Back In BUSINESS!

Hey y'all!

(www.chickensmoothie.com)

Long time no see, eh?
The reason for lack of posts has come from the fact that I haven't been able to use a computer regularly since I didn't have one (and my school blocks me from using this program), but now I'm back on track with a new computer, which will hopefully not blow up like that last.
But guess what? It's summer, and that means more regular posts anyways!
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
I'm out of school now, but I still have to go to graduation to see my friends look all fancy in their robes, and I probably won't start writing much more that this until next week.
Gotta get my crap/summer assignments together.

(http://learning.blogs.nytimes.com)

But until then have a good whatever you're doing (vacation/summer break/ enjoying winter for all of you living in some places), and I write soon.
(P.S While I was on this hiatus, I LEARNED TO USE THE SHIFT KEY INSTEAD OF ALWAYS USING CAPSLOCK! But of course for that last sentence I used the caps lock button, so...maybe less progress than I thought...oh well. I tried.)

Explosions All Around Me

What's even going on?



This Kid is Alright

If you asked me right now, I'd have no idea.

My weekends are starting to just become whirlwinds of emotions separated by music, people staring into your eyes, frantic and desperate hugs, traveling, unhealthy snacks, and noisy explosions.

Simulated by yours truly, either scaring the crap out of people or making them more confused.

(www.sploid.gizmodo.com)

Yeah.

And while March is usually a bad month for me (I get tired of winter and the delay of spring, of testing, and basically of most people), it's starting out well.

I'm going to be missing more school, but that's okay.

I'll get to travel more, which is okay.

I get to do what I love, which is okay.

And I get to be with the people I love, which is the best.

(www.nbcnews.com)

So maybe life is just one big explosion. Chaotic, out of control, dangerous.

(www.mysdscience.com)

But it the same way exhilarating and frighteningly beautiful.

Ponder that for a bit, okay?

Old Dream Journal Thing

So you know how I mentioned that I've always wanted to record down dreams? Well I forgot that when I was in the 7th grade that I actually did. For like two.
Technically I found half of them when I was cleaning out my room the other day.
SO HERE IT IS! (It was messily written on a piece of graph paper in Spanish I, so I transcribed it for your enjoyment)

4/26/11

I need to remember this dream...

I was in Mrs. Fluck's* class and we were presenting posters on bunnies. Suddenly, a kid came over to me and gave me a card. But I don't know what he looked like, or what the card said (I couldn't remember, but I think I smiled). Then, I was at my house, and I went into a closet. But I heard it lock behind me. So I opened another door in the closet, and I was on a desert island. So I started walking around. Then I saw a girl in a lake, and she had hypothermia. So these trolls kept pouring maple syrup into the lake to warm her up. I kept walking, until I saw a yellow flower. But then, when I looked up close, it had a poison spike. Weird...

Then I found a lady on top of a hill. She was sleeping (or unconscious). For some reason I rolled her down the hill. And that was the end of the dream...(or all I remember).

(www.lucidchan.org)

Yeperdoodles, that's little me. But I almost never have realistic dreams. Also, I don't know if this is true with anyone else, but there isn't really sound in my dreams. When people talk to each other, their mouths move, and I know what they are saying in my head, but no sound comes out. For explosions I again hear the noise in my head, but there isn't any sound in the actual dream. Weird, right?

Well, that's all I got for today. Stay safe with all the know, and if you can, go buy yourself some discounted Valentine's Day candy.

BECAUSE YOU ARE WORTH IT.

(www.gifboom.com)

And don't you forget it.

*This is the actual, legit name of one of my seventh grade teachers. I'm not changing it because a.) I know most of y'all won't believe me and b.) I don't care because I don't mention much else about her.

Photos of Myself

When I was going through my Wreck This Journal, I flipped to the page where you put a picture of you that you don't like and you deface. But as I was thinking about what photo to put there, I realized I don't really love any photos of myself.

(www.flickrhivemind.net)

I could probably count on one hand the number of pictures taken of me recently that I have actually liked.
I usually don't look at pictures that I am in. I will glance at them and smile at everyone else, but then I sort of skip over myself. I know that I'm in it, but I don't really comprehend the whole picture. Maybe this is the reason I don't have a camera except for the crappy one on my phone, and I really don't take selfies (which is basically impossible, again, because of my phone).

(www.fbpause.com)

By now you are probably thinking I have a bad self image or something. And this isn't really true. I accept myself for who I am and enjoy all the things that make me weird or different or stand out. But of course everyone has their own insecurities, so there are things that I worry about a little bit.  But generally I don't worry or think badly about all of the scars I have, or my round face, or my enormous hands. I take it in stride, along with most of the annoying or crappy things that happen on a weekly basis.
 So I guess I attribute the whole photo avoidance thing to something sort of superstition.

