Hey, here's some music.

NaNo was a quick bust. This semester has dissolved into stress and constant business. Still churning out bad poetry like I get paid for it. Because apparently that's all I can handle at this point. A list of tracks/albums/artists I've been into lately:

Soft Shock (Acoustic) - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Reckless - You Me At Six
All Ends Well - Alter Bridge
Landfill - Daughter
Afraid - The Neighborhood
Lifeline - Maeve Kelly
It's Never Over (Hey Orpheus) - Arcade Fire
Counting Stars - OneRepublic
Hummingbird Heartbeat - Katy Perry
Anne with an E - The Pains Of Being Pure
Silly Boy - The Blue Van
(the entire soundtrack to The First Time)
The Truth - Audiomachine
DNA - Little Mix
November 1 - Balmorhea
Run - Rhodes
Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) vs. Seven Nation Army

The-Post-That-Must-Not-Be-Named

"And as I stared I counted
Webs from all the spiders
Catching things and eating their insides
Like indecision to call you
And hear your voice of treason"
--  blink-182

Pages and pages of drafts of poems and other writing sit in a folder on my computer waiting for the day they're ready to take the stage. Unfortunately, that day has not yet come for 99% of them, and it may never come. In their stead, here lies the 1%.
This is one of the rougher things I've written in a while that I'm partially proud of. (Maybe it's just the crazy-dramatic way I read it in my head, because I'm excruciatingly confident this poem is horrible by the lowest of standards.) But, rough is honest, I've always thought. While I believe all writers hope for perfectly polished and finished work, sometimes earlier drafts of writing can hold more of the original emotion behind the piece. The only real issue is that it's said poorly and somewhat ineffectively.
I digress. Here's an unnamed piece of trash I dug out of a school notebook.


I saw you in my sleep last night.
I could not for all my might
find what gave me such a fright.
I wanted to tell you,
I wanted you,
I watched you.
But find me there you did not.
That next day, in all my hope,
against instinct and every thought
to expect from such repetitive force,
that one day became the time I look to
when hoping, hopelessly, that one of these
wishes I have in my heart
can come true, but that day turned into
more, and before I could know
how my dull life would go
you found me
in my despair
and you told me
I could hope
and you taught me by lead
that something lost can be found
once again.

Summer's on its deathbed.

"The world is like a mask, dancing. If you want to see it well you do not stand in one place."
- Chinua Achebe

Summer is over. I hate to say I didn't see it coming. Yesterday was the fourth round of goodbyes, and for some reason it was the easiest. Everything ended well. It was not until I began to unpack my car at home that I realized what had happened a few hours before. I don't know when I'll see some of these people next. But every single second of not knowing has been worthwhile.
This is a note I typed up during a slow afternoon a few weeks back. It encompasses everything I'm going to spend the rest of my life being thankful for.

8.18.13
I've never been more confident in myself. That's my takeaway from this summer. More than ever before I've felt like I knew what I was doing and that I was a part of something amazing. Not only was staffing this summer the perfect way to grow myself, but I truly believe that I made a small difference in someone's life this summer. Whether that was the little girl who got to steer her own horse for the first time, the two-year-old who wished all week to be old enough for pony rides and got the chance, the women who got back on after 30 years, the staff member or clipper who got a chance to ride, the people who overcame their fear, or the little girl who rode with us after swearing she never would again.
I was more stressed and tired the past 3 months than I ever could have imagined, but every second and every tear and every bruise was worth it. I can't help but look back on the friendships, the jokes, the songs, the fires, the hugs, being so thankful for those first hellos and hoping these aren't our last goodbyes.
Coming into this summer, I was mostly convinced I wouldn't ever get to come back for a second. I cannot explain the pull I feel now. I'm doing everything I can to make sure I come back.
Going to the fair, going to people's houses, making plans for the year, games in the basement or lobby, movies, dinners, nights off, off-roading, hikes, Sheetz runs, waterfront Saturdays, talking about the past, talking about the future, inside jokes, never wanting to be assigned an animal and motion ever again, getting over stage fright, dancing like maniacs, gifts, food, dealing with injuries, encouragement, sports, snack bar shifts, call-outs in the dining hall, meetings, late night talks, and being part of a family.
I have no regrets. Every little step, good or bad, has brought me to where and who I am. When we say goodbye, and tell each other sincerely, it's been a blast, I can't wait til next year, you did a great job, and have a good year, it just sums up every too-deep emotion spreading through my body. Joy. Pain. Love. Gratitude.

