going home

the idea of going home for the holidays always causes me a huge amount of anxiety and stress, and this is a big deal because i am normally a very calm and laid-back person. last night, nick (my boyfriend) asked me why home causes me so much anxiety, and honestly, i didn’t know how to answer him. i spent 18 years of my life there, but now the thought of being there for more than 1 day fills me with dread. 

the more time i’ve spent at college, the less time i’ve wanted to spend at home.

i think it ultimately comes down to the fact that i’ve changed since i left home. i’ve spent three years of my life on my own, and in my mind, going home is a threat to my independence. i love being on my own and deciding how i spend my time. i love staying up late and drinking tea all day long. i love watching movies with nick. i love immersing myself in new shows on Netflix. i love going out with my roommates on the weekends. i love ordering a large pizza at 1 a.m. on a Tuesday night. i love my life here. 

but when i’m home, i feel like i need to hide the person i’ve become. i want to clarify that in no way am i ashamed of who i am or how i spend my time, but there is an unspoken pressure to be the same girl who left three years ago. 

i am not the same person i was when i left

every time i go home, i am confronted with this struggle. but this holiday break, i am going to (try to) overcome it. i hate feeling this way, and although i know none of these thoughts and emotions are logical, they still hold a power over me. before i leave for home, i am going to spend the day praying and reinforcing truth into my illogical heart. wish me luck, and i’ll let you know how things go.

may your holidays be peaceful and full of love and laughter

xo – kylie anne

 

Tagged , , , , , ,

Billie Jean

Billie Jean

doodle by hannah lencheck
photo by me

Tagged , , , ,

night.

the other night i slept with one of my windows open.

///cool autumn air///

Image

that night i cleaned and organized my room.

///where i keep my knowledge///

Image

i slept well and dreamt of uncluttered fall days.

///washed to the edge///

Image

Tagged , , , , , , ,

could you spare some change?

“i’m a flexible person.”

thats what we all like to say about ourselves because it makes us seem like a good person. but when change comes around, how willing are we to let go and be flexible?

my blog used to be named “the persistence of yellow.” i named it after my favorite book of poetry by Monique Duval. if you haven’t read it, i highly recommend it! my mother bought me this book for my birthday, and it has been an inspiration to me ever since.

then, i received an e-mail from none other than Monique Duval! she was politely asking for my blog name. it’s an understandable request, and i knew that the name was rightfully hers. it was a tragically beautiful situation. my favorite poet had emailed me, but i was being asked to give up my blogs name.

“the persistence of yellow” was me. it was a part of who i was. it had become my identity, and for years i had taken that name as my own. a reminder that the good things in life persist. i wasn’t ready to give that up. i wanted to ignore her email. to be completely selfish.

but i couldn’t do that. not when the words she wrote had inspired me so much. i owed it to her. it was the least i could do. she was so sweet.

————————–

so here i am. a new blog. a new name. a new identity.

“a yellow tea cup.”

change is difficult. and sometimes it comes suddenly. it knocks you off your feet and you have to stand back up. keep walking. find a new way of looking at things.

————————–

i’ve found that i can handle change.

i’ll take it with a warm cup of tea and a few deep breaths, please.

Image

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

a new and different sun

“The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.” – Christopher McCandless

ever so often, my body needs to go somewhere else. whether this urge to move is a way of running towards something or running away from something, i’m never sure. new adventures are so enchanting, and while i am content with my place in life, they always seem to offer more.

more people, more food, more bookstores, more sights, more conversations, more streets to explore, more intrigue, more history, more ideas, more culture, more life.

i have always felt a paradox within myself.

on one hand, i see myself traveling the world and never staying in one place for too long. i would always be going on these exciting and meaningful adventures. and i would be happy.

on the other hand, i see myself married and settled in a city. i would be a regular at my favorite food joint and i would work in a job i love. i would find meaning there. and i would be happy.

but i know that i can’t have both of these things. i also know that the desire is not greater for one over the other.

ah but such is life. 

i’m still trying to figure out what i really want from my life. and i assume it will change from time to time. but as of right now, i know i want something new. i am ready for a change and for new experiences. i want that endlessly changing horizon. i thrive on that.

i’ve been thinking about traveling alone. i’ve heard that it is a very enriching experience and i could use some introspection. my aunt told me once that one of the greatest lessons she has learned was to “be my own best friend.” she said that once you can enjoy spending time by yourself, you can experience some really incredible things that wouldn’t have been possible with other people around.

