quite possibly the best way for me to express my feelings at times is through listening to music and writing down lyrics and thinking them over long and hard. I know it may sound crazy that listening to someone else's words help me create my own, but at times, it is really the only way. Another thing that really makes you think is when you take the time to think through lyrics to what may have been your favorite song. I plan on using this blog to share with everyone I love and others too the thoughts, feelings, and crazy ideas I have running through my head at all times. I figured the first post is a good time to set the mood for that. There are times when those close to me will look at me and say... "Where'd THAT thought come from, KT?" well, hopefully this will help.
On Sunday on my 6.5 hour drive back from Norfolk, VA I did a somewhat (okay, very) unsafe thing, and I wrote down the lyrics that I listened to on my ipod on shuffle and then I would respond, or something would hit me from another song, etc. Now comes the time to decipher my own handwriting, written while driving, and shifting in traffic, over 6 hours of my life. :) Mind you, there were really only a few different artists on my ipod at the time, and those of you who know me well, have probably been forced into listening to some of it. haha. OOOKK:
written August 30, 2009:
breathe until your dying breath. you give me confidence to stare and observe the world. fact and fiction work as a team, but fact is what you actually believe. i must go on standing. black haired man and red haired kid in a gas station parking lot. aw. constructed for you but molded for me. when you run make sure you run to something and not away from caue life dont need an airplane to chase you anywhere. bought an everything bagel, apparently they name them this because they get everything all over you. what is home to you? to me? a kiss hello every morning, or goodnight in the evening? sometimes home to me is just trying to decipher what you're saying when you're brushing your teeth. sometimes it's at 815 when i get those texts that remind me that 815 happens twice a day, whether i'm ready for it or not. losing hope is easy, hanging on is easy, you're not the only one afraid of change. when you hug someone take an extra three seconds and breathe in their existence, make it a real hug, not just a slap on the back and off you go. no feelings except this is right, we had to leave it all behind. do you overstand? rest stops on 95. as soon as you say your thoughts out loud they can go on living without you. but only if someone else hears them. clouds bring the f stop blues. oedipus, the king's 32nd son. what's the deal with roadside crosses? sometimes i feel like they're put there by the dot to remind you to slow down, i pay more attention to them at times then to the speed limit signs, no where else will you see a marking for the exact spot where someone has died. NCDOT SIGN UNDER TEST.... well, it worked, i read it. Luna's farting is horrible. thanks for feeding my dog your food, guys. the sun's rising to my left, which means i'm going away from you. you can't kill heroes!!! my dreams fly me to a place near baltimore. sometimes i catch the joy a melody brings from a ragged 6 string guitar. singing the songs we're embarrassed to sing, may we never be embarrassed to sing. 391 miles now to Daytona, thanks for the update LAMAR. I believe you're not just conjured up. disturbing make believe has come true. don't ever use your undercover tone of voice with me. nights like these, make ya sleep all day, it's nights like these make you feel so far away. she's got a weakness for writers and i was never that good with words anyway. there's that sombrero in the sky, crossing border. working the mileage in my head i'm calculating and sick of waiting, how many hours left until i reach the bed, but i'm not a skeptic anymore as i see what al of this ridiculous hard work is for. what if you could only speak the truth? what would you say? bleed confidence. some say with age your purpose comes clear but i see the opposite happening here. hold your own, know your name, and go your own way, and everything will be fine. Are the details in the fabric? are your thoughts result of static cling? things that make you panic, are they results of mother nature's sewing machine? i know this is redundant but i think it bears repeating, i think I've found my other half, I swear I've found my better half. OOHH tell me please that I don't have to read between the lines, babe, this is me and you don't have to keep something heavy on your mind, did you sleep? not a wink? well, neither did I. babe, spell it out, don't have to shout when you're talking to me. dont lock your doors, everyone is poor between the lines. kiss me with your eyelashes tonight. so this girl in front of me has a bumper sticker that says "sex-deprived for your freedom" is that really what you are? because I would rather have one that says, i cry myself to sleep at night, or i didn't talk to my husband today for your freedom, we're such a sex-driven country that no one realizes how to communicate, it's sex sex sex and instantaneous joy, or nothing. wow. eye opener. really? don't you miss his laugh, his smile, holding hands? well, you go on being sex-deprived, and I will go on laughing at you. sometimes in life everything gets slow like a gunshot in a movie. a man destined to drowned will never burn and a man destined to burn will never ever ever ever drowned daniel cowman. were you in love with me, or at least as in love as you can be when you turn 16 in july. this song reminded me of when i thought i was going to run away and ride off into the sunset with my high school boyfriend, hahah funny. wow. some say they'd love to be young again, i just really wish i would have videotaped the episodes in my life so i could look back on them now and say, well, i guess i really don't need it, i remember them quite clearly. do you ever remember something and wonder how you remembered that? I think a lot of mine has something to do with all of the pictures that were taken of me growing up. I know what my favorite shirt was, favorite color, favorite shoes, doll, bear, place, smile, laugh, joke, because of photographs. that is one of the main reasons i love it. i wish i could follow everyone around and just be able to remind them later what happened. wow, thanks for the realizations, m. back to lyrics: babe i'm lost, i dont know what to say, dont wanna steal you of a young woman;s life, btu to me it's perfect i just wanna do you right. it's a good thing this song isn't longer because then more than one tear would fall. when i first heard this song i had been crying off and on for hours, bad time in my life, ugh. take the good with the bad i guess, but thanks katie for that memory, not the tears, but the soaking up of them. i've known others and i've loved others too, but i've loved them cause they were stepping stones, on a staircase to you. it reminds me of a clock that just won't tick. he's got stones instead of bones. produce sign. peaches. ah, south. nothing short of thankful. lazy man found an easy way, easy work for easy pay, i'm not listening there ain't no such a thing. i remember one time my brother told me to go down to the work bench and grab the bucket that on the front it was labeled "elbow grease" because apparently that was going to help me do whatever task it was that i was trying to do, clean or something. i walked downstairs into my dad's basement, i never had to duck going down those stairs but everyone else did. after searching for a while i went and asked my dad where it was. he sent me back down there telling me it was in a yellow can. i finally just gave up looking. i hope for longer goodbyes because i'm living in your letters, chris carrabba i cannot write as fast as you sing, and can't sing as loud as you do. if i do i will not be able to speak when i get home. does it comfort you to know you are the good fight? mom's calling, must plug in my phone. teach me how to use the love that people say you make.
so. this was what went through my head from the time the sun started rising until my mom called. then for the next hour and a half i persisted to tell my mom everything. it was a great relaxing weekend that had to happen for oh so many reasons. refreshing, solid, and amazing. i remember one time when i was younger getting crazy emotional and i didn't really want to tell anyone what was wrong, so i got into my mom's car and started bawling crying and complaining about the animals on the side of the road and how they for sure could invent something that would keep them off the road. when she let me drive for the first time, i braked for butterflies. i drove miss ann n dad's truck the first day they had it, that was very different from driving the 88 suburban. i miss that thing, many memories were made in that car. many memories are made in every car if you really think about it.
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