(www.centerforinquiry.com)

 

(Okay, not that type of superstition. But that was asking to be put in there. Hehehehe. Well, by the little voice in the back of my mind going, "You know you want to..." Anyways back to what I was saying before.)
While people who know me may not think I'm super superstitious (ha, I liked how that sounded, sorry continue reading), I unconsciously sort of am. I'll read horoscopes for fun, then end up following them, even though I try to convince myself that it's not true at all. When I heard that they were building a second Titanic, I sort of lost my mind and tried to convince a bunch of people to never, ever ride on it because surely they would drown. Naming and creating a replica of a ship that sunk and killed so many people is just a beacon of bad luck and not good ju-ju.

(www.foxnews.com)

So when I see a picture of myself, I feel like I unconsciously feel like there is a little part of my soul or something in those pictures, and that by looking at it I'm giving it over to the photo.
Okay, I actually have no idea what I'm unconsciously thinking (that's why its unconscious) but I'm just trying to give an idea to something I can't really put into words.
Oh well, I tried.
So this was sort of a feelz post, but it felt good to write it down anyways.
But now I want to write something funny to relieve all this tension. Hmmmm...
FLAGELLA!

(www.biologos.org)

Nope that didn't work. Well, I gots to go do some homework and write a speech, so I'll catch you on the other side of the next post my brain decides to vomit out an idea for.
P.S Now I'm listening to Superstition. Thanks Stevie Wonder for working your way into my brain...

Checking Up On You Guys

Hey everyone!
I know I haven't posted something in a few days, so I just wanted to write something in order to see what was going on with you guys.
I had a weird, sort of stressful Saturday, but it ended out okay and I was allowed to breathe a deep sigh of relief. The minute I got home, I just wanted to laugh it off (sort of in a insane person way) and be happy I got through it, and just happy it happened. So I kind of did. Then I read some and went to bed.
Today I'm trying to get at least halfway through a paper that I'm not really enjoying writing. At all. I like the book that it's going to be on, but I also hate that sometimes in school you dissect a book you like to the point where it starts losing the meaning it had to you before. Now you have to factor in all the other information you are "supposed" to know, which seems to be ultimately more important than whatever you thought. And I'm glad that we get to talk about underlying meanings and symbolism and stuff, because I actually find that interesting. But once my friend was talking about how she interpreted a short story we read in class to our teacher, and they told her that was wrong.
And that bothered me because, hey, we all think differently.
Now I get it if she was totally wrong about it, but what she said sounded pretty legitimate and truthful and what could be a meaning of the story. But to just say to her that she was wrong seemed very wrong in itself, especially since the teacher didn't have any back-up information to why she was wrong.
So yeah, I guess this sort of turned into a mini rant, but I'm just really tired and I'm avoiding writing this paper.
Hopefully I'll be able to write more soon!

(www.reddit.com)

RIDING ON A PIG, BABY MONKEY!
Is it sad that I have a button with this on it?
OF COURSE NOT!

Journals

As a kid, I would always start a journal. I would write in it for a couple days, two weeks at best, and then I would forget about it. It'd be too hard to keep up, to think of ideas, to remember everything that happened.
And I sort of feel like this blog could morph into that.
But I'd like to start carrying a journal again, but I feel like I wouldn't know what to put into it.
Jokes?
Names?
Phrases?
Moments?
Ideas like names for my friend's pet turtle?
I really don't know.
If you have a journal, what do you use it for?
And do you recommend a certain size or brand for easiness?
I think I might just pick up a Moleskine.

(www.jamiemunson.com)

What do you think?

Little Seeds

Hey fellow chicos y chicas!
It's good to be back.

(www.happyfind.typepad.com)

I know I've taken a break from writing on Meadow Inferno, but I needed some time to get stuff done and start getting some of the creative juices flowing.
And slowly, it's coming back to me how to write a blog post that I am proud of and is absolutely me.

(www.designbolts.com)

But I probably won't be posting everyday.
It's hard for me to think of ideas, and while I do love the small, tiny, random thought posts that have been coming up recently, I also like the long, random ones with all the pictures and possibly deeper thoughts and the crazy drawings and the poems and pictures I've come to love.

(www.soundonsound.com)

But today, as I was sitting at my computer writing this in my blazer and pajamas I got to thinking about all those little sentences said by somebody else that get lodged in your brain. They could be positive, they could be negative, they could be sort of both. All it takes is that little utterance, that seemingly un-important comment, the last sentence at the end of a book.
And it starts to take root in your mind.