————–

so i apologize if this post has been a little haphazard, but that is how my mind works and operates. stuck in a daydream.

Tagged , , ,

from the sky

i wrote this poem for my creative writing class. the assignment was to write from a different persona. the inspiration for this poem came from one of my previous poems titled “When I Met the Sky in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.”

Image

————————-

I’ve been watching that girl

Since she was a young child

But she doesn’t know me anymore

She would spend endless days

Under my wide blue dome

I knew then that she truly did love me

From above I saw her

Playing tag with her friends.

My clouds shielded her from the harsh sun.

But she soon grew up

Passing more hours indoor

Gone were the days she had spent with me

For some time I turned grey.

I hid behind dark clouds.

Cascades of rain poured out from my eyes.

While I’m up here waiting

For her to turn my way

To see her smiling at me once more

I’ve tried for so long

To make her notice me

I dressed in watercolor sunsets

But she stopped looking up

Affections for others

Still I stretch above, space between space

Tonight will be different

Finally she’ll see me

I’ll put on a show, all stars sizzling

I’ll wear my darkest dress

My favorite, sparkly one

Her gaze will be drawn to my grand form.

Through trees, I see her now

Suddenly, it happened

She looked up at me, a smile formed

For the first time in years

Both aware of the other

We stayed that way, silently staring

Tagged , , , ,

a sunday evening

some days you never slow down. other days you’re only speed is slow.

some people never stop doing things. other people never do anything.

labor versus leisure.

i’ve learned to enjoy both.

each day can’t be the perfect combination of both,

but each day can be appreciated for what it gives.

——————————————————————-

tonight i am studying for an exam, reading poetry, painting my nails black (not making a statement), listening to Puccini, drinking peppermint tea, and admiring light.

i like sunday evenings.

they are a mix of getting ready for the week ahead

and hanging on to the abeyant weekend.

“He who binds to himself a joy

Does the winged life destroy;

But he who kisses the joy as it flies

Lives in Eternity’s sun rise.”

- William Blake

Image

Tagged , , , ,

When I Met The Sky In The Sangre de Cristo Mountains

Image

*This picture was taken in Estes Park – Not The Sangres.

When I Met The Sky In The Sangre de Cristo Mountains

From dawn to dusk we climbed

Higher, higher until we reached the mountain’s summit.

From the narrow path emerged a clearing, the fluted winds keeping perfect time.

Hastily we constructed our fireside nest, behind the clouds the sun plummeted.

After the day’s toils, we welcomed the rest.

The eyelids of night closed upon my kin and I.

I was comfortably numb. Looking down at the ground,

At the broken leaves, a kaleidoscope of fire sprinkled on the gravel.

Things would’ve been all right if I had continued to look down, but I looked up.

A starlight steeple shone numinously above my crown. The trees

Encompassed our camp, a frame for the sky’s reining triumph.

Pinpricks of light piercing through the black canvas.

Canvasing the great sight above me

Awestruck, awestruck that I was unknown to this sky.

Against a competitor such as she, how could I even begin to compare.

Shades of celestial light shone wondrously above me, I closed my eyes,

Alive with the heavens’ delight and whispered a hushed hallelujah.

My soul flies toward the light, basking in her graceful grandeur.

It still needs some work, but that will come soon! Thoughts? Suggestions? Issues? Let me know!

Tagged , , , , , ,

Allure of Adventure

I’m not sure where,

but somewhere there must be

a place far more glorious than this.

I’m setting out to find it.

I give you no promise of hope

or security of the future. I have no

thoughts beyond our departure; of

what wonderful, treacherous perils

await us. Yours is a vital share.

It’s your amber eyes that I need most.

Scanning the horizon, searching

for a hint of the end. I’m waiting

at the end of the pier, restless.

The sea bursts brazenly

against my flushed cheeks.

They are accustomed to salty

waters upon them. My dress whisks

furiously undeterred by my slender frame.

The anchors stutter as they rise

above the frothy waters.

-

This is a first draft of a poem I wrote for my creative writing class. Thoughts? Suggestions?

Tagged , , ,
BloomingJeff

Monroe County welcomes you...again.

a yellow tea cup

life is simple with a cup of tea

Ian Stewart Black

Modern master of classical poetry

Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

Thomas M. Watt

A man who is lost

Kelly (on the) Fritz

(this blog is currently out of commission)

Craplandia

4 out of 5 people like crap, so crap is what I shall show.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 188 other followers