Okay, let's get a few things straight. I know I have only what, three followers on this blog? And I kind of suck about keeping it up. But I really enjoy writing. I really do. For a long time, I knew I was going to write. Or so, I thought I was. But eventually my career path wasn't about what I wanted to do anymore, it was about what I could do. At the college I attend, they didn't have the major I wanted so I was going to settle. Writing has always, always been what I've wanted to do. Even when I was a little kid. Even when this kid in my creative writing class who was supposed to be my friend told me I wasn't creative enough. (He was an asshole.) Even when my friends would write beautiful things, and I felt like shit because my writing wasn't anywhere near as good as theirs.
But writing was in my blood, it was a part of who I was. Still is, I think.
So then my career path just transformed into what I could do with an English degree that would be easy and allow me to live a simple life.
I forgot about writing.
Isn't that sad? So now, I've chosen something that I know I won't forget about. I'm changing my degree to Biology, and then I'm going to Vet School, and I finally feel like this is right.
Okay, on to topic number deux.
Love.
Let's get one thing straight here. Love, real true love, has nothing to do with how a person looks. That is the cold hard facts people. Really. I know this with every fiber in my being.
Love is about who the person is.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
The Way Things Used to Be: Autumn as Children
The decaying leaves covered the sleeping grass,
and crunched as we ran around the yard,
our coats swishing about us.
We ran, ran, ran
until our hair came undone and our
cheeks were red. Our world didn't know
sadness nor did we realize what adulthood
would truly be like.
The beauty we knew of was of flower petals
and the softness of a kitten's fur.
We knew nothing of being thin or
of "ideal beauty." We were what
we wanted to be.
Often I was a princess, traveling across the
seven seas in search of my daring prince.
My brothr was a knight, sworn to protect me,
his sword never unpolished. My elder sister,
the Queen, was often a guide.
The backyard was our world,
tall weeds made our jungles and
the wash house roof was our mountain.
The swings were our magic carpets and
portals to other worlds. The shed was forever,
our hide out.
Never ever did we think that we'd grow up,
we'd never leave Peter behind,
and we'd certainly never forget the adventures.
We'd never forget Autumn.
and crunched as we ran around the yard,
our coats swishing about us.
We ran, ran, ran
until our hair came undone and our
cheeks were red. Our world didn't know
sadness nor did we realize what adulthood
would truly be like.
The beauty we knew of was of flower petals
and the softness of a kitten's fur.
We knew nothing of being thin or
of "ideal beauty." We were what
we wanted to be.
Often I was a princess, traveling across the
seven seas in search of my daring prince.
My brothr was a knight, sworn to protect me,
his sword never unpolished. My elder sister,
the Queen, was often a guide.
The backyard was our world,
tall weeds made our jungles and
the wash house roof was our mountain.
The swings were our magic carpets and
portals to other worlds. The shed was forever,
our hide out.
Never ever did we think that we'd grow up,
we'd never leave Peter behind,
and we'd certainly never forget the adventures.
We'd never forget Autumn.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
I'm a Bird
I am a flightless bird.
They catch me, they hold me tight.
Their large, hot, hands pin me down,
they squeeze tighter, as if I am not a free
creature.
Oh no, I see them now. With shiny sheers in hand,
they clip my wings.
I cannot fly, I cannot run.
I am a flightless bird.
They catch me, they hold me tight.
Their large, hot, hands pin me down,
they squeeze tighter, as if I am not a free
creature.
Oh no, I see them now. With shiny sheers in hand,
they clip my wings.
I cannot fly, I cannot run.
I am a flightless bird.
18 AUG 2012: 12:35 AM I Dream of the Woods
At night, in the heat of thesummer, when my loneliness
aches from every pore,
I dream of the woods.
The deep dark forest
calls to my very core,
writing cryptic stories
on my chest.
The mist shrouds the
black trees and I long
to be one with them,
I wish to never leave.
