Silence for the Broken Hearted

I'm sorry for being gone so long. Things have been on a bit of a rollercoaster for the past few weeks. The whole moving thing has fallen through because I still haven't gotten a job call back and now I'm probably going to be staying in this oh-so-fun little town(Yay for sarcasm). I'm starting to think that I'll be taking some online Uni courses and hanging out here until I can move to Europe...big plans probably aren't the best...but oh well.

     
     Silence is so often what people desire to find, without realizing that silence is so often the cause of unbearable pain. The silence that feels the dark spaces in conversation is filled with thoughts of mailce and ill will. Broken hearts blossom in the empty spaces between words left unsaid, weighing down your shoulders and pushing out your knees. Silence will bring you to your knees, just as the absence of it will lift you up. 

Anchors Drop on New Land.

So just waiting to recieve some things, check out the potential apartment and if I like it I'll be putting the money down! I'm pretty excited to have a pool in the building that I can swim in when ever I'd like and a gym! Maybe this time around living away from Home won't be so bad, I'll finally be able to make it seem like my own home. I've decided on what I'd like to get as a tattoo for putting down my own roots, I'll potentially post a picture when I get it done.


Anchors drop
     to cold and salty water.
Weighing down,
    our heavy rusted hearts.
Crawling back,
    to dry and barren sands.
Finger grasping,
     broken bones on land.
Anchors drop,
     Holding down my heart.

Anticlimactic Anticipation of a New Life.

Exciting news!! I finally got a call back from the place I had really hoped to get an interview from and I'm going to view a different apartment which is lovely and huge and I could get a dog! I'm trying not to jinx it and just hoping that it will at least turn out to be half as good as I'd like it to be! I'm heading back next week for the interview and to hopefully see the place. Internet fingers crossed.


  

Anticlimactic anticipation

    of the sound of

broken bed springs.

   Coil

      release

  Coil

     release

Stop.

A Little Blood for all the Biters.

The amount of stressed I feel right now is ridiculous...I've applied at so many different places and still haven't heard anything back. I was suppose to be moving in November 1st and now I don't know how that's going to work seeing as October is already almost over. I'm holding out though and hopefully someone will call in the next two days!


  The winter wind whipped against my barely covered caves, freshly fallen snow crunching beneath my feet. I crossed my fingers inside my red coat pocket, tucked my black hair back and pushed the doors open. 'Helloooo' there was no response, not even the creak of excited feet running down the stairs. I hadn't seen my family in almost a year and it appeared that they had neglected to remember my day of arrival. It was 5am, October 31st, Hallowe'en or more commonly here, All Hallows Eve and yet my horror crazed family was silent on such an important day. I kicked my heavy boots against the wall and aimed my coat on to a hook. Walking quitely I made for the over sized staircase that interupted the grand entrance way, the marble was cold against my stocking clad feet and I took the steps two at a time. The moment my toes touched the carpet I knew something was wrong, it was almost as cold as the marble I had leapt off. My hand snaked towards the first door and I wrenched it open...silence. The wooden bed in the middle of the room was empty, slept in, but empty for hours. Each room was the same, blinds still drawn and beds left messy. Creeping back down stairs I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off in the house, and that I wasn't as alone as I thought I was. My eyes darted along the ceiling, seeing it instantly. A large black bat hung from one of the many thick wooden rafters, its small eyes glaring back into mine, with one fell swoop it launched in to the air. As I attempted to duck from the enivitable touch of its leathery wings, the brush of something much more sinister met the pale skin of my neck. 'August!' I cried as I turned to find my elder brother with his teeth nearly breaking through my skin. 'Katarina, you've really let your gaurd down this year.' A quick chuckle and he wrapped his long arm around me, 'Everyone's been hanging out since you've arrived.' He laughed at his own joke and gestured to the bats now quickly leaving the rafters and turning shape. In moments my entire family surrounded me, blending with the darkness that always surrounded us. 'To our seven hundred and eighteith All Hallows Eve!' I called, a cheer rising around me and echoing through out the house, 'And to many more!'

Perfection in Surrender.

