Monday, March 30, 2015

Am I becoming undeniably infatuated with the music of Mitch Welling?

The answer is yes. I am.
A few weeks ago, while mindlessly scrolling through the depths of posi twitter, I stumbled upon a string of retweets by someone called "@flatsound". I thought to myself, "he seems like a pretty cool guy", and a cool guy he was.
After finding out he was a musician with a good amount of work on youtube, I spent a few hours listening to his entire discography. I only got a little bit dehydrated from crying so a good way. (Take into consideration I am a giant crybaby)
First of all, his voice is just plain soothing. I don't know how to put it any other way. Listening to his singing kind of feels like listening to a lullaby and not wanting to fall asleep cause you're afraid you'll never hear it again. I hope that made sense.
Second of all, (is that a thing? Do people say that?) his lyrics. Oh my god, those are some quality lyrics. If you listen to any of his songs, you'll get where I'm coming from. They're written so poetically and they're bursting with meaning. I don't know how he does it, but lemme tell you, he's got talent.
So if you want to listen to spectacular tunes, (and trust me, you do) here are some links to my favorite flat sound songs. (It 's a long list)

A Small List of Things that I Normally Would Hide -Ah yes, my life story

You Said Okay -Probably his most popular song. Kind of like a mix between spoken word poetry and a love song.

I Exist I Exist I Exist -Stop telling me you're "not crying" I know you are you can't fool me

They'll Like Me When I'm Sick -*sighs*

You are the Coffin -Muffled sobbing

To See you Alive -Staring into the night sky tracing outlines of constellations while contemplating my place in this vast and unforgiving universe brb

You Had a Panic Attack in my Bathroom -You will cry ok don't fight me on this

It's Sunday, April 19th and I Miss You -Same, Mitch, same.

I'm so Concerned About the Ending that I don't Even Know the Plot - Ending of a semi-happy note?

So there it is, life itself. I'd recommend any of his other songs floating around on the web. Happy uh, music listening!


Sunday, March 22, 2015

I Wrote This For You

Ready for some very exciting news?! I thought so.
In regular english and creative writing, we were assigned to do a project called 'Language in the Real World' and it's a way to present our writing on a public platform. One of the options for the assignment is this thing called, "Youthspeak" at the summit county library on Monday. So, because I stick myself into the most potentially socially awkward situations, I chose that! Here's the info:
You should totally consider coming. Or don't, I don't own you.
Anyway, I guess I feel pretty good about it. I wrote something I'm rather proud of that uses some pretty great metaphors. Hooray.

I’m standing in the dead center of a snow-covered yard
snowflakes falling one by one 
colliding with my skin
pricking the back of my neck like frozen arrows
i stand shivering
watching city buses groan by, 
and as the smell of gasoline is carried awayin a cloud of grey smoke
My arms stretch out beside me trying to reach what isn’t there and I’m falling
hitting the hard-packed ice-covered crystalized-gunk like ground
but I don’t mind 
because this is serenity
looking up at the constilations stretching left and right like a panoramic picture 
I could dip my fingertips into the inky horizon
drenching them one by one in golden paint
and writing poems across the night sky 
Causing a ripple affect of “I miss you”and I wonder if
across a shallow sea of distance and determination
you can see it too

I thought it turned out pretty well for a last minute free verse if I do say so myself. So there's that. I actually found myself looking forward to Monday, like maybe I'll be okay. 

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Dr. Bird's Advice for Sad Poets (A Book Review/Worshiping)

I considered making the title of this post, "Is it possible to be in love with a stack of paper with a combination of letters printed on them you ask? The answer is yes" but hey, "Book Review of Dr. Bird's Advice for Sad Poets" works just as well.
Admit it, you love the cover and you totally want to read it.