The sun is no friend here,
there is no way to show.
Only darkness is welcome,
only mystery remains.
Nothing sweet may stay.
Wondering of the beasts
that dwell in that darkness,
I keep a watchful eye.
Not that they wouldn't be
welcome, this grove is our
home.
We share this place, all of us poor
lost creatures. We thrive on the
unknown and live with the
stones we've thrown.
Wandering is inevitable;
we are wandering souls.
I dream of the woods,
at night in the summer's
heat, when my loneliness
aches from every pore.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Lion's head
Lion's head
By Jaime Contrys
I can still hear the waves,
as they crash against the cliff.
The echos climb up the slippery rocks;
explaining its name.
At night, our bare feet dangling over the edge,
the soft pink-orange glow of LA's coast can be seen.
It doesn't interfere with our view of the sky though.
Above us in the infinite navy sky, a billion stars
twinkle down on us.
I remember the feel of your
master hands, gracefully sliding down
my hairline and over my bare freckled shoulders.
If I concentrate hard enough,
I can still feel a lock of your silky
hair, between my fingers.
I can still feel your embraces
that came so often and I
can almost imagine
that we're still there,
on the island.
We are still unchanged,
and undamaged.
We still exist on Lion's head.
By Jaime Contrys
I can still hear the waves,
as they crash against the cliff.
The echos climb up the slippery rocks;
explaining its name.
At night, our bare feet dangling over the edge,
the soft pink-orange glow of LA's coast can be seen.
It doesn't interfere with our view of the sky though.
Above us in the infinite navy sky, a billion stars
twinkle down on us.
I remember the feel of your
master hands, gracefully sliding down
my hairline and over my bare freckled shoulders.
If I concentrate hard enough,
I can still feel a lock of your silky
hair, between my fingers.
I can still feel your embraces
that came so often and I
can almost imagine
that we're still there,
on the island.
We are still unchanged,
and undamaged.
We still exist on Lion's head.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
The Letter: May 11, 2012
A year ago in my senior English class my teacher had us write letters to ourselves which she would send to us in a year. I forgot about it and was actually stunned when I received it. Frankly, I was scared what it would say. But when I opened it, I was actually surprised. I was pretty wise for an eighteen year old girl, I think. Here is what I said:
"Restraint
*heat(Weather conditions)
being so long without normality
forgetting themselves
stress/always being on the edge
We have to remember. We have to remember who we are, why we're doing what we're doing, and what our goal is/what are we trying to achieve. Remembrance is the key to a lot of things. If we forget for even just a second, a little part of us snaps, and its hard to recover. Restraint is important. Without it we lose everything. Restraint keeps everything in check and balanced. Because Of restraint we don't do things that would damn us.
Jaime,
School. It's so stupid, but it is necessary. Don't forget your life and the effects of no schooling. You can't do anything you can't go anywhere, you'll be nothing. You can't accomplish what you want to. You won't see the world without SCHOOL. Without KNOWLEDGE. Is that what you want? No. Change who you are and you'll change your circumstances. You can take care of yourself and you can take care of your family. You can be who you want to be. With knowledge. You. Can. Do. Anything. Want to study in Egypt? Graduate. Go to school. Get a job. Become great, and you'll achieve great. Accomplish great, and you'll become great. You want power? You have to earn it.
Keep writing.
You don't need a man. You can be perfectly happy without them.
Love unconditionally, be happy and change yourself.
You can be great.
I love you. God loves you. That's all you need, God's love."
Wasn't I so wise?
April 13, 2012-I hate Feeling
Today I received a letter from a dear friend of mine that is in the MTC and is preparing to go on a mission. I've kind of been waiting to hear from another..well, I was in love with this other guy and we got into this huge fight and haven't talked in a year, but he's been writing this girl who is friends with my friend and she said he wanted to write me and apologize. He is also on his mission, and so I've been waiting, praying, and hoping that he'll write me. Well today when my friend wrote me from the MTC, my mother thought it was the guy who I was in love with and told me that he wrote me.