Still waiting to hear back about a job, or any job. I'm getting a little stressed out but there isn't really anything I can do about it other than just wait. If I haven't heard back by next Wednesday I'll be heading back there and applying at grocery stores...at least then I'll have a job, though not one that I would like to have. Once I know about the job then I am going to ask at the apartment building wether or not I could get a one bedroom as opposed to the bachelor I am currently in for. The contract is at least a year of living there and I'd rather have a little extra space even if it does cost a bit more.


     It feels like a perfect night. The moonlight dancing trails of magic across our glistening skin, cascading with the droplets that fall from our foreheads. The excitment slowly drained from the moment, rolling away with the wind and the darkness. Your fingers lingered over my collar bone. Drawing them up and across my lips you sighed, barely louder than the ocean pulling at the sand dragging the world away from us. Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me? We had laid together much like this, wrapped between long limbs whispering sweet nothings. You picked me up and swung me through the summer air, 'Forever and for always' you sang to me. You're singing it again now, though this time it's tear stained and broken. The sweat on my body is quickly turning to ice, clinging to my skin and leeching away the color. I can feel your arms wrapping around me, pulling me from the sand and towards the water. 'I love you.' The water wraps slippery blankets around me, dragging me out and under. 'Forever and for always.'

Our love is yellow, why not red?

Life is crazy as usual, things with the place I had planned to move to fell through so that tossed a wrench in the plans. I did manage to find an apartment though and I do love it! I spent a week in Kamloops handing out resumes and learning about the routes to various places, it turned out to be a lot more fun than I thought it would be and I can't wait to move there. I'm still waiting to hear back on any of the jobs, and as soon as I do then I can put it down on my tenancy application and move in!! Good luck internet high-fives are welcome!

  She sang about love being red, being forceful and imminent and passionate and overwhelming. Was our love ever like that? It seemed so much paler, lighter, dreamier, sad. It was sad. The moments that I hated you so completely, promising myself that I would never trust you again. Convincing my so fickle heart that I could handle being away from you. Have we finally come this? To the point where all I see when I look at you is distaste? A part of me hopes that things will change, that the silence will turn to laughter, the tears to smiles, the distance to warmth. Our love seems so yellow. Quitte and calm and reserved. I don't want yellow love, I want red. I wish you'd show me that I don't hate you, show me that I love you, that everything I think I know is wrong. That love should be red, brilliant, dangerous, treacherous, beautiful, amazing and always changing. Your love is yellow. My love is red. Always Red.

Tears, Fears, and Adulthood.

Everything is finally getting sorted out! I'm heading down to Kamloops this weekend to hand out some resumes and adventure around, I can't wait! I've also been looking into the O'pare program and I'm hoping that I can go to England for a few months some time next year...really hoping!! It's still a little alarming that I'm actually growing up and I'm going to have to be paying rent, though I must say it's also really exciting. I'm still trying to work out some kinks with getting back into writing more often and it is getting a little easier. I had just lost so much desire and passion for it that it was almost painful sometimes. Bear with me! Here's an expert from the short story I'm currently working on...

He was a recent convert, falling into the often confusing world of faith. I held nothing against him for it, though I was an atheist, the way he experienced life was always interesting. He was my little brother after all, the boy who had grown alongside me, who had often shouldered the blame that I could hide from. What I always thought was a normal sibling relationship seemed strange to others, the way we could so easily insult each other and have no conflict come of it. We did have our fights though, loud screaming matches that left me in tears far more often than they did him.

Mismatched Socks and New Releases.

I'm trying to get back into the habit of sitting down and trying to write and so far it's helping, thankfully. I recently purchased the new J.K. Rowling book 'The Casual Vacancy' and I've been pleasently surprised with it. It's and extremely interesting story following the lives of multiple people in a small British village after the death of a council member. It's a little hard at first to realize that it is not apart of the Harry Potter serious and the language and writing are quite different, but after the first few pages I found myself instantly hooked. I really recommend reading it if you ever get the chance, I highly doubt that you'll ever regret it.


