....And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.

i've returned home for the holidays.
its been an experience- relearning everything that i love and hate about here.
i've relearned my love of drawing.
and of staying in my pajamas all day.
and of cuddling under a blanket with a good book and cup of hot chocolate.
and of making fires.
and of random tim horton's hang outs.
and of reconnecting with those i've lost touch with.
i love these things about returning home for the holidays.
i would list the things i hate, but i feel that isn't very christmasy.
and really, how can we recognize that which is amazing and deserving of love without the experience of that which isn't so great and that we hate? this world is made of opposites- and for a reason. without that balance we lose sight of the positives, as without the negatives- they'd just be neutral things.
i hope you're relearning the things you love too.
<3

That Part of You that No One Sees

This was one of those stupid online quiz things that I did over a year ago, and oddly enough- it still fits. I guess some things just don't change?

You are compassionate, caring, and soothing.
You like other people to depend on you...
In fact, you don't feel right unless you are helping someone out.

Underneath it all, you feel the burden of everyone's problems.
Without your guidance, you fear that many people's worlds would fall apart.
You like to feel in charge, even if it brings you a lot of stress.


What's the Part of You That No One Sees?
http://www.blogthings.com/whatsthepartofyouthatnooneseesquiz/

elephants.

I did not write this, nor did I come across it on my own. but i did fall in love with it, which is why it belongs here!

elephants.

"If the elephants have past lives, yet are destined to always remember,
it's no wonder how they scream,
like you and I, they must have some temper.
And I am dreaming of them on the plains, dirtying up their beds,
watching for some kind of rain to cool their hot heads.
And how dare that you send me that card when I'm doing all that I can do.
You are forcing me to remember when all I want is to just forget you.
If the tiger shall protect her young, then tell me how did you slip by.
All my instincts have failed me for once -- I must have somehow slept the whole night.

And I am dreaming of them with their kill, tearing it all apart,
blood dripping from their lips, and teeth sinking in too hard.
And how dare that you say you will call, when you know I need some peace of mind..
If you had to take sides with the animals, won't you do it with one who is kind?

If the hawks in the trees need the dead, if you're living you don't stand a chance.
You can lie there and say you are fed, but there are only two ends to this dance.
You can flee with your wounds just in time, or lie there as he feeds,
watching yourself ripped to shreds and laughing as you bleed.

So for those of you falling in love, keep it kind, keep it good, keep it right.
Throw yourself in the midst of danger, but keep one eye open at night. "

- Rachael Yamagata, "Elephants."

unsettled

i hate this
this utter lack of control
dreaming of reality
unsettled
like everything
and nothing
is right with life
unsure
can't quite pin point
the cause
don't know the effect
unable to grasp
slipping through my fingers
constant change
continually moving
continually static
unsettled

reaching for stardust....

i keep coming back here and staring at the screen hoping to be inspired to write something.
but its not working.
lame.

Where is the love?

Definitely fallen completely off this whole idea of posting my work, i tend to be more a paper and pen kinda girl-- and even lately that hasn't really been striking my fancy... well not anything that i want to share with the world anyway. Not saying that i don't appreciate my loyal readers (who i know, i've neglected to give something to read to) but somethings just aren't meant for any further than my notebook... That being said, i still feel pretty wretched about just walking away from this whole blog (especially since I've made it so pretty now!!)but i just can't bring myself to type anything out (plus, i' m kinda at work and my stuff is at home... whoops). so you'll just have to settle for my random ramblings for the time being and maybe someday in the not so distant future i'll write something of some substance. maybe. maybe not.
anyways- i'm really excited: COLDPLAY CONCERT!! so soon! Crazy excited.
AND then i'm headed to GUYANA!!! seriously can't wait.... ah. and then ISW! and then back to school... where did the summer go??
xox

falling is like this....

so you might say ì've fallen into the terrible habit of Utahraptor in terms of updating.... horrid, i know. i apologize, things have just been crazyyyyyy as of late. serious crazy. too much work and drama. psh lame, i know. i don't have anything to update with at this exact moment, but hopefully i'll be able to update soon!
peace.

Short Moments

With each turn of the globe,

Time passes.

In those short moments, we can miss:

A lifetime of fear,

Or a waterfall of tears.

In those short moments, we can neglect:

To see a radiant smiles,

Or to give comforting hugs.

In those short moments, people learn:

To accept the things they cannot control,

Or that the tears they find streaming down their cheeks are beyond their control.

In those short moments, we can find ourselves:

Alone, lonely in a room full of people,

Or looking to turn to someone but finding no one there.

In those short moments, we can discover:

The good that still exists in other people,

Or the terrifying reality that not everyone is as good as we want them to be.