Who holds your thoughts?
Can you tell me why this is a beautiful thing?
Can you articulate
the feel of the wind
or the hope of a night
spent in the place you're meant to be?
Can you easily comprehend
a face you'll never forget
or a distance you'd die to cross
for once and forever?

Hey, I'm back from the abyss!

Welcome back, Allison!

Oh, thank you, Allison.

You are quite welcome, Allison.

Yes, I continue this tragic conversation with myself post-summer hiatus. Lots of things have changed in the past four months. Below you will find some music I'm spending huge chunks of time listening to now that I've been reintroduced to technology as well as some crap I spewed out this morning that may slightly resemble poetry. I hope to be posting here again somewhat regularly. Welcome back to insanity, anyone who still cares.

Music:

Panic! at the Disco's new stuff (especially the music videos, cause duuuude)

looooots of Silversun Pickups

A Fine Frenzy

Bastille (looove)

You Me At Six (especially When We Were Younger)

Clarity - Zedd & Foxes

Safe and Sound - Capital Cities

Selena Gomez's new album

(okay here's the camp person in me coming out. no judgment please??)

Don't Ya - Brett Eldredge

Surprise - Family of the Year

Crash My Party - Luke Bryan

See You Tonight - Scotty McCreery

The Weight - The Band

It Goes Like This - Thomas Rhett

Poetry:

Reflections on a Life Not Lived

(or how you know

when the time has come)

I’m stuck in a mode of wanting to be

where and when and who I am not.

My mind sifts through images

like a slideshow of moments

that piece that horrible puzzle together.

A mess of beautiful exceptions to rules

we will not succumb to.

Force and pressure

outweigh stress and fatigue on the scale of life

and whatever balance we lack.

Eternities spent lingering.

What do we know of patience?

We live for each next moment

regretting what has not come.

4 Counting days in a

3 mantra does nothing

2 for one’s

1 health.

0

I wear my clothes with scars of memories abandoned,

dirtied over or thrown away

or washed from the senses

and mindless of connections made by each

strained worn decoloring thread.

My friends, I commend you

for surviving this landing,

the comeback, the lostness,

the empty days, monotonous discoveries

of what has just begun.

Think of it all again and again

until you tire of your own lament.

But do not dare leave it behind,

the bad and the worse and the end.

Hold all of these things as you live in new moments

and do not ever forget.

A Poem a Day...

I've been writing a lot--almost a poem every day, sometimes more than one, sometimes other things. It's mostly rambling and scribbles (sometimes I will actually just scribble for a while). Most of it is crap, and the rest is usually too personal for me to be comfortable releasing to the internet. However, I have a few gems I'd like to share. Here is one of them.

Don’t ask me to let you go.

I will not do it now.

I will let you go when we’ve lived

this out, this grinding,

future-driven life. I will

let you go when eternity shines

from the tunnel’s light behind us.

I will let you go when I can’t help

but have forgotten who we are.

Don’t ask me before we have watched

the sun set

and the stars break through

black curtains of the night.

Don’t ask me

before the actors bow

and the lights come up for good.

I won’t do it unless

the children are grown;

we’ve taken care of it all.

Don’t ask me to watch you leave

before the end has come.

Music Inspiration (part deux)

Back in '11 (wow that feels weird to say), I posted a list of songs I listened to while writing. I've stopped listening to almost every song on that list in the past year and a half, so I thought I'd make a new one. Partially due to the influence of friends and the fact that 80% of the music I currently listen to comes from my roommate's computer, I walk a fine line between obscure and top 40's. You have been warned...