   It always seemed a rather strong coincidence between the kindness of others hearts and their socks. My sister has this best friend who never wears matching socks and they've only ever had one fight. In the fifth grade they fought over a boy that my sister wouldn't tell my mom about, she said it lasted about a week before they cried and hugged and everything was better again. They promised never to fight again, and it wasn't one of those silly ten year old girl promises, it's lasted them their lives so far. My sister always told me just how important socks were in life, especially the ones that didn't match. The girl I fell in love with never wore matching socks. Not once did I see her small feet clad in two of the same style. I think my sister had it right, there really is something lovely about the little disorganization of mismatched socks. Something in that trait gives hearts a different beat, a different rhythm. A mismatched rhythm.

Fatal Fears.

So I've been scattered as usual and haven't sat down to write in ages. Mostly out of fear that I would have nothing to write. I don't know what it is but I've been so bored with the idea of writing and of trying to restart the creative ideas, there just didn't seem to be any point in trying to do something that seemed imossible. I'm still waiting to finalize all the plans for moving and for having a job there, and I'm really hoping that it'll happen pretty damn soon. I'm hoping the desire to only spend 2/3 more years in Canada will help me to try and actually get something out there and read and maybe even published.


      Grey ice crept along the window pane, coiling around the palm pressed against it. The coldness of it barely seeping through her thin skin. With a quick intake of breath she withdrew her hand and shuffled along the sill. The snow that had fallen earlier was still clinging to the branches of the willows in the courtyard, blanketing such a horrible night in pure beauty. The quiet grace of the night was what made her waver, a slight moment of hesitiation before she chose. With her steel grey eyes locked on the ice slicked pavement below she dangled her foot in the open air. All she had to do was take one more step and everything would be beautiful once again. One last time, she whispered. The frozen night air blanketing her fatal fall.

A Quarrel for Questions and Obsessions.

It's been hectic as always around here and I've barely had the time to sit down and type something up. I'm still a little stressed on wether or not the new place is going to work out and I'm not sure if I should pack more or wait until someone can tell me what's happening. This past weekend my Mum took me to Kelowna (B.C.) for a wine tour and it was pretty incredible. Not only was the feeling of being an adult and a legal one at that awesome, but the people I got to meet made it even better. I never quite realized that wine making was such a large industry, at just one vineyard they had over 200 acres of vines! It was all quite wonderful. I haven't been writing much in the way of creative things but I'm trying to get back on track with it.


    Blood trailed its way across my hollow cheek, collecting in the indentation between my collar bones. The warmth of it was welcome compared to the cold winter air that surrounded me. Ivory flakes of snow gathered against my jagged skin and crept into my hair, melting against my already frozen ears. I tried to wipe them away but my hands limply fell against me, pushing at nothing but themselves. The feeling had gone a lot faster than I thought it would, and a delicate numbness was beginning to set in. My legs moved only inches from beneath me when I tried to get up, it was useless. A sore sight I'd have made if anyone had found me, my legs harshly crossed beneath me and my hair blood soaked and thrown about by the wind. I must have been paler than the snow at that point, all the blood had run from my head and into a ruby pool around me. Tugging at the snow and pulling it away from me, leaving only the hard ice floor beneath my body. I could hear her singing somewhere near me, soft lilting tones drifting along with the winter wind. The last thing I'd hear, the last song she would croone to me. The last song in a lovers quarrel.

Reason in the Rhyme

The internet at my house has been down for the last few days, and I've been attempting to fix it. However I am probably one of the worst people to try and fix things, so I've given in and am hoping that someone else will fix it soon. The Harry Potter week at the library I'm at went really well and I was impressed with the turn out. The wands were a ton of fun to make and the kids thought it was amazing that I had my very own 'real' wand. I might be moving again....I'm still waiting to hear on whether or not it's possible, and I'm really hoping that it is. The stress has been a bit too much and I'm finding that it's been a little harder to write. Here's a little something that I've been working on...


    They always told me everything happened for a reason. The scars were for a reason,the constant pain, the titanium. For a reason. It's hard to just accept the excuses that they're constantly feeding me. It can only last for so long, there are only so many reasons in this world. At least, there are only so many reasons in my life. And not one of them could be that important. It just couldn't.

Ruby Rudeness.

