Song Write 1

Guideline: Listen to music and limit self to only writing in a way that relates to the song. So, to get full effect you have to know the songs. It is also timed. Must finish current sentence/topic when song ends.

Wake me up – Avicii
In terms of anxiety

In a pit within your ideas that clouds every movement and judgment
You can almost see the light, but here in this darkness you cannot escape your awful reality
The reality of your fear: the loss, the disappointed glares, every word they could say will never hurt as much as the ones you’ve already engraved upon your soul
You’ll never know that you are lost until the storm subsides
Those faces begin to clear and you can finally see
How it was only just the beginning

Hey Brother – Avicii
In terms of depression

I stopped believing a long time ago, though there are some things that I believe in other than myself
I’ve never had a home, but my bed will endlessly encompass me
The escape of escapes; if only the sky would fall and smother me here too
But it never does
And I could easily give it all for you
But I would never give anything for myself
When everyone outweighs you, self-sacrifice becomes the obvious choice

Levels – Avicii
In terms of desire

We danced in the fountains and throughout every depressive episode my past never went before my eyes, but there, in that stream, my future passed in front of me when you blocked the sun for an instant. I was hoping for so much more and now that I am here, with more than I ever bargained for, I can’t help but start to fear that everything I wanted might just be to near for me to be able to keep you

Thornside – Matt Brouwer
In terms of escape

I kept telling myself that I needed to learn something from all this. I would learn to heal her. I would fix this. I would be the magic glue that they needed, because I can do what He can’t. But this isn’t that story. There isn’t a break in the clouds as long as I’m here on this page, but I’ll tell you when I see that new day in a different chapter. This thorn will never set me free as long as I continue to let it dig under my bones, sucking my marrow dry.

Whatcha Say – Jason Derulo
In terms of betrayal

The roof will never cave in unless we find ourselves in an earthquake, but I swear I prayed for it to when I saw you leave for her. The tragedy I was looking for is always right in front of me, thankfully, it is predominantly the fault of those around me. Unfortunately, I don’t have a say in these things.
You only meant well, and I knew this from the start, but I always wished there was more than good intent. Later on you would see that I deserved so much more than intentions, but I’m still standing on a ledge with an unchecked parachute. It’s brand new and hasn’t been tested even once. I’m feeling rather dumb for trusting it.

Runaway – Ed Sheeran
In terms of home

Home has never been a place I could find, but as I walked out that door there was no surprise. I was no adult nor could I sign any leases, but I needed to run. I never needed to say a thing. He’d know how every word would have fallen and how it would only leave him with more disdain for her sour words and sore heart. Every intention left aches and pains, but they all knew I wouldn’t be back for long. A temporary stay before packing and taking to the road: another trip around the world in a literal sense this time instead of all that metaphorical bullshit.
I love him from the skin to my bones. But I’m looking for something away from him this time.

Drunk – Ed Sheeran

I can believe that the truth will never make you stronger. It is predominantly pain not worth mentioning. I miss your warmth in the cold summer nights when I forget to keep my warmer blankets by my side.
When I drank the entire night away I almost hoped you would appear in my waking dreams, but instead I scratched my wrists until I saw red and wished I could empirically measure the love you held for her against what I feel reaching across the land from the west coast.
Cans collected along the floor of my bedroom, with the music playing in my head causing my body’s submission to a rhythm instead of a knife… and left alone my legs were made to feel like lead for the rest of the week… I’ll never let go of the rhythm if it means seeing you before God’s return.

Dashboard – Modest Mouse

Nowhere is the place that I am always searching for, but it really couldn’t be any worse than this. The radio is only a little distracting when placed within a burning car. I would ignore the burns and the splintering windshield, drumming and swaying and moving to each and every note that I felt within my very soul. I could never let go of the drums, but when anyone appeared I found that I forgot every piece and when they stared I began to break, break, break… Couldn’t keep the drums or the beat or the scene and as each and every piece of me disappeared into the background I recalled how I had placed all my hopes in this one last thing… one last thing that maybe I could do I could feel I could accomplish with everything in my soul because everything in my soul could only ever be shown with how these songs made me feel….. .. how I saw them play out in my mind.

Little Bird – Ed Sheeran

With a broken leg you can still fly as a bird. Well, aren’t you a fool?
Would you stay? And I can’t. I thought it would be simple. I’d always feel that way, but I now know that something in me is broken… I’ve always known this. Broken against my heart… the morning dew will never feel my feet willingly, as the sunrise holds my attention as much as a dream.
It’s late love. Go back to sleep.
Regret. Diving in too soon.
I’ll owe it all to you.
I was so certain within your presence… but maybe I’m just in love when you wake me up… because with each passing week I’m falling into something of a normal pattern of obsession with this or that while the memories of you fall to the wayside…

Wake me up – Ed Sheeran

Maybe I’m just in love when you wake me up. If we got tattoos instead of wedding rings, would I feel as though this is more permanent? Would the commitment suddenly become realistic? I’ll never know… I’ll never know what you see in this basket case that is me, but with every word I write I hope that I’ll see some new books someday… I never really asked for a fairytale ending, but there you were, a knight carrying me to the hospital, staying up with me all night, blowing off finals and scholarships and the world’s definition of success…. Why couldn’t it be that I just breathe to feel you against me… but you still have a train to catch and a week states away……

Maybe I fell in love when you woke me up.