My sister and I found the book during out daily going-to-the-library-and-checking-out-every-YA-novel-imaginable trip. It was my sister who spotted it, and she showed my the title and said something on the lines of, "lmao it u"
It's true. If I had to pick the perfect title to capture what I'm all about that would be it. Of course, I was intrigued. I snatched the book, checked it out, and read it within the next three days.
The synopsis: Sixteen year old James Whitman, lover of poetry and YAWPing, lives a less than perfect life in the midst of a completely dysfunctional family. His sister has been kicked out by his abusive parents, and he's left to deal with the aftermath.
I admit, I was skeptical at first. I mean, the synopsis was a sad boy and meets a girl and she saves hi-wait no non o no don't lea-
If there's one thing I truly hate, it's YA novels about a depressed teen who is saved only when another teen comes along and saves them with the power of love. I don't think any teenager struggling with mental illness wants to hear about how pseudo-adolescent-love will cure them. Don't get me wrong, a support system is necessary in recovery, but in the end, the decision to fight is up to the person in question. I figured this book wouldn't be any different.
However, I was pleasantly surprised.
Dr. Bird's Advice for Sad Poets is not a story about sadness, depression, or giving up. It's a story of hope. It's a story that propels the idea of saving and loving oneself, and that is so important.
The book threaded humor and light into an otherwise really dark subject. Personally, I love the way the book looked at the world from James's view in a realistic and relatable way. I especially love how it ended on an uplifting note, like yeah, you know what, you go Evan Roskos, keep it up.
I highly recommend this book to sad lovers of poetry, and everyone else for that matter.
*A very important side note I should mention: the subject matter of this book contains triggering material. It talks about self-mutilation, suicide, and abuse. It's not anything terribly graphic but I guess I would have liked to be warned before hand, so here's you're warning. Okay bye love you.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

You're Alright

This is, as Faith would call it, a mini post. Basically this was far too exciting and I couldn't wait to tell someone about it. Even if that someone is a blog that two people read.
So the big exciting thing I was gonna tell you about: "You're Alright" a new song by Bribry. Here it is: (listen to it and have a beautiful melody stuck in your head for the next three days. (Or not, it's up to you))
So??? What did you think? 
Personally I absolutely adore it. Their voices blend so nicely together, the lyrics have depth and meaning, and those are some A+ background vocals by Evan. 
That's it for now, I suppose. If you need me I'll be busy telling everyone I know about this.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

27 Reasons to Exist

These are all of my journals.

If there is such a thing as a journal nerd, that would be me. (from left to right) My first ever journal from the time i began recovering (art done by the beautiful Leah Williamson),  and my current and second journal. I also have a poetry/story journal (it's about as pretentious as it sounds), and a tiny fish journal where I keep my quotes (courtesy of Faith Staley).
My favorite thing to do when I don't know what to write is a list of reasons to live. It helps. Even if everything seems fine, it helps you appreciate the little things in life. So I thought I'd share some of my top reasons to exist. I mean, who knows, they might help.

1. Road trips
2. Peppermint tea
3. Sunrises 
4. Sunsets
5. Finding your soulmate
6. Tree houses
7. Hanging out with your soulmate in a treehouse
8. Dogs
9. Non-judgemental people
11. Coffee ice cream
12. Libraries
13. Making lists of all the reasons to live
14. Flowers
15. Potted plants
16. Doing that one thing you've always wanted to do.
18. Cool short films on youtube
19. Marshmallows
20. Finding new music
21. Learning how to photoshop peoples' eyebrows off
22. Traveling
23.  Painting (even if you're bad at it)
24. Strangers smiling back
25. Gerard Way could finally reply to you on twitter. You never know
26. Because things will get better
27. Because you deserve it.

