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Angel

Angel dark and angel light.

Angel wrong or angel right?

Turn away to look at me.

Close your eyes so you can see.

Angel bright of far away

To leave, when I wish you’d stay.

Angel drains all my courage;

Angel, my knife, my scourge.

Angel live and angel die.

Angel damned? or blessed on high?

Angel taking all my love

Only to flee back above.

Angel brilliant, angel daft.

Angel with your wicked craft.

I asked, and you said it’d not

End in all this pain I got.

Angel black and angel white.

Angel, come and stay the night?

I thought you would take my fear

Not realize and make it near.

Angel loved and angel loathed.

Tears that pour and blood that flows.

Angel! won’t you go away?

Angel! Angel! won’t you stay?

Angel live and angel die.

Angel damned, Saint blessed on high.

Angel come back, take my heart

Angel, give me one more start.

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Art vs. Functionality

Hello everyone. I need some help here. Just had a ‘disagreement’ with my boyfriend about whether Dyson products are art. My argument was “it’s a vacuum cleaner. I mean really.” And then he went on and on about how if you hang its parts from the ceiling in a museum it is art, and the fact that it functions is just an added perk. 

So, my least favorite part of all of this is that for some reason this has caused a good 10 minutes of silence between us, which never happens.  So I want to know, is it really art? What, exactly, is art. 

I like fashion. I spend my free time on pinterest and London-based designer websites. It’s not that I don’t appreciate good design. But I more so appreciate practicality. I love everything on the fashion websites I visit, but I’m not going to pay $200 (on the low end) for something that I would never wear. I have no use for party dresses and diamond studded things; 4 inch studded caged sandals. What good is any of that to me?

I’m a college student. I don’t have a car on campus, so I walk everywhere. Heels mean nothing to me. I have one pair for when I have to go do something important like give a presentation or go to someone else’s church (I go to a jeans and sneakers kind of church). I have tennis shoes for days when I have to walk a lot, a pair of Wellie’s for when it’s raining, and otherwise a pair of canvas flats I love and plan on wearing until the soles are gone. Also, I’m 5’8″. If I wear 4 inch heels, I will not only most likely trip every three steps, but will also be taller than literally all of my friends. Pretty? Yes. Useful? Not at all.

As a college student you may assume that I go out drinking and go enjoy the nightlife in the city around the university. Well, actually, I have homework to do. All the time. And when I don’t, I sleep. I’ve been to a club once, and I wore skinny jeans and a tanktop. I have a dress for super-special occasions, but certainly nothing that a little black minidress would be appropriate for. For presentations, I wear black slacks and a blouse. For life, I wear jeans and a hoodie. For sleep, I wear sleep pants. There’s really no need for me to look like I just fell off of a runway in New York. I mean, I like to look good, but it doesn’t interfere with my existence. 

The one thing on me on any given day that could be considered well-designed or artistic is my nails. I like to give myself manicures when I have any spare time. Why? Because it’s fun and I like the way it looks and it all started as I was looking to save some money before prom. It is, in fact, functional, as it is something I like and doing it myself saves money.  I wouldn’t say it’s particularly well designed, nor would I say it is art. But it works.

Another example I could give is automobiles. There are many pretty, well designed automobiles. But I would not consider them art. It is possible for them to have art in the paint job, but any design on the exterior does not affect function. The general coats of primer, paint, and clearcoat all serve the purpose of preventing rust and other damage to the body of the vehicle, but a solid color is not really art is it? 

So that is my argument on why functional things are not art. And, by extension, why Dyson products are not art. They are concrete things, while art portrays abstraction. And, as a generalization that I have made that may or may not be correct, most artistic things I encounter are lacking in a functional purpose for my life. 

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Thanksgiving, etc.

So I’m going to quit pretending I have a faithful, engaged readership of important people and just kind of let some things out.

It’s 1:29 am on thanksgiving morning. I can’t sleep. And I’m trying to figure out why not. Maybe it’s from thinking about all I have to be thankful for and how much I don’t deserve any of it. Or maybe it’s everything I should probably be thankful for but I’m not. Or it could be that everything that has ever gone wrong is fighting with terrorizing thoughts of everything that will go wrong ever to decide which one stays in my head.

Or it could just be too much caffeine.

Regardless, it’s holiday time once again. The time where we put on our happy faces, act like we care about each other, and pretend we don’t want to kill ourselves for the benefit of people we only see once a year. Our ears are assaulted with the same 2 dozen Christmas carols covered by various artists on very radio station and in every shopping mall. Some of these even have the nerve to be love songs, reminding us of all of out fail-tastic relationships of past holidays.