(www.crategeus.com)

Before you know it, it has spread to the outer corners of your consciousness, and becomes something that you start thinking about a little more than you probably should. But the roots keep spreading and spreading and taking more of your mind until it's basically all you start thinking about and you need the answer about what it is really about. So you Google it or you try to drop hints to get somebody to talk more about it. And it doesn't really work.
And it goes away.

(www.bnox.be)

But then later, what seems like hours, months, years, decades in the future, you get the answer.
And you realize that it wasn't that important at all.
Or maybe it was.
YOU SEE GUYS, I MISSED DOING STUFF LIKE THIS!
Now I gotta go find my Nutella. I hid it around here somewhere...

Time

The darkness is always closing in
taking away the hours that I need
to completely succeed
at what I'm doing.
I just need more minutes in a day
more time in any single way
just to say what I have to say
and do what I do.
But this rushing continues
and I see it in the tired bodies of those around me
and in the eyes of those who have had enough.
We're all just waiting for that one moment we can
pause
take a break
breathe in
and close our eyes.
Not worry for an hour
minute
second
anything
about what comes ahead.
And while this day may not be tomorrow,
we hope that it can be the next.

I've Lost My Phone

Again. For the millionth time.
But phone, I want you to know,
I have lost you so many times. In the park, in an auditorium, in my room (where you are probably hiding now), at my friend's house. You have gotten wet, covered in snow, extremely warm, and have fallen out of my pockets onto what seems to be a never ending staircase.
But you have been there for me. You always eventually revive, even if it takes days. You always leave just enough battery to call or text some one that I need to be picked up before your light blinks out. And I know that it is my fault for not knowing where you are, even though I am racking my brains in order to find you.
You are perfect the awkward way you are, and I could never imagine myself with an iPhone.
Seriously, could you see me with an iPhone? That thing would look like it went through the garbage disposal the same hour I got it. It would have stains that wouldn't come off and be cracked beyond repair and have this new IOS seven thingy that people tell me is horrible but I really don't understand.
So if you read this, phone, please come back. Because I need you.
Really, I do.


Hahahaha, I really just wanted to be random and write this. So I did. But I really wonder where my phone is. So please come back.

Little Bird

There is a little bird watching me from the window. A small brown wren, blending perfectly with the surrounding leaves as he flits from branch to branch. He cocks his head to one side and another, and proceeds his journey up the tree. But he returns down every so often. Three branches up, one branch down. He stares at me at eye level, and I wonder if he is trying to think of a way to get in or a way to get me out.
It worked.

Comfort

Striped hoodies
and flannel sheets
good music
snacks
and sweaters
cats
friendship
coffee
and warm brie
dreams
fluffy beanbags
hope
smoky fires
and caramel
feathers
tea
fleece
pillows
hugs
and trust
all floating around and wrapping me in their embrace
and the chill begins melting away.

(www.dreamstime.com)

Hahaha this was sort of a list? But I was cold and thinking of all the things that make you feel all nice and toasty.

Rambling On Since I Didn't Come up with an Idea For A Post

My cat looked like a puffball today. He was sitting in the yard, watching me, eyeing my movements, making sure nothing random happened. He doesn't really like the cold, but was trying to catch the last rays of summer and its warmth, and ended up just rolling around on the ground. My toes skimmed the wet leaves, and I went to my compost pile, where all the bugs had dug as deep as they possibly could to avoid the chill. On the surface of the compost there was a mixture of rotten summer cantaloupe killed by frost, decomposing grass clippings, and corn husks. Nothing special. The tip of my nose was freezing, and goose bumps appeared on my legs where the shorts weren't covering them. I walked around my house, seeing if everything was the same, at least as it was the last fall. The same trees were turning first as always, the colors in different areas their usual patchwork. Everything was returning to what it had been, and I was comforted by both the smell of fall in the air and the familiarity of it all.

Adrenaline

Adrenaline. That feeling that starts behind your eyes and spreads throughout your body, coursing through your limbs and into your stomach, around the highways of your brain, and out through quick breaths and excited words. Keeping you awake to the wee hours of the morning, when not even two macchiato last the four hour drive on the way home. An unseen force pushing you to the limits and behind, and when you finally settle down, you don't even remember why. It's an amazing, primal feeling, a power you can't control but is taking over. And once it takes hold of you, you never want to leave.
Just some writing for today. I got bored and was running out of time and I was hyped up on carbs, so.....YAAY!
I'll write more later.

100th Post

Writing a poem, 'cuz that's what I do.