Die Young - Ke$ha
All Time Low - The Wanted
If You Only Knew the Rain - Balmorhea
Let Me Die - the Classic Crime (and pretty much all of Phoenix, really)
All I Want - Kodaline
Evening Ceremony - Active Child
Sugar, We're Goin Down - Fall Out Boy
Work - Jimmy Eat World
Hurt - Johnny Cash
For Blue Skies - Strays Don't Sleep
Migraine - Twenty One Pilots
More Than a Feeling - Boston
I'm Lost Without You - Blink 182 (and I Miss You, and All The Small Things, but come on duh)
Rushes - Lowercase Noises
The Harold Song - Ke$ha
(actually just everything by Ke$ha)
Oblivion - M83
You and I - Washed Out
You and I - Nero
You and I - Lady Gaga
You and I - Future of Forestry
(okay you can ignore the last two I was on a roll)
Disenchanted - My Chemical Romance (*tear*)
Closer - Kings of Leon
I Write Sins Not Tragedies - Panic! At The Disco
The Unwinding Cable Car - Anberlin
Don't Fear (the Reaper) - Blue Oyster Cult
Holding On To You - Twenty One Pilots
Try - P!nk
Just Give Me a Reason - P!nk & Nate Ruess
Silent Lucidity - Queensryche

BONUS FOREIGNERS:
Je Veux Te Voir - Yelle
Wenn du mich brauchst - Fertig, Los!

Poetry Updates

I've been working over the last few months to build up my poetry files, as I was not happy with the majority of the work I had done so far. Many of the pieces I've written remain unedited, but I think staying consistent with my output has been good.
Here's a small selection of things I have written (again--short and unedited--please don't judge quality) recently, since I haven't had anything to post in a while.

-----

explain to me

how life is so valuable

when it can be taken away for free

-Explain to Me

-----

switchblade, up and out,

don’t pierce my throat.

don’t bleed my mouth.

handle, gripped too tight,

you twist and thrust

in the dark’ning night.

ending, shamed release,

deep inside.

cannot keep.

walk away, you knew you would.

don’t look at me—

don’t think you could.

-The Metaphor

-----

cycle through the waters

your skin’s peeling away

play me another song now

.

paring every head now

such hard and sticky fruit

parts I can’t replace for you

.

less than they could want

tightening rings around the sea

claim it for your own now

.

cycle through the waters

your heart’s fading away

sing me soft to sleep now

don’t let us fall astray

-Oceans (For the Poor In Spirit)

Kill Me Now - Update

I know, I take forever to post stuff. Life's busy--it doesn't mean I'm not working on it. Sometimes it just doesn't come out the right way.
For example, I have been working on the story off and on since the last section I posted. I continued that segment a bit, but I've also been developing the major twists on the timeline in my head. I spent some time this morning figuring out what direction I want to take the story (it's so hard to avoid cliches sometimes, you know?) and I think I have it.
I still have two major characters to introduce. One of them you'll probably be expecting at this point, and the other is one I decided on today. He (I'm pretty sure it will be a he) does not yet have a name, and I won't tell you much about him because that would give away the ending!! Let's just say I think/hope you'll be at least a little shocked. I was, that's for sure. haha.
There's lots of angsty stuff going on in the next portion. I plan on picking through that after I finish because much of it is unnecessary.
Allllll that to say that yes, I am working on it (not that anyone really asks, but I like to assume people who have read it are at least curious) and I'm even working out some of the inconsistencies of the earlier chapters (like when I said first that Corten and Kale met on a bus and later said they met at a cafe). I also have an ending and a direction. I believe that may speed up the process a little, especially once I get out of school.
The only thing is, I would give you more of it today, but the portions I have written are not chronologically matched up with the segments I've already posted. There will be more soon. Promise.
So stay tuned! Story development is on its way!

