Wednesday, January 30, 2013

An embellishment on a previous thought.

If we had faced the ticking clock,
it would have been better.
You and I, instead, were cut
like an umbilical cord--
a snap, a wail,
an abhorrent new life,
an end to us as one.

--Emily



currently listening to:  The Poison by The All-American Rejects

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Enough to make me smile.

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This is a sequence of photographs I took over Thanksgiving Break (I know, it was forever ago, and I still haven't posted all of the photos) of Dad playing with Romeo.

It just makes me so happy whenever I look at them. They're the men of the house, and I love them both.

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"Shake"
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"Roll Over"
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"Sit Pretty"
~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope everyone is enjoying this lovely weekend. Most of my friends left, so I have been in my room crammed behind books, writing in my journal, and having very lengthy phonecalls/text chats/Skype conversations with my family and Deacon back home.

It's been pleasant.

That's one thing about me--I'm not afraid of alone-time. In fact, I crave it. I loved being able to finish Half-Blood Prince last night, finish my assigned reading from the Prose Edda today, and I plan on finishing Henry James' The Turn of the Screw by Monday (or, if things go well, by tonight).

I feel like I will only be granted this free time for only a short fragment of my life, so I best take advantage of it.

I do kind of wish I had gone home, though. I miss everyone.
But I have my blinds open now so I can see the woods outside, and if I stare at them for long enough, I can almost convince myself that I'm staring outside my window at home, looking into the woods behind my house.

--Emily

P.S. I had to draw a floor plan of my house for Spanish and I think it came out much better than when I had to drawn one in high school.



currently listening to:  Boy on the Moon by the Daylights

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Scribbles

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I found these just now in my notebook from earlier in the month:

I have a poem in me somewhere,
but I think it is better to let silence be silence
than to expose the event for literary benefit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are scars across my memory
that have not healed. Their stubbornness
is quite a show. And sometimes the words
break their stitches and the pain from the past
resurfaces.

--Emily

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

The Hospital

We've met a few times, but always in passing;
in fact, I daresay you know most the population by passing.
One comes to you not as a guest or party-attender,
nor for just a talk or tea,
but as a hostage, or temporary ward.
It's hardly ever planned, of course--the coming and going.
Most people have to squeeze you in to their
wristwatches and schedules
with great urgency and unexpected detours.
Though in a larger sense, you are where
their lives both begin and end,
and everything they do in between those plotted points
are mere extracurricular activities.

Upon our last meeting, I was enlightened again
of your less-than-desirable interior.
Your servants took my blood,
they took my clothes,
and stuck me in a small, white room
that resembled too closely a prison cell.
Everything was sanitized and sterilized,
and made me feel uninvited and foreign.
No one says much of anything there, and "hmms"
from the superiors could mean any number of things,
and when I heard a noise like a crow
sitting on a power line, cawing its siren to the
surrounding sparrows, my thoughts swarmed.

Your walls are a torture chamber, I thought in that moment.
The siren wailed for at least an hour;
I have never met a bird with such ample lungs.
A glass door and a curtain separated me
from your other servants--I could see but their feet--
though for a long time none of them walked towards me,
and when they did, they insisted upon
taking my dignity on top of it all.
I tried to convince myself it was like my birthday all over again,
and it was over in a few moments. Afterwards,
they scribbled something on paper for me,
gave me my clothes back, and abruptly sent me
away from you, until our next unannounced affair.

--Emily

Friday, January 18, 2013

Audiences, Opinions, and Kevin

You have to have an audience, he said.
I disagree.
Why should my words require the tracks
of a dozen eyeballs scanning each line,
gnawing their meat from the bone?

--Emily



P.S. Update on Kevin: he returned, was taken to the vet, has a respiratory infection, but is going to be okay.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Forgive me for coming off as a narcissist.

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I always feel like a narcissist when I have posts like these, but during Christmas Break one of my friends made a comment about how I haven't been taking/posting a lot of pictures lately. And I really haven't put up self-portraits in awhile.

But really, I feel I'm too old to still be taking photos of myself.

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It did give me some practice in Lightroom, though, so it was somewhat beneficial.

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JPEGS

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I wish I had more to say, but I don't, except that back home my cat Kevin is sick and when they tried to put him into the car to take him to the vet yesterday, he got loose and ran off. So please pray that he returns soon, otherwise I'm not sure what will happen to him.

And I really don't want to lose another cat.

--Emily

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Invest

I know we'll be 
blessed
and I know that the
rest
will just be a
test
of what we know
best.

--Emily

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Our annual New Year's Eve party that we had on the eve of New Year's Eve.

We're twelve days into 2013. That's almost two weeks, and I've already had a lot of ups and downs.

But overall, I remain hopeful. Because I have people I love. I have Christ.
I have so much to be thankful for.

And I need to keep that in the front of my mind. I need to take it in like oxygen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some pictures from my church's New Year's Eve party:

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Isn't Deacon adorable? 
Why yes, yes he is. =)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I finished Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children today. It was...alright. I think I would have liked it more if I would have read it in middle school. I felt like it took a long time for something to actually happen in the book, but then too much happened in the last half. It could have been better written. The photographs, though. They were really cool.

I watched Shutter Island for the first time last night and felt the same way. It was alright, but not what I had expected. I'm not sure if I liked it. I don't think I did.

BUTOHMYGOODNESSIHAVETOTELLYOU.
My school played Bingo tonight and I won. twice. And since I won twice, I had to put my box of popcorn back, but in turn I got a $25 Amazon gift card. =) I've already spent it on The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath and Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. I've been wanting them for some time, and I finally got the funds to order them. Praise the Lord!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

My blog posts have altered a lot over the past two years, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I feel less creative than I used to be. I try to sit down and write, but nothing comes out. I think this is partly a good thing, because I'm at a comfortable place in my life. And comfortable is boring to write about. I'm in love. And it's wonderful, but it's not something I can write about. 

I'm happy.
But happy doesn't make it easy to write.

But I think that's okay. I mean, no matter where you are in your life, you can feel passionate about something. You can write. The small things in life are the interesting ones, and too often do they get overlooked.

I suppose that's enough rambling for one night.
So long.

--Emily

Thursday, January 10, 2013

A walk to Spanish in the fog.

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When I woke up from my nap today to go to Spanish, the weather had turned around completely and everything was covered in fog. And so I grabbed my camera.

The following is a documentation of my walk to and fro.

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--Emily

P.S. In case you were wondering, "fog" in Spanish is "niebla."