So many words have come and gone,

ideas thrown into this thing

we call

the world wide web.

Always generating more and more ideas

a giant snowball

tumbling into the future

literally and figuratively.

Do I know where this will take me?

Nope.

But that's okay.

I can deal

with the fact that I have no idea

of what's to come.

And I even,

just a smidge,

like it that way.

WHOOP WHOOP GUYS! I MADE IT TO 100 POSTS!

I really didn't think I was going to get this far, or even continue writing after the first twenty posts, but somehow I did it. AND I ALSO FIGURED OUT THE FOLLOWER BUTTON SO IT WORKS!

It's just a great big day of ponies and rainbows, huh?

(www.bdr-studio.com)

Oh, well. Have a good day, everyone!


Minds

A world of spinning images,

pictures flashing in front of eyes

behind which we'll never know.

We try to peek in

using words and actions

but eyes guard silently

windows to the soul

opening and closing

when the owner deems it

right.

Amazing

something so hard to describe

but we try to scientifically pin it down

for a moment

just to understand,

observe.

Impossible to explain

something we all have

but is un-observable

with the same eyes

that guard and protect.

I'm not really sure I love this, and it didn't really come out how I wanted it to. But I don't mind.

Rushing On

Lashes dip and dive,

scooping up air,

raising upward

as my head tilts back.

A last look over the shoulder,

and I move forward

leaving them and everything else behind.

I don't need what they offer

I only need myself

my hope

my rules

my ingenuity

and everything I am.

I have something

that they never will.

And that is the absoluteness

of being myself.

Again, a distraction from working. I just like writing y'all. Did you like it?

Dark Path

There's a dark path ahead,

and time stands still.

I'm drawn to it

and feel the urge to take a step.

But what happens if I go down this road?

I have no idea where it leads

the people along it

who are they?

The obstacles?

But I see light in the distance.

Hope.

It spells it out between its starry crossings

and then I know

that I can get through.

Closed eyes

deep breath

and I take my first step

on the dark path ahead.

 

This was based on a dream I had. Hope you liked it!

Be Real

Okay, this is going to be a rage post so here it goes.
Something that bothers me are the people who don't act who they are. They go with what the people higher than them like, and end up doing what they do, dressing how they dress, basically try to walk the walk the talk and the talk. And I get it if you are a little confused about who you are. Everyone is a little bit poser sometimes, to paraphrase Hip-Hop of MyMusic.
But when you just copy someone almost exactly because you are afraid of showing your true self, that isn't right. Be a good person. Show your real self to people, and in the end, you'll get more respect as long as you are decent and respectful and don't try to use other people. If you love wearing huge sweaters, and the "cool kids" criticize you for it, why should you sacrifice something you love and is part of you for the opinion of other people? You shouldn't. Keep wearing those sweaters and feeling great. Have confidence. Fake it 'til you make.
Really, all I was trying to say, even though it came out a bit weird, is to be yourself and be proud. And don't copy other people, their outfits, their work, or their ideas. 'Cause that is just plain wrong.
End of story.

(www.arthistory.com)

Portrait of Doña Rosita Morillo. Frida Kahlo.

Little Kid Poems

Remember those poems that you'd make as a kid, where each letter in the chosen word would start a description or adjective about the word? I think my childhood was built partly on them. I decided to do a couple.

Making small sounds
Opening space and ideas
Visions appear as if a dream
Erupting even though untouched.
Memories remain of the place before.
Easily beautiful, yet dangerous
Never seen until after
Terminating the idea that came before.

Creating an amazing taste in my mouth.
Has a variety of flavors and types.
Easily one of my favorite foods.
Envelops the pallet.
Struggles to hide in the fridge.
Eagerly I pull it towards me.

Desperately trying to think of something.
Effortlessly, everything leaves my mind.
Remember something, dang it!
Pause is going to last awhile...

(www.artinthepicture.com)

The Art of Painting. Vermeer.

Poemy Thing

I wonder how long I'll last,
If I'm always looking towards the past,
And as I stare into the setting sun,
I realize all I've done,
Life is too short not to live larger than life,
And only look at the world's strife,
But see the good that's in everything,
The paintings we paint, the songs we sing.
The people we meet who change our lives,
All those meaningful-at-the-time high-fives,
The food we eat, the air we breathe,
Even when our hearts are on our sleeve.
Now run as fast as you can, jump off the ledge,
And don't stop running until you reach the edge.

Guys, I just like rhyming. These are not my best poem skills either. Okay, catch you later.

(www.commons.wikipedia.org)

The White Drake. Joseph Crawhall.