We stuff out faces with ridiculous quantities of food as we make our second trip to church for the year and give the special tithe to send rice to Ethiopia. We stuff a dollar in the bucket for the Salvation Army Santa Claus so he stops ringing that stupid bell for a second. That is, after we’re done murdering each other to get the last Xbox on the shelf.

We watch the same cheesy movies on television. We buy pointless gifts for people just to prove we care, and sometimes we buy gift cards so they can see just how much we care. We fight and fuss over trees vs. nativities vs. menorahs. Happy chrishanakkwan to you too.

We break out the horrid festive sweaters for their annual wearing when whichever detached relative who got it for you comes to visit. At least they have long sleeves; cover up those scars. We have enough to explain about our lives at the dinner table. Like why on earth we would date someone who’s entire family didn’t spontaneously generate in the same small town as ours. Someone with brains and a future.

Normally I’m very excited for the holidays. Music, cookies, lights and snow and such. This year? Nah. What’s there to look forward to? Another year of misery and wanting to just die because I’m surrounded by a whole horde of hypocrites.

Christmas is about love and simple joy of being right? Somebody love me for me then. Somebody, just be thrilled with the fact I exist. Somebody make this worth it.

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The Election

Greetings!

You knew it was coming: my rant about the United States presidential election tomorrow. So here it is! I hope it at least makes you take one final look at the candidates’ stances before you head out to the polls.

In my opinion (please keep that phrase in mind while reading this) there is no perfect candidate for the job of president. No one on the ballot has any military experience. President Obama has done poorly economically, but believes people should have their rights. Mitt Romney knows how to handle economics, but completely discounts the “47%” and refuses many people their basic rights. Gary Johnson wants to take away subsidies for agriculture and alternative energy but wants to keep the government out of issues it doesn’t belong in (aka people’s love lives). Unfortunately, I have not researched any other candidates running; I will not embarrass myself by making any claims regarding them.

The real problem is our political system, where we are told third party votes “don’t count” or are “wasted” and we must choose the “lesser of two evils” from either Democrat or Republican. It is a negative feedback loop where people are conned into voting for someone they don’t particularly like, complain about them for the next four years, then, come next election, do nothing about it, yet again. Voting is an honor and a responsibility that we need to take seriously and use wisely. We owe it to those who have fought for our rights to be informed and vote for who best agrees with what we believe.

So that’s what I think. Vote because you can. Be informed because you can. Don’t sacrifice you’re right to vote for who you want just because someone tells you they aren’t important or can’t win.

In other news, I have obtained a boyfriend! But fear not, I will still be posting my dark love poems. I’m working on some ideas for a new story; probably a progressive futuristic society (as opposed to the regressed one in Woodsong) about taboo love between humans and androids.

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New Poem “Dark”

Just wrote a poem because I’m bored. Fair warning, it’s another pathetic dark love poem. Read at your own risk. 🙂

DARK LIGHT
DAY NIGHT
DEATH LIFE
WRONG RIGHT ?

If dark is but an absence of light
Day must then be absence of night.
Because by day I’m drunk on life
But by night I’d often rather die.

And who’s to say these cuts are wrong?
What adds rightness to your song?
You had your chance to act like you care.
You blew it, blew it hard outta there.

My blood and skin is not your deal.
It wasn’t good enough when it was real.
Anyway what’s it matter to you?
Your tender words have never been true!

So go along your merry way
And find some chick that makes your day.
God only knows I wasn’t good enough…

And never will I be good enough.
And why is life always so tough?
When someone so perfect is sitting right there
But he,
Like you,
Just doesn’t care.
So I’m alone still.

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Hope

Hello all my wonderful readers! I hope the autumn (spring in the southern hemisphere. I’m jealous!) is treating you well.

First off, I want to somewhat apologize for the things I post on this blog. On the one hand, this is my personal blog and the outlet of all my ideas, but I understand that the things I post aren’t always encouraging or helpful to anybody, anywhere. On the other hand, some of you may find it nice to know that someone else is going through what you are. I just want to tell you that everyone out there who seems pretty happy overall, they have their own share of darkness too. Personally, I choose to let it out on this page because I need somebody to know, but not somebody I know. You probably understand what I’m getting at.

Anyway, psychology is not what I’m writing about today. In August, I moved from a small little farming town in the mountains to a big capital city to attend college, and, quite frankly, scary stuff has been happening around campus. Armed robberies, stabbings, etc. This is to be expected just based on location, but I’m not writing about rifts in economic status today either.