Monday, December 29, 2014

Not-So-Great Things Like Reciting Poetry or Whatever

I really like poetry. Especially that of others. I think it's because everyone else is so much better at putting emotions and stories into words than I am.
If I'm alone and my thoughts are going a million miles per hour, I can write endlessly. Just for the sake of writing. I don't have to prove anything to anyone or create some heart wrenching, soul twisting, tear jerking thing in order to inspire people...I can just write.
Except when I do feel the need to impress people. Then it gets ugly.
In non-honors english, we were doing a mandatory poetry slam thing, and at first, for about 7 seconds, I was genuinely excited about it. Then reality happened.
Obviously, I wanted to make something worthwhile. I don't want to be one of those kids who bullshits the whole thing and writes a five line poem about lettuce...not that there's anything wrong with that. At the same time, I didn't want to be that person that writes this epic superiority complex poem that leaves people thinking, "wow, she needs to calm down." But it's kind of difficult to find that grey area in the spectrum of lazy and insane.
So I wrote a poem. It's a topic that I've spent a lot of time mulling over, and it's passionate and deep and easy to write. It's about loving someone. Someone as messed up as me, because I could never imagine putting that love into myself. Believe me, it was hell reading this in front of people. Pure hell, but it was the only thing on my mind, and the only thing I felt I could express. So anyways, here it is:

"I still remember the first thing you ever said to me
It was as your hand brushed against mine 
and you muttered sorry as if you had just acidentally slapped me across the face
And I still wonder why you would felt the need to apologize.
Maybe just for existing.
Maybe for simply taking up space.
The second thing you ever said to me was a few days later you said, “I heard you like green day”
And I guess that’s how it started.
How our vacent eyes glazed over with layers of artificial hope, 
And found eachother across the inky horizon, 
in a daze of lost dreams and broken souls
Trading secret smiles and and the smallest signs of faith
across a lifeless, colorless, hopeless hospital room
because after endless hours of ekg’s, blood draws, anti-depressants, 
blind weights, feeding tubes, supplements, therapy -you made every second worth it.
I see my sulken grey eyes and protruding spine 
reflected in you like a mirror.
whispering hollow motivations,
of how much i want you to see you smile,
and it hurts to know that the inside of your mind must be a wasteland like mine.
And my god, I wish I could make you see
how truely perfect you are in my eyes
when your ice-cold hands hold mine 
tracing stars across my skin
they are skeletal full of calouses, but I dont mind because
mine are pallid and thin with the unmistakable trace
of teeth marks permanetly carved into my knuckles. 

and I can’t help but think they fit perfectly together.

But how can you pour all of your love into someone else when you don’t even have the courage to love yourself?"

I want to start off by saying I never wanted to make depression or eating disorders seem in any way beautiful, or romantic. They're not. They really suck. I wrote this because I wanted to get a message across: sometimes you rush into things. I could never imagine putting that love into myself, so I found the closest person to do so. It isn't absolutely necessary to love yourself first, but my god, I bet it's worth a shot. So maybe it's time we accept ourselves instead of tossing around the word love like, I don't know, like it doesn't mean anything.
So basically, I don't know what I'm doing right now. I don't know for certain if this whole thing was love or me avoiding self-acceptence. Most likely the latter.
So that's my life right now. Loving yourself is easier said than done, but like I said, it's gotta be worth a shot.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

On the topic of being hit by a bus:

So I'm not very good at being straitforward.
Today, I was zoning out as usual, thinking about space and time and how we're all just specks of dust in a crazy, ever changing cosmic void. Anyway, I thought, one day, I could be hit by a bus. Or attacked by a venomous snake. It's whatever. And if that ever happened, the people i loved would never know how much I loved them. The people i cared about would never know how much I cared about them. The people I secretly hated would live their lives believing I liked them. Any of those outcomes would ruin ghost me. So maybe that means it's time I tell people how I feel. Maybe waiting for the right time would mean waiting forever, so what better time to tell everyone than now? Here's all the things I should have said when I had the chance:
To the people I love: I love you. 
To the people I care about: I really care about you.
To my family: you're okay.
To my sisters: you're better than family. I love you.
To the girl that called me fat in 7th grade: Fuck you.
To the girl who sat next to me in french last year: You're beautiful. Don't hurt yourself.
To the 27 strongest people I've ever met: please keep fighting. Please don't let this ugly world make you believe you're anything less than amazing. You're spectacular.
To the people who hurt me: I forgive you.
So if one day, I'm walking home and I get hit by a bus, this could offer some closure. 
Lastly, I really hope you don't think I'm crazy. I'm not, I promise. I just wanted to let you know. 

Because I don't know when my bus is coming.