Sorry for the absence, I've been a little scattered this past week. I ended up getting the appt. for the tattoo and it looks awesome! I'm so glad I was able to get it and I can not wait to get more, I've already got somethings in mind. It's Harry Potter week at the library I work at and I'm over the moon about it. We're helping the kids make wands and wizard/witch hats and practice spells! It's all very exciting, and a little overwhelming.


    They're daggers against my skin, pooling ruby against alabaster, staining warmth on frozen flesh. They're just razors I remind myself, sooner or later the darkness would have reached my blood anyways. The pain would have clenched around my heart and pulled what little light remained. It was fascinating watching small sweet drops fall into the quickly churning falls. Fascinating to know that what kept my alive could leave my body faster than it filled it. There isn't much pain right now, the numbness is all that holds my heart. They could have stopped it, could have prevented the cold and empty abyss. But here I sit. Alone. Numb. Dead.

All The Way Past Hell.

Alright, so I think I've sorted out whatever it was I needed to. I managed to get to sleep by 2am last night, and I'm quite content with single life once again. I think somedays it just takes a few surprises and a few changes to work through the things we don't always want to let go. I'm much more content to hold out for the British boy I hope to someday meet, and yes I know that sounds childish and girlie, but I'm finally holding out for something and I think it's a start. A start that may take time, but I think I'm finally willing to wait, I'm finally okay with just letting things happen. There's no point in forcing something that could never happen, it'll only ruin the joy of finally finding it. I'm glad to be at a point in my life where I'm starting to become more comfortable. Sure I still am shy and nervous and worry about what other people think of me, but I'm getting to the point where no matter what they think of me, I've learned not to care. It's been hard, though worth it in the end.


     The cliff grasped at my calves, small pebbles dragging across my ankles as I swung them back and forth. Dark, cloudy waves rose and broke against the rock, raining ice drops against my rosey cheeks. My teeth scraped the inside of my mouth, pulling at the skin and pricking through. It ought to have hurt, to have drawn blood against my tongue. Though I guess I didn't really have any blood to spill, not any more. I could see it washing away, pulled into the receding tide and across the world, the moon pushing it where no one would see it again. Not that anyone would have cared to see it anyways, they'd never even wondered where I went off to all the time. The mornings where I paced quickly through my routine and dashed from the house before they could begin to care. Mind you, if I had waited until someone had cared I'd have been sitting there all day, even then they would have barely notice. The screech of a gull tore me from my memory, 'Oh.' I really thought I wouldn't be able to hear after I did it, though I can still touch the rock and the sea spray still hits me. This was much different then I thought it would be, I felt much more alive now, here in a moment no one but me would ever find. My gaze turned slowly back to the body lying tangled in the rocks far below, her dark hair trailing into the brine. My pale finger tips sliding off the rock were the last thing visible as a wave crashed down and dragged me under, down and down, all the way past Hell.

I Promise You Death

Well I've emailed several 'officials' in Ireland about the immigration laws but I haven't heard back yet. My fingers are crossed so tightly they hurt. Past little while I haven't been able to sleep until five in the morning, yesterday/today I didn't go to sleep until 6:30, I'm amazed I can still function. I'm so unfocused and confused lately that this entry is going to be pretty chaotic. I feel like I'm pretty done with romance at the moment, I'm getting to that point where I'm just tired of being put through the same shit every time and expecting a different outcome. There's never going to be a different ending, it'll always be the same heart break because I fell too hard, too fast. Fuck it, I'm an adult, I know life goes on and I know there's someone out there but it still hurts every time I fall.

        It was a sullen type of misery that hung in my heart as I watched him leave. Its dark claws digging into the organ that I had no desire to keep. She'd taken him from me some time ago, maybe he'd never been mine to start with but it had sure seemed like it. It was harder than I thought it would be to turn away, every part of me strained to run after him, to steal him away. Though hesitation pulled at my muscles I crouched down and slipped under the gate. This was the last time I would leave our place, the last moment that I could imagine us in our fevered glory. My leather clad foot collided with the harsh rusted iron of the gate and I bit down on my tongue to hold back the profanities. Digging sharply into my jean pocket and sliding out my lighter. The black coat glistened against the fading sun as I light it, laying its heat against the string I watched as it danced ever closer to its goal. With moments to spare I rose and walked briskly away, the sound was deafening, the heat scorched my skin and burnt my fly away hairs. My heart cried for him, for our place, for the death I had caused. But in the end, if I can't have him, no one can.