In those short moments, we can try:

Try in vain to change the unchangeable,

Or try to learn that sometimes the unchangeable is meant to be that way.

In those short moments, we can choose:

Choose to learn to laugh in hard times;

Choose to smile when it seems impossible;

Choose to hug when others would turn their backs;

Choose to embrace the moments life hands us;

Choose to live in the moment—

Because time passes all too quickly

And the globe will continue to turn.

Hope?

It’s back.

Is there any hope?

Even when you think nothing else in life can go wrong,

Yet another ugly beast rears its head.

Two days.

More tests.

Will my world fall apart?

Is it possible that another person in my life

Is destined to die?

Cancer.

Cat Scans.

Chemo.

Didn’t we just go through this?

Just when you think the worst is over . . .

IT JUST COMES BACK.

Radiation.

Surgery.

Serious.

Too much.

Can’t think of what the results will be.

What does fate hold?

Faith.

Strength.

Trust.

One can only hope that it will be okay.

Another rough patch to overcome.

Have hope.

If nothing else,

Have HOPE.

RE: ENGL 3850

Dear Lesa,

Not all the students who submit portfolios are given admission into
ENGL 3850 (Studies in creative writing). I'm sorry to inform you that
you have not been admitted to the course. Please choose a different
course as soon as possible, and register in it online. If you would like
to discuss the matter further, please contact me at gjohnston@trentu.ca
.

Gordon Johnston

Any further words needed? I think not.

How do you say what's in your heart?

How do you say what’s in your heart?
Should you splatter canvas with your paint?
Or paint all night ‘til the fumes make you faint?
How do you say what’s in your heart?
Should you open your mind to let the words flow?
Letting the world see what you're afraid to show?
How do you say what’s in your heart?
Should you sing your song for the world to hear?
Just this once, releasing your fear?
How do you say what’s in your heart?
By letting your words fill the page;
(set your pen to paper)
Drenching the canvas;
(set your brush to paint it)
Overwhelm the silence;
(set your voice to the air).
For once, don't hold back.
Let your heart have its say.
How do you say what’s in your heart?
You follow it.

what can i say?

what can i say to the boy who hides behind fraudulent words?
to the boy who acts like he's thought it through
and knows exactly what he wants.
to the boy who pretends to know what he's doing--
when i can clearly see the faults in his plans.
to the boy who thinks he knows all the answers,
when he truly has no idea what the question is.
what can i say to the boy who despite all logic,
still holds my heart.
to the boy who makes me want to be the person
i'm not yet, but could be... someday... maybe.
to the boy who makes me laugh and scream,
cry and smile all at once.
to the boy who makes me hate and love him
in the same breath.
what can i say to the boy
who constantly confuses me to no end;
to the boy who seems to know every word i want to say--
despite the fact i don't even know the words.
what can i say when the words don't seem to capture any real meaning at all.

ugh

so its definitely been awhile since i posted, and i'm not positive you'll count this as a post, but whatev. i've been pretty busy/at home in hickville for a couple days, so that's my excuse? ah ha. just working too much, and trying to compile this portfolio thing for next week... i'm "working" right now and SO SO SO SO SO SO looking forward to the end of my shift where i'll get to see two of my all time favourite people! 50 minutes and counting.
peace out.

Do I Dare?

Creative Writing

ENGL 3850 – Studies in creative writing - To be offered 2008 -2009
The course provides students with practical knowledge of different genres of literature and extends their creative writing skills and their ability to respond to literary works.

NOTE: C- (60%) or higher in ENGL 1000 is a prerequisite for all upper year English courses. In addition, admission to Creative Writing courses requires submission and review of a portfolio of student's writing.

Admission procedures
Students are chosen for admission to creative writing courses by review of portfolios of their writing. As with all senior English courses, applicants must have completed English 1000 with a grade of C- (60%) or higher. Students seeking admission must also submit a portfolio of 8 – 10 pages of creative writing (that is, not academic essays), including at least one item in both draft and revised form. The revision should be substantial; that is, it should include some rephrasing and possibly restructuring of the original draft. All the revisions should be clearly indicated, either in Track Changes or by hand (for instance, with words crossed out and/or rewording inserted) on the printed page. The work submitted may be in any literary genre or genres (not limited to the four genres being studied in the course), and should demonstrate the range of creative abilities and interests of the applicant.

Applicants must also provide a covering letter for the portfolio in which they describe the kind of writing they have been doing, how long they have been writing, their reading experience and preferences, and what they hope to accomplish through this course. They should make sure they include in the covering letter an email address and/or telephone number at which they can be reached after the end of term. Late and incomplete submissions will not be considered.