Kill Me Now - Chapter 5

I don't have much to give you right now, but I've been working on my NaNo novel over the past few days. Almost hit 17k words. Since it's no longer NaNo, however, I'll be using the actual title from now on. This segment is only a little over 3 pages in a Word doc, but it's something.

I have a few ideas floating in my head for twists and major plot points, as well as character development stuff and ways to get to the ending. It will certainly not happen fast, but I believe it will happen. For those reading, I appreciate your interest. Stay tuned for more!

Twenty-two years into Kale Presson’s unaccomplished life, he still had virtually no concept of his place in the world. Meeting his long-lost brother, gaining a tight group of friends, maintaining a regular schedule, and learning the details of his elusive past did not remedy the purposelessness he felt on a somewhat daily basis.—when he wasn’t completely occupied with cleaning up some mess or other left over from a training session, that is.—For almost as long as he knew what he was, he also knew that he was wanted by the devil himself to be his slave for eternity, yet the horrible creature responsible for his every hardship had not made a move nor given hint that he was acting on his desire for Kale’s service.

The scene in the darkroom was more than likely discussed on occasion between the group, but Kale pushed the incident to the back of his mind. There was no pressure on him at the moment to figure anything out or even really think about his destiny, or whatever. Ultimately this lack of pressure irritated the entire group of men—demons—whatever—and left them often to sit on their hands or twiddle their thumbs and simply wait. On one particular Tuesday evening just over two and a half years after Kale’s first conversation with his brother, that is exactly what they were doing. Roth had the day off to recuperate from training the day before, and Blake, Kenton, Enya, and Alexander were in the second meeting room stewing over an intense round of cards. The game was foreign to Kale, as they were using one of Enya’s sets, and anyway the atmosphere did nothing to calm Kale’s stirring mind. Corten had enough with the meeting rooms weeks ago, what with all the hours he spent there trying to figure out what the next move should be or how far Kale was in his development. So the two sat in the hallway with their legs stretched out. Silence comfortably floated by as they analyzed chips of paint and did everything they could to keep distracted from the not-so-looming end of peace.

“I don’t like my last name.” Kale murmured.

“Well, what do you want to do about that?”

“We’re brothers. By blood.”

“That we are.” Corten hid his smile as he thought about what was coming. He wondered why it had taken Kale so long to think of it.

“I want to use your last name.”

“It is on your birth certificate. Feel free.”

He stopped. Kale shifted and recrossed his ankles.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“What is it?”

“Oh,” Corten pretended with a smile. “Delaire is my name.”

Kale sat back and looked to the crown molding, not noticing any detail in particular. “Kale Rietan Delaire. That sounds so much better than Presson. Too many N’s.”

“I’m glad you think so. That’s how it was meant to sound.” They both took a breath, knowing the other had something to say. Kale forfeited his comment, and Corten continued, “You were always meant to do this. I don’t know how I know. Maybe it comes from how we met. Like the whole thing was planned out somehow.”

“How we met? What do you mean?”

“It was just so random. I wasn’t intending to even venture outside that day. It was only by complete stupidity I did. We were never supposed to come across each other. I was supposed to be somewhere else that day. It was all a mistake and—“

“Maybe it wasn’t.” Kale rose to his feet, looking down at Corten from hunched shoulders and a crooked neck. “I mean, let’s look at all this, how much good has come from it. You can’t sit there and tell me it would have been better if I’d gone on having nothing.”

“You had so much. You had a future, and mon—“

“I had nothing, Cort. Absolutely nothing worth my time. Why do you think I stuck around so easily? Why do you think I want to use your last name? I’ve never belonged to anythi—”

“That’s not true!”

“DON’T interrupt me. Gosh. I just need to belong to something. Just once. To know what it’s like. Don’t you DARE tell me it was a mistake. ”

Kale walked down the hall and around the corner, storming through the darkroom into the one that housed the boys’ card game. There was no game going on at the moment, it seemed like everyone was just sitting with their hands in their laps and eyes boring into the table. Cards were scattered everywhere. Kale made his way to the other side of the table and brushed some of them off a chair before joining the group in what seemed like a mutual agreement not to ask questions.