Vain is your Heart.

Alright, so I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping the last little while, at least more so than usual. The past four days I've only been able to fall asleep around five and six in the morning. It's wrecking havoc on my system and I'm barely getting anything done through out the day. I've really got to try and sort out the issues, but I have no idea why I can't sleep. It's not like I don't get tired, but I just can't seem to fall asleep. I'm watching Romeo&Juliet and reading up on my Latin, I'm just that awesome, and there is nothing else that I can think to do. I use to always want a love like theirs, something amazing and true and romantically tragic. However I've come to realize that that isn't me. I'm not that girl, I won't be the one to fall madly in love and suffer through a romantic tragedy. At best I'll be comfortable, and I think I can be okay with that. I guess. Maybe moving to Ireland will change things, maybe....hopefully.


     Quips too harsh to bare,
 thrown so careless,
                      so weightless,
     so vain.
         Lies too solid to shake,
  told so freely,
                           so lightly,
        so pained.
   Tears too cold to dismiss,
 trailing so slowly,
                                    so heavily,
    so stained.
 Hearts too broken to hold,
       torn so willingly,
                              so momentarily,
     so vain.

Sinking Sunken Ships.

Well it's 3 a.m. here and I have no desire to sleep, possibly because my heart feels like an anvil. I seem to always be the one to fall to quickly for the people that will never feel the same. It's a sickness, a weakness, a crippiling need to find pain in a way that is not only detrimental to my physical being but also to my mind and my hope. I've been trying for so long to find some way to rid myself of at least a small amount of anxiety, I've looked in to many religions and most thoroughly Buddhism but nothing makes sense to me. No 'diety' could ever give me the reassurance and strength that I need. It's a one ship fleet and this ship is sinking.

Caught up in the wasted hearts,
        the bleeding so easily spent.
Pushed down against the floor,
               your lies just another nail
    in my coffin.
I ought to hope for something sane,
       for a peace in these crimes.
But I find myself still lost,
             in a love that was never
     mine.

Senseless Obessions.

Sorry for the absence, we've been traveling a lot in the past few days but we're finally home. There's been quite the thunder storm going for most of the day, I'm enjoying it so long as I remain inside. Going to the States was pretty great, a lot of the things they had in Seattle and Port Angeles were things I've never seen. I'm beginning to amass quite the collection of British/Irish/Scottish cookbooks and ingredients. Just the other day I purchased my first ever tin of treacle and I can't wait to try and use it! I'm a wee bit fascinated with the food and culture involved and I try my hardest to keep what I make authentic. I'm attempting to bring myself to having black pudding (For those who don't know it's made with sheep's blood and various organs) I seem to be having a little trouble with getting over the inital thought of it.

     Senseless Games

I hear your whispers

through the walls.

Paper thin and vain

you are.

A taunt, a tease

a laughing gaze.

Your flitting hand wraps

longing round my heart.

A bitch, a skank

a senseless whore.

I’m not up for your cold games,

not anymore.

Wish Away my Broken Heart.

Well we've made it to the great expanse of America...Port Angeles to be more precise and it's great! The coolest thing so far is the fact that you can buy alcohol in grocery stores. In Canada that would never happen, though it would be really awesome if it would. It was a very foggy ferry ride from Victoria but I greatly enjoyed the fact that I felt like I was in a Harry Potter movie! My anxiety is still pretty through the roof these days, I've been worrying a lot about others. There's too much pain that people have to go through, it just isn't fair and I wish that I could take it away. All of it.

Bloody Broken Hearts

The blood, in all its rush,

Races over your finger tips.

Dropping to the ground,

And slithering to the drain.

Pulling your teeth out,

Letting your broken fingers cry.

Falling to the ground,

And breaking all those bones.

The blood, in all its rush,

Leaves a stained heart behind.