The portfolio and covering letter must be submitted before 4:00 pm on Friday May 23, 2008, in hard copy to the English Department Office (Wallis Hall 134), addressed to Paulette Nichols, Traill College, Trent University. Electronic submissions will not be accepted. Applicants will be notified if they have been accepted into the course by May 30, so they can register online. Students should not put their names on the course waitlist unless they have been accepted into the course.

ENGL 4850/4851H - Advance Seminar in Creative Writing- To be offered in 2009-2010

Perquisite: 4 credits in English, including ENGL 2000 (205); a cumulative average of B- (70%) or higher in all courses taken. In addition, students submit a portfolio of their work. Excludes ENGL 375. Students may take only one of ENGL 4850 or 4851H for credit.

Thoughts? Suggestions? Help??

challenges

you'd think that the hardest part would be pulling out a piece of paper;
pushing the power on button on the computer;
picking up the phone.
yet, these simple actions seem more than impossible to make.
i can't seem to find the perfect paper to frame the words i want to write.
much less the right pen to document them with.
and despite the fact words generally come as easily to me as breathing does,
for you- i cannot seem to find any.
i could sit and scour the dictionary in hopes of stumbling across the ones i want,
the ones i need,
yet i don't bother.
i don't bother to look for the words,
for the paper,
for the pen,
for the phone which has vanished from my sight.
what does that say for how i feel about you?
is my lack of effort a reflection of how i truly feel?
or is it just the opposite?
am i so afraid of what i truly feel?
do i refuse to put myself in a position of being vulnerable?
would i rather push away from anything and everything that i know is real and true?

not my writing, but i <3 it anyways!

So, anyone who knows me well is well aware of my complete and utter addiction to tea, all kinds of tea. Lately i've been expanding my collection- some of my newest are (i haven't even tried all these yet!!): White Tea Island Mango and Peach, Vanilla Hazelnut, Almond Sunset (this isn't new, its rediscovered), Vanilla Ginger Green Tea and Chocolate Caramel Enchantment.

With a lot of these teas come quotes, one of my favourites that I found is:

"To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe."
--Anatole France

Good thought for the day no?

oblivion

let me melt into oblivion.
pretend i'm not here--
it already seems like that.

you don't see me.
and yet,
i still want to make it seem
as if i'm invisible.

i want to fade into the backdrop,
be forgotten.

you don't see me
until the last minute,
question is:
will i still be there,
or will you have looked too late?

let me

let me paint the world;
i'll show you what i really see.
let me portray my reality;
i'll show you what you don't seem to see.
let me paint my imagination;
i'll show you what in my dreams i see.


ugh, so its not done.... but there might be something there?
i dunno.... we'll see...

my way

sometimes i can't find my way,
i just want to scream, but instead i pray.
put my life into the hands of 'god'
hope that someday my heart will have thawed.
pretend to smile,
when it seems so futile.

simply slowly slipping into oblivion,
don't want to be like you- existing on bottles of gin.
look at the sea of faces,
absorbed with their iPod cases.
too busy to bother with me,
too stunned to truly see.

smile, laugh, cry
patiently wait for this feeling to die.
don't know where to head,
so i'll just stay here instead.
i'll live inside my mind,
hope that my way, someday, i'll find.

simple things

sunshine, butterflies,
and ice cream.
crisp leaves, cool breezes,
and pumpkin pie.
snow flakes, wool mittens,
and hot chocolate.
new flowers, squishy mud,
and lemonade.
will life ever return
to the point when
all i need is these simple things
to make me smile?

that's me.

see that girl carefully perched on a fence?
that's me.
see that girl with tears streaming down her face?
that's me.
see that girl who is caught up in a thousand different things,
being pulled in a thousand different directions?
that's me.
see that girl who feels like her heart is being ripped
directly in half?
that's me.
see that girl who sits, patiently, just listening?
that's me.
see that girl who feels like she's lost her voice?
that's me.
now why is it i dream of being anyone except me?

sometimes

sunlight spills through the open window;
dust and dog hair swirl around the air.
enchantment conjured by the ordinary.
you sit there, amidst it all,
immersed in another novel
unaware of the world around you.
slowly, the sun is setting,
yet- you still sit there.
oblivious to the
orange
pink
yellow
and red
which now streak their way across the sky.
but now, the novel is not what captivates your attention.
the novel is set down and you sit there
and you quietly cry,
tears streaking silent paths across your cheeks.
you know not that i watch you
and i restrain the urge to run and hug you—
because
sometimes,
sometimes the tears just need to fall
and sometimes,
sometimes you need to be alone.
but just sometimes.