What I want to write about today is hope. (Hey look. A title for this post.) It’s easy to get overwhelmed with the negative things that are going on in your life, your community, the entire world. So, I want to share a challenge one of my professors gave our class yesterday. Think about touchstones in your life. Think about what makes you happy, what gives you hope in your life. If you want to share them for other people to see, then leave a comment. If you just want to write them on somewhere on a desk or even with a stick in the dirt, or just keep them in your head, that’s fine too. But focus for just a minute on the little specks of light in the darkness. Even if you only have one thing, or even if it’s something that just isn’t bad even if it’s not particularly good.

Now, take that thing or things, and keep them close to you, so when the darkness feels like it’s going to suffocate you (and it does sometimes. I know.), you have those little bits of happy there like an emergency supply of oxygen.

So I guess I’ll start things off. Things that give me hope: God, the love of all my friends and family, the very thought of the next time I’ll hang out with the most amazing guy I know, music, books, and the feeling of knowing that I’m where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m supposed to be doing, and loving every minute of it.

Much love to everybody out there! and much thanks to those guys who have been liking my posts!

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Everything You Ever Wanted

Hello everyone. Today was full of all kinds of loneliness and disappointment, so I wrote a poem about it.

Everything You Ever Wanted

How can I let you know?

How can I let you know

How lonely I am?

How much pain I feel?

How do I tell you

Everything you make me feel?

I was born with ‘truth’

But you got all the ‘courage.’

How can I let you know

That you make me so happy?

That God told me your name

While I was walking in the darkest dark?

What would you say?

If I told you what I do?

If I told you how I hurt?

If I told you how I love?

Would you save me?

If I told you I couldn’t take

Another night snuggling with shadows,

Would you hold me forever?

Would you save me?

If you somehow found out

How close to the edge I am?

Would you say

You love me?

I’m beautiful?

I’m everything you ever wanted..?

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A Little Love Song

Greetings to all my wonderful readers! I apologize for my absence recently. I haven’t had much time to write or come up with a decent political rant (though I have some in the works, don’t worry!) I did have a little time last Friday to work on some poetry though; this one basically encompasses an entire evening from when I was brainstorming for a new poem to the time I got to bed sometime the next morning. It’s really a lot of fun and it has a lot of references to different songs (Perks if you can pick them out!) because I was writing down random song lyrics when the whole thing started. Enjoy!

A Little Love Song

Here’s my number call me maybe

You’re all I can think of lately

Bored and lonely ’til you show

The day I’d have I couldn’t know.

Your smile melts my heart away

To see your face just makes my day

Your brilliant mind; Your beautiful soul

To be good enough for you’s my goal

But…

Tonight we’re brothers, nothing more

Together explore; I’m not a whore

What’s Taylor know? You look at me

My smile’s real, I want you to see

Come on darling, let’s be frank

Eyes can be stupid, ask ZeFrank.

I wish I knew the perfect mix

To make myself a stellar hit.

The mood is good, our spirits high

The birds are sleeping when Penny dies

But we don’t sleep, we watch the crimes

And even know a couple lines…

Please know my fears for you are real

I’ve seen what happens when you feel

You must be the happy extrovert

Be loved by all just to mask the hurt

…Just saying.

Keep me guessing, my wonderful

But never doubt my heart is full

If ever you need to hug or talk

Or laugh or sing or even walk

Heart tears open, I sew it shut

Far too often, probably. But

I’ll try my best to stay unbroken

So that you never need be lonesome

I’m terribly awkward, but I try

To make you laugh and catch your eye

Please calm down, don’t start a riot

It’s not my fault I don’t like diet.

Do we even have common Breakfast at Tiff’s?

You talk about drops, I talk about riffs…

So many dreams and so many hopes,

If only somebody would show me the ropes.

And even if I’m the girl unobserved

Be the writer, decide my words

And maybe I can be strong enough

To make you and me into an “us.”

From above the street of broken dreams

I see the cup presented to we

From which we took one final draught

Of a little more magic, another laugh

‘Cuz we’re already drunk from 12 hours of it

And it’s hard to be sober and deal with the shit

A broken cup, just one last taste

Like finding love in a hopeless place

And yet…

That song I wrote’s not what I’d say

If I were to sing to you today

So take this poem of other songs

And if you want, please sing along

Life itself’s a strange old rhyme

I guess for now I’ll take my time

Maybe your brother I’m meant to stay,

Still this was truly my best day.

So… Thanks. Bunches. 🙂