to me. I was literally going online to find people that could tell me what they thought of a movie (presumably, what I should think of the movie). I didn't know these people. They might not have similar tastes to me, even. So why on earth was I spending my time listening to them ramble on about a movie?

Why does anyone? Well, I think that question is quite easy to answer and hard at the same time.  People seek movie reviews so they don't have to form their own opinion. But it also goes deeper.

"Ehh, I looked it up. Bad reviews. I'm not gonna bother," is something I've heard far too many times. Or better yet, "Well, it looked good but gosh it's getting bad reviews. Rotten Tomatoes gave it a 20%. I'm not wasting my money on that".

Since when are we complacent to listen to other people's choices, feelings, and convictions? These days, it seems that to have an "opinion" one must  search the internet, television, and magazines just to get an idea of what's worth the effort or time. People are decided if they like something well before they ever see, read, or try it. It's sad that these are the ways of our world. Or rather, these are the ways of our society. I hate to sound hipsterish (yeah...I just coined that) but I would love to live some place in Europe where art, your true beliefs, and a love of life are all that guide you.

I am exploding

Every piece of me is on edge ready to take flight

With my arms held wide I let the skin of my face up to the sky

It leaves me for the great beyond

My hands lower to the cool, damp earth

They sink away into the soil

My eyes spot the  forest off in the distance

They leap from their home in search of fairy tale adventures

My feet find purchase on the gravel of a nearby road

They run...forever

My hips stumble upon the soft, soft sands of the beach

With sea spray misting all, they shake to the beat of the earth

All but one piece have gone, left for greater things

My heart, at first reluctant, floats to another

It will be safe there, protected

I am at home now.

Everywhere.

I'm Back!

I'm home. I'm at my old job. I'm settled in. Life is back to the way it was pre-New York. I hate that feeling. It's easy to just forget that whole year even happened. But it did and I will never let myself forget about it. Other than that, life is pretty normal right now. My life consists of Atlanta Bread, friends, family, and Atlanta Bread. That's okay for right now but I will happily admit that I'm quite ready to move to Orlando and begin my new college life.

In other news I'm considering starting a foodie blog. Specifically baking (duhh). I want my brother to do it with me and do the cooking side of it because he's actually a decent, self-taught cook. He's not so into that but maybe with some prodding I can get him to post a few times. I am hesitant to start this, though, because (as silly as this sounds) a blog is a responsibility to me. I love my blog. I'm proud of it. I try to post things semi-regularly and only about things that I truly care about. It's been quite a bit of work to not just quit. With that being said, starting another blog would be the same. I'm worried I simply won't have the time to make it perfect (or damn near, at the very least). Pair all that with the fact that I'm trying to start making videos with my long distance friend, Nicole, and you have one busy Kay!

I'll probably make it, just to see how cute it'll look and then we'll see if I actually post it.

I haven't forgotten about my blog! Well, that's partially a lie. In the midst of moving and starting my job again I'm just going to need a little while to get back into the swing of things. Promise!

It's That Time Again...

That's right, the day has almost arrived. Moving day. My boxes are stacked up high in my apartment. My dresser is empty and my pantry is barren. I am in the midst of my last week as a resident of Eden, NY.

As I wrote just about a year ago, how can this possibly be the right  decision if it hurts so much? This place is my home. I know the roads. I like my friends here. I don't want to leave. I really, really don't. I have known this day was coming, but, just as last time, it really didn't hit me until a specific point in time. One moment and everything comes crashing to a halt in front of you. This happened to be while I was driving home from my aunt and uncle's house tonight. I spent the whole evening there. Ate dinner, watched Glee with my cousin, made cookies. This is my normal now.

What am I going to do without Sunday dinner at Grandma's? Yes, she's not really my Grandma but that's the magic of it. She doesn't have to be blood related to me. That doesn't really matter a whole lot in the scheme of things. She's Grandma all the same. I don't want to leave the traditions I have been enveloped in. I may have grown up in Florida but a part of me never belonged there (and still doesn't). This feels like where I belong. My life keeps taking these twists and turns that I feel I'm not ready for. I've made it through all of them and I'm sure I'll make it through this one just the same but, to be frank, it sucks. This feeling sucks. I feel as though I'm leaving half my heart.

This isn't just a town. It's not just Western New York. That doesn't quite paint the picture right. This place has a culture I've never known. Buffalo isn't a city, it's a way of life. Beef on wic. PIZZA. Real German food. Real Irish food. Small shops. Family owned pubs. Chinese food (that up until last night I didn't know I liked). Winter festivals. Chestnut Ridge. Lawn fetes. Maple syrup. Backyard weddings. Family dinner. Game night. I'm doing such an injustice to this place by making a list. I could never write it all down.

And then there are things that can't be thrown on a list so easily. Sitting under an oak tree listening only to birdsong, wasting the afternoon away without a care in the world. Feeling the first rays of warm, warm summer sun. Watching the leaves burst into flames of brilliant color, watching them fall, and seeing the miracle of Spring shoot life into them in the form of pink purple burgundy yellow green blossoms. Taking a long drive just because you can. Windows down, hills ahead, fields all around, with only nightfall trying to stop you. And even then... Parking your car at the Pub for work and walking to the pizza place right down the street after. Knowing everybody.

Eden, and Western New York as a whole, is not something I can effectively write about. I'm not doing it justice. I can't. Maybe it's because I'm just not a good enough writer. But maybe it's something more than that. Maybe this place just has a little bit too much magic to be written down in all it's glory.

To every single person who has touched my life since moving here: I don't know how to thank you. To all my wonderful friends. To my Eden friends that have known each other all their lives and yet, without knowing me for more than a couple months, welcomed me into their group like somehow I belonged. To my school friends, we were and are such a misfit, odd group of people. No two the same. And yet we were able to bond so strongly. Never forget that that isn't something that happens often and may not ever happen in our lives again. I love you guys. To my family...I don't really know what to say. How could I? How could I thank every person for every single thing they have done for me? This blog post would turn into a novel, let me assure you. You know who you all are. Thank you. I love you.

It hurts my heart to think that I won't be here a week from now. But, as I said before, I've done this already. I got past the feeling of regret. I'll do it again. Just as every other little kid, I wished I was grown up. Not old (40...ew), but I wanted to be in my twenties sooooo bad. Well I'm almost there. Yeah just as I wished I have a car and a cell phone and no curfew and I can have a boyfriend (ha. ha.). I can go to bed whenever I want and I get to eat ice cream before dinner if I want. With all that good stuff I also learned how sucky it can be to be a grown-up. I take that with me, knowing that, just as it was true as a child, I can change my mind a thousand times and then a thousand times more. Decisions are not life and death (usually...that doesn't count for doctors). Just because I am leaving this beautiful place does not mean I won't return.

With that knowledge, I arm myself. That, and the comforting thought that I have a kickass road trip to look forward to.

Goodnight all. I think I've bawled my eyes out enough for one night.