if i could

if i could see the world
through someone else's eyes
would i see
the sky as being more blue?
the grass as being more green?
smiles as being more true?
would i remember
more sunshine than rain?
more warm breezes than hurricanes?
more hugs than tears?
or would it seem the same?

seasons of winds

a cool breeze
admist fluttering keaves
warm sun light
marks the transition from night
from here, i see
warm smiles surrounded by trees

with hurricane speed
the wind blows away vulnerable seeds
cold rain
marks my skin, but does not stain
from here, i see
sad eyes surrounded by trees

a northwind blows
causing trees to shiver as it goes
cloudy skies
cast shadows, hiding lies
from here, i see
cold glares surrounded by trees

a warm breeze
taunts the flying bumble bees
warm sun
marks that winter is done
from here, i see
happy eyes surrounded by trees

silence

i see you sitting there.
you smile at me,
yet i hardly know you.
you try to say something,
yet you cannot speak.
i can talk,
yet i have nothing to say to you.

they say i'm like you,
yet i see no similarities.
you are surrounded by people who say they love you,
yet you pushed them away for your entire life.
maybe that is a similarity.
we both build walls against people-
rather than building bridges to let them in.

i see you sitting there.
you smile at me,
yet i hardly know you.
you try to say something,
yet you cannot speak.
i can talk,
yet i cannot find the words to say to you.

yet as i see you sit there,
i feel compelled to love you
to build a connection
there is so much i want to know about you
yet now, when you choose to allow us near
it is too late for us to hear.

i see you sitting there.
you smile at me,
yet i hardly know you.
you try to say something,
yet you cannot speak.
i can talk,
yet i cannot find my voice to speak to you.

you try to speak.
yet cannot.
not because there is no one to listen;
not because you have nothing to say;
not because you don't care
but rather because through out your life
as you pushed us away,
a tumor grew inside your head.
so today, as you sit there slowly dying,
it silences you when you most want to speak.
to speak to make up for the years of silence you gave us.

i see you sitting there.
you smile at me,
yet i hardly know you.
you try to say something,
yet you cannot speak.
i can talk,
yet i don't know what to say to you.

i see you sitting there
yet i know this image cannot last
your silence is slowly killing you
taking away someone i did not get to know

who knew silence could be so deadly?

**i wrote this about a year after my father's mother passed away. we weren't close- i barely knew her. sometimes families can have complex relationships, and this is one of them. despite not being overly close through out my life, i cannot deny the impact her death has made on my life, and the choices i make. you don't get second chances. remember that**

Soft Smiles

soft smiles

soft smiles aimed at an unknown face
this world spins so fast, it's hard to keep pace
a blink of the eye can seem like eternity.
you laugh, you cry, you smile, you die.
all in the blink of an eye.

soft smiles aimed at someone other than me
yet, i'm still here. does anyone notice?
you're still pretending like what you're doing makes a difference...
why don't you make a difference in my life, and notice me?

soft smiles aimed nowhere...
you look and recollect, but do you care where they are now?
yet we still take the time to pose for pictures,
soft smiles aimed...

soft smiles aimed at lense,
sums up a person with a shutter and flash.
soft smiles we see, and we can pretend like we cared;
pretend like we made a difference.
but the question really is: did we?

i don't blog.

no really, blogging just isn't my thing. it seems to be a large part of several of the new people in my life that i love, but its just not for me. not saying that someday it might not become part of it, but currently, i'll stick to my pen to paper paper method in a bound book. besides, if i gave up on journalling completely, what would my birthday, christmas, and random gifts consist of? (i have always received a journal as a gift on these occasions...always.)

but seeing as i'm not a blogger, you're probably wondering what this all is....

i used to write.

well, scribble.

in high school, in my super twelve/ victory lap of school, i took a class called writers craft. looking back at super twelve and all that year was and wasn't and could have been but wasn't, i can recall the constant wondering "why am i here"? why did i chose to remain behind? i was ready for all 'this', so why didn't i leave after graduation? it is my firm belief that writers craft is the reason behind my grade thirteen experience. without the guidance of that extremely amazing and loving teacher, i would not be who i am today. she nutured our class into a family, and despite how different were all were and all still are, we have that common link.

the spontaneous writing time in that class defined me as a writer. when the lights were dimmed and her music playing, magic happened. it didn't matter what in the world was going on, that room was safe. safe to confess deep secrets, to share the most intimate reaches of our mind, to pour our souls onto the page. i miss it. intensely. there are somedays here that i would give anything to return to that class room, if even only for an hour. but, the past is in the past. unfortunately there is no returning and we're supposed to grow from this point.

i haven't been writing much lately other than school assignments, but i'm hoping that by going back and sharing some of my past work maybe i'll inspire myself to write again. we'll see how this all works out.