Corten was not far behind. It only took a minute after Kale sat down for him to enter, much more collected than either had been in the hallway, and stand leaning against the wall, like he seemed to enjoy doing so often. Not one of the men lifted their eyes from the table, nor did they move a muscle to acknowledge Corten’s presence.

After a seemingly endless stretch of stillness, Corten slid down the wall, arms crossed, and sat with his eyes closed and back to the wall. Blake took this as his cue to continue the argument that must have taken place before.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” The accusation was directed toward Alexander, but he did not acknowledge being spoken to. “This is Kale’s thing. Saving the world. I don’t understand why you expect me to have some hand in it. The whole idea is absurd.”

Finally, everyone’s heads lifted a few inches and stared at Blake, offended, as if he’d committed a felony in front of their eyes. Alexander merely looked angry.

“You must be a part of it. This is all of our responsibility. Kale is our responsibility—has been ever since we offered him a place here and promised to teach him what he should have learned a long time ago. We are all a part. It would only take one of us backing out for everything to fall apart.” Alex rose and leaned forward on his hands, somehow towering with his smaller frame over the table. “Are you going to be that person?”

Blake’s gaze returned to the grain of the wood below Alexander’s looming form.

“I would not dream of failing you, Master.”

Kale flinched at the way Blake addressed Alex. Sure, he had assumed the blond demon was some unspoken leader, probably because of his natural proclivity for organization and holding command over a room. But “Master”? Where had that come from? Blake had even dropped his head with the statement, like a bow. It was obvious everyone in the group was in some way used to this manner of speaking except Kale. Perhaps it was something left over from their past that they’d not though to tell Kale. Mustn’t have been important.

But the way Alexander looked down at Blake now . . . over his nose, lips pulled tightly into a line. Disapproval. Blake did something. Blake screwed up. Big time. They worked together fine; they had to; they’d done it for years. But Alex never got over whatever it was. The bitterness lay heavy over the room as Alex briefly rest his hand on Blake’s head, and left the room without a word.

“Okay, so what the hell was that?” Kale glanced uneasily around the room, trying to gather the answers from his friends’ faces. Still no one moved, with the exception of Blake, whose eyes widened but did not blink even as his body shook with built up regret and fear. Engulfed in the sight of Blake’s breakdown, Kale started when he heard a voice at his side. Alexander had returned holding a small, white, plastic cup of something, which he promptly handed to Blake, who grasped it loosely, flinching away when one finger accidentally brushed Alexander’s. The blond leader was not phased, rather looked down at him fondly and with sadness. He did not turn away as he spoke.

“Blake was my slave, in hell. We were both redeemed later on, after accumulating some reputation, though of course two very different statuses.” He turned to Kale as Blake slowly sipped at the liquid. “He was, in whatever sense possible, a favorite of mine, like a pet. I spoiled him, but only enough to keep him alive and with me. After I got out, my ‘toy’ became my friend. I lamented my loss for a long while, then realized I could do something. I got him out. I essentially bribed a friend of mine… Anyway.” He paused and glanced down. “He is… Blake is mine. It’s been many years, and we’ve had our troubles. But he will always be my friend. There is no mistake that can change that.”

The last statement had been directed to Blake. Forgiveness, and perhaps an apology, for all those years that went by in hell before Alex thought to rescue his once-slave. Blake set down the cup and smiled. Alex patted him once more before leaving the room. He didn’t come back like the last time, but everything seemed to be resolved anyway. What kind of magic, demonic serum had Alex fed Blake to calm him down so much?

“Hey, what was in that cup?” Kale saw no harm in asking.

“Water. Why?” Blake gave him a questioning look, and Kale laughed.

“Never mind.” So much for demonic serum.