When she handed me the letter I was stunned, I'd prayed and hoped for a letter for months but with no word. Finally one had arrived, but not really. I was so excited I didn't even look at the letter but just held it, letting my heart race and all of this raw emotion welled up inside me, I thought I was going to burst. But then I did look down, and I saw my friend's name, not...his.
Then more raw emotion came, emotion that I'd been pushing down for a while, and I had to try really, really, hard not to cry. I wouldn't let my parents see me cry, I couldn't. I had to be strong, I had to wait. And I'm still waiting. I was feeling a million different emotions all within a minute and I instantly hated being human. I don't want to wait for this guy, I don't want to hold on to every memory of him like it's a bloody rare Pokemon card. I want to hate him and think he's not worth my time.
But I can't.
October 7, 2010-Butterflies are pure spirits
Pale butter-yellow butterflies. They were so beautiful and happy-making. But I killed them.
I don't know how many I killed, hundreds maybe.
It made me feel awful. They were so innocent, so pure, nearly like children to my heart. But they flew in front of my car.
I wanted to stop, pull over, and be one of them. I wanted to fly away with them. But I just kept driving.
March 2, 2011: Best Piece of Advice
"Today in my English class we had to write a journal about the best advice we'd ever been given. Now maybe it's just me, but my life isn't exactly filled with those wise people that always have phenomenal advice, so nothing popped into my head except for: "Be Unstoppable."
I got that from a cough-drop wrapper."
The Box of Teeth
The Box of Teeth
By Jaime Contrys
He left it at my door.
The gaping hole in
the top of the box
sent shivers down
my spine. I did not
want to look inside,
for fear of what I would
find. Nightmares need
only find me when they
look behind the sign.
He left it on my doorstep,
as easy as can be. He left it
there, he knew I would see
past what only the eye can see.
A lump in my chest but not to panic,
only I can solve this mess.
He left it at my back door, and that was way
too much. The scars on my chest could not
forget, how he’d asked to have some lunch.
The sweat goes in beads down my face, as I
knew not how he found the place. They started
to chatter all in a row, scarring me from head to toe.
I ran to the phone, but the line had been cut. If
only I had known about the silly phone, I may
have saved the mutt.
He left it on my doorstep, the
only one of me. The picture
he took while I shivered and shook,
I'll never be off the hook. His traps
did work and only he knew what it
took for me to look in that stupid box
he put, the empty life of three. Mine
should have joined them, but it was he
that held the key. Tthe only thing that kept
me at bay, was the box of teeth that he had
all in array.
He left it at my door, he did,
he left it at my door. So who
would ask of me, at long last,
of that stupid ol’ box of teeth?
The box of teeth that did not
belong to me, but to the three
that had long been lost, not free.
He left it on my doorstep,
he did, to haunt me one last
try. He left it at my door, he did,
to see if I might cry. He left
it on my doorstep, to see me ask
“Oh why?” He left the box, of three
dead, no-- lost, to sit and spy one
more time.
He left the box of teeth, he did,
to tell me his goodbye.
By Jaime Contrys
He left it at my door.
The gaping hole in
the top of the box
sent shivers down
my spine. I did not
want to look inside,
for fear of what I would
find. Nightmares need
only find me when they
look behind the sign.
He left it on my doorstep,
as easy as can be. He left it
there, he knew I would see
past what only the eye can see.
A lump in my chest but not to panic,
only I can solve this mess.
He left it at my back door, and that was way
too much. The scars on my chest could not
forget, how he’d asked to have some lunch.
The sweat goes in beads down my face, as I
knew not how he found the place. They started
to chatter all in a row, scarring me from head to toe.
I ran to the phone, but the line had been cut. If
only I had known about the silly phone, I may
have saved the mutt.
