Silence is priceless.

I've been try to weave a tent of words to hide in... but the softest wind topples it to the ground.
Why can I never be alone? Their abrasive voices always find me.
I would so love to be alone...
Because when people are nearby making noise, I am reminded of their presence.
Even if it's just a sniffing or a rustling... it ties me to the real world.
The sounds they make are ropes, binding me to the things I want to escape.
Silence is much more precious than gold.
Silence is priceless.
I wish people would stop referring to silences as awkward.
Why can't we embrace the quiet?

If I have to fill my silence it will be with the sounds of my favourite musicians.

I've been listening to the girl with the lemonade voice again. The songs from the days when it was just her and a guitar and a boy and a guitar.
I've missed them.
I've been missing the place they sing about.
And I don't even know where it is...

Ah, my lovelies. This past week there has been an inexplicable sadness trailing behind me. It's nothing serious - I hope it is just the winter settling in my ventricles. But I am unable to concentrate. Probably why I have been endeavouring to find silence; in hopes it will give me what I can't hold.
So, I've been holing up in my room, re-reading books like Miss Bishop and I Capture the Castle. And listening to The Finches, remembering summer days swinging in the backyard with my ipod. Back when sunlight barely pierced the canopy of leaves.
I have felt rather absurd in my quest for quiet and solitude. Indeed, it has wreaked havoc on my affability. But still... I desire it more than anything at the moment.

I am curious... what do you, my dearest readers, want at this moment?

{Both pictures were taken by me. I messed with the contrast on the first one. It kind of looks like I have red hair. I don't really, the light was shining on my hair and I have [natural!] red highlights.}

not-so-super sleuth

You are an enigma.
Almost incongruous to your setting... yet you belong so wholly.

Against my better sensibility, I succumbed to your mystery.
Could you leave some clues that tell me who, what, why?
Because your footprints don't leave a trail strong enough to follow.

I should have you arrested!
The crime: breaking and entering my thoughts on too many occasions.
{You have the right to... tell me everything about yourself.
Anything you say can and will... be stored forever in my mind.}

But I fear this case will never be closed.
I am no Miss Marple; I am no Adrian Monk!
Indeed, I am little more than a thief....
For, given the opportunity, I would (without hesitation)
steal your heart away.

{Why nooo... this wasn't inspired by anyone. ;)}

{Picture found here.}

Dangling My Legs Off the Moon

I am going to do something radical today.
Something that I may regret.

....Are you ready? ;)

Okay. Last summer I wrote a poem-of-sorts that I call "Dangling My Legs Off the Moon". I wrote it after going to one of the Planetarium shows at the Creation Museum in KY.
I have always been rather creeped out by outer space but this show was just so amazing. It took you on an in depth tour through the solar system and... wow. It was absolutely incredible. (It definitely served as a reminder of how small we are and how big God is!) The show was also very calming and it made me feel that I was sitting on the moon and observing the galaxy. (Hence the poem.)

And now for the part I may regret...
I turned my poem (Dangling My Legs Off the Moon) into a song. I've only written a handful of songs though I've improvised many instrumental pieces on the piano. But I forget them as soon as the last note dies away. (A fact which causes me more than a little bit of sorrow.)
Sometimes, though, I will take one of my poems and sit down at the piano with a blank piece of sheet music and a pencil expressly with the purpose of writing a song. One song can take months though, since I'm only comfortable doing it when I am home alone which rarely happens these days.

I have been debating for quite some time whether or not to post this song. I vacillated, arguing that "no one wants to hear my stupid little song" and "couldn't I just post the poem without the recording?"
"No," I chided myself, "the poem and the melody now belong together and you cannot separate them."
So, today I am finally throwing caution to the winds and posting it. I may be filled with regret since I have grave insecurities about the whole thing... but if I do not post my little song, which I am rather fond of, it will languish on my hard drive. What a terrible fate!


But first I must apologize for all the things wrong with the recording.
1. The sound isn't great. I use a microphone that's in my laptop and I just place the laptop on top of the piano. So it's very poor sound quality, to say the least.
2. My vocals aren't great either (not to mention my enunciation!). Sitting down isn't the best position to sing from. And while I no longer cringe when I hear my voice in recordings I find no beauty in it so, yeah....
3. In the second to last stanza I sing the word "And" when it should have been the word "But". (I can't even get my own lyrics right! Sheesh! :P) I make other mistakes as well, in my piano playing but I won't go into those right now.

Alright... enough self-deprecation. Here we go.




Dangling my legs off the side of the moon
I am dangling my legs off the side…

I've never known a silence as quiet as this
I've never known such misty intensity

Against a purple velvet sky stars group together
In sequined clusters twinkling, twinkling
They’re not so little as we sing

I’m infinitely small
In these galactic realms
And I don’t feel hollow or alone
As I thought I would

Lighthearted and free
I sit and I swing
My dangling legs off the moon




{Aren't nebulae so stunning? I realized that's what I was describing in the 2nd and 3rd stanza of my poem.}



{Picture found here.}

The Icicle

I always feel fragile when I lie in the snow. I get so cold but I love it in a strange sort of way. Sometimes I pretend I am an icicle. I lay there and can feel how transient I am. I taper down to a gentle point; I glisten in the sun. I do not feel threatened by the few drips that slide down me every now and then. I am here for the winter; that is all that matters.

He came across me when I was thus supinely and silently reveling in the snow and dreaming my frozen thoughts. I shot straight upright when I noticed him. He looked confused for a few seconds, then his lips creased into a smile. A knowing smile. As if he knew what had been doing, lying there. I nervously tucked some hair behind my ear. It was caked with snow and some of it dropped back to the ground. He looked as if he was about to say something but I panicked. I turned and ran.

Oh, how silly I am. In my heart of hearts, I am just a woodland creature who can’t understand that all humans do not wish to mistreat me.
Finally, when I had retreated far into the forest, I collapsed in the snow and lay there for a while. But I didn't pretend to be an icicle anymore. Do you know why? For when he looked at me with that smile on his face... I melted.

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

This is an excerpt from a book I am writing. The book is made up of two parts. One part is about a introverted girl who lives for trips to the library and becomes infatuated with one of the librarians. (I admit, it is ridiculously autobiographical.) In the book, the girl is writing a story about a girl who lives in a forest. The chapters about the girl in the forest are interspersed throughout the book and they vaguely tie in with the story of the girl who is "writing them". I am doing a horrible job explaining... It sounds rather stupid and I'm not even sure how well it will work. But I enjoy writing it and I s'pose that's all that matters. :)

(And I'd like to thank you all again for your kind responses to my last post. So far, I am feeling very well. I love you all and you mean the world to me!)

{Picture found here.}