A little something

A poem, a journal, and an unfinished story. Help me finish it, won’t you?

I was thinking about poetry slams
I was thinking about politics and saints
Left to right and front seats
Wishing the window was open
Suffocating with cats and birds

Normally you hear about people reading or seeing or whatevering and being inspired. Well, a lot of times I see or read or whatever and am uninspired. You know, I’ll be browsing the blogosphere one moment and find all this beautiful, full of life, truth, love, whatever stuff, and then I’ll find some article written full of pride, anger, hate, or just stupidity, and I think, “If that can be posted online… then everything I write is probably worse.”

And then other times I’m like, “I’m freakin’ awesome ’cause I write way better than that.” and all my grammar and english skills and everything just end. cause I set lower standards for myself.

So, I decided, that I think I’m going to reread Lord of the Rings. Because that is some good writing there. No idea where I’m going with any of this. I just felt like writing a simple little post after sifting through random stuff on the internet.


So, back to the here and now. I’m gonna force myself to write something somewhat creative, so I can feel a lot better about myself for having at least written something. Ultimate question of the last few months: How long does writer’s block last before you are no longer a writer? I’m not responding to that with some, “Being a writer is simply part of who I am (whether or not I’ve been practicing at all recently)” bullshit. I don’t typically give myself leeway on things like this. Thankfully, I got really drunk the other night and actually wrote something in the midst of emotions involving family affairs and missing my boyfriend that was decent. And decent is stretching it. The first few lines of that freewrite started this post. So now. Imma shuddup and see what can be typed. Because, even though every first draft is worse than manure cat pee skunk sweating dumpster smell, what makes me a writer is fucking writing.

In the rain she could feel at home, and could is the key word. It didn’t always hold her with warm summer arms and remind her that the feeling of tears–even if they are only the sky’s–can be peaceful. When either she or the rain couldn’t capture that perfect caress (maybe the wind interfered: ice shards piercing instead), the rain became a perfect hell. It was the disappointment that meddled. If the rain would have been more kind today, maybe heaven would be there instead, but the anticipation of that comforting caress had been ruined.

However the rain was ruined, it didn’t matter. She looked to her feet, which shuffled in a puddle on her gravel driveway. Life was always to be lived. With a breath of water and air, she opened her car door and let the dry enclosure purge her of the disappointing rain that clattered on her rusting car.

And that’s all I’ve got for right now. Tell me, where should she be heading? What is the life that she must live? I’d like some help with this story. Thank you!

-Katherine Z

No Title

It’s like I came back to life when I saw that site
“Beep Beep Boop”
You know it.
The one that tells you to cleanse your mind
Start anew
Start fresh
Let go.
What an overused phrase these days. But how I adore it. “Adoration” holds a special place in my heart. It is almost an obsession. In most respects, it is unhealthy: as all emotions can by categorized as. Adoration intertwines love and respect… but, because pride somehow comes with my personality as much as depression, respect is painful for me. Saying I respect or adore something is a rather large statement.
Now that I got that out of the way, back to let it go.
I adore this statement because it encompasses everything that I am being challenged to do right now. I like to be in control. Whenever I feel like I am losing it, I either grip tighter or run away. Really bad reaction. I cover it up with sarcasm quite well, but as the date for leaving the country gets closer I start to want to plan. I want to know where I will go. How I will be secure. How each event will play out. But I can’t ever know these things… and God is trying to get that through my head. Letting go… I don’t want to. But if I want to truly live to my fullest-aka, fully follow in Christ Jesus’ footsteps-I have to be willing to let Him control my steps… not me. It is something I know He is going to get me to learn how to do in my travels.
The first step to this was the simple fact that He closed the doors to Semester at Sea for me. This… is possibly the best thing that could have happened. Instead of being constricted to a schedule, classes, and a cruise ship, I am now backpacking Iceland and setting a base up in London, from where I will travel Europe. I then plan on somehow making my way to China or something. I actually have no fucking idea what the hell I’m doing after my plane lands in London, but… that is part of the “letting go.”

You know what I just thought of? “Closing doors” is a really stupid phrase. I was trying to make a door out of a cement or maybe metal wall. I don’t think a window or some other door was opened… Instead, I just realized that I was kind of an idiot and was wasting time walking into corners and walls and shit.

I know this is a bit of a strange “re-entry into the blogosphere” post… but it needed to be something. Anyway, before I sign off for however long, I want to post something that I thought after traveling to the Dominican Republic for a missions trip. I wanted to save it for when I was “more-traveled” and supposedly wiser, but then I realized that that statement contradicted the very point I was making and everything about the honesty I would like to convey. So, here it is:
You can travel the world in search of a story, but only when you can return home for the finale will you understand what is most important.
And so. In one month I am leaving the United States with no plans of returning. But… I will when it is time for the finale.