He left it on my doorstep, the
only one of me. The picture
he took while I shivered and shook,
I'll never be off the hook. His traps
did work and only he knew what it
took for me to look in that stupid box
he put, the empty life of three. Mine
should have joined them, but it was he
that held the key. Tthe only thing that kept
me at bay, was the box of teeth that he had
all in array.
He left it at my door, he did,
he left it at my door. So who
would ask of me, at long last,
of that stupid ol’ box of teeth?
The box of teeth that did not
belong to me, but to the three
that had long been lost, not free.
He left it on my doorstep,
he did, to haunt me one last
try. He left it at my door, he did,
to see if I might cry. He left
it on my doorstep, to see me ask
“Oh why?” He left the box, of three
dead, no-- lost, to sit and spy one
more time.
He left the box of teeth, he did,
to tell me his goodbye.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Words I Can't Forget
"You're not that creative."
But it's all I want to be.
"You looked disgusting."
I would never tell you, my best friend, that.
"You're nothing."
I know you're wrong.
"We're just friends."
Now we're not even that.
"Your laugh is wonderful, I live for it."
This is the best compliment I've ever been given.
"You look good today."
I hadn't ever been told that before by a man.
"You won't graduate."
Proved you wrong, again.
"I don't care about you."
Then why don't you just leave?
"He wanted to save you, to take you away."
The point is that he never did.
"He's dead."
A part of me died with him.
But it's all I want to be.
"You looked disgusting."
I would never tell you, my best friend, that.
"You're nothing."
I know you're wrong.
"We're just friends."
Now we're not even that.
"Your laugh is wonderful, I live for it."
This is the best compliment I've ever been given.
"You look good today."
I hadn't ever been told that before by a man.
"You won't graduate."
Proved you wrong, again.
"I don't care about you."
Then why don't you just leave?
"He wanted to save you, to take you away."
The point is that he never did.
"He's dead."
A part of me died with him.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Life. 4/13/2012
Dear Pig,
I'm not sure about how my life is going right now. My grades are failing, at the end of this semester I'll only be passing 2 out of 5 classes. Which does not make me feel good about myself at all, but I'm just so sick of school! I'm sick of routine, and blah, blah, blah!
My plan is to work, I don't have a job, but I AM GOING TO GET ONE. I'm going to work for a year, and then I'm moving to Oregon. Bandon, Oregon to be exact and I'm taking you with me, Pig. Bri says she wants to go with us, but I know she won't. She wants to finish her degree in Nursing and she's thinking about moving to Provo...blah, blah, blah.
I'm done with school! I'm done with...not living! I'm going to live and be proud and do things and learn a non-conventional way. I'll experience real-life. I'll have hardships and I'll pay bills like rent and utilities and I'll be okay. I'll take care of myself. No, I'll take care of us. We'll have fun in Bandon, Pig, we will. We'll live there for, I'm thinking, seven months. Then we'll come home and stay awhile, and then we'll move again. South Carolina? I'm fine with that. Let's move to Charleston and get a little beach house. That will be beautiful.
Bri is basically my only friend now, besides you of course. But you're a cat.... Anyway, Hal moved and so did Nay. I'm not very good at keeping up with them. I just feel so...detached. I don't know. My relationship will always be complicated with Nay. Mike hates me and I know she'll stay with him forever. She's coming home for the month of May and I can guarantee she'll spend most of her time with him. Like always. Whatever, I guess. I'm nearly to the point of indifference. I kind of...back off from people who leave me. Is that weird? That's one reason why I'm scared for Nich to leave. I can't lose my baby brother!
I'm writing again, Pig. I love it so much! If only I had a true gift of writing...now wouldn't that be something! I could be unstoppable! :) Just kidding. I just wish I could just pull out descriptions and beautiful poetry from no where, but I can't in the words of an ex-friend, Andrew, I'm "just not creative enough." He was such an ass. I liked him for like a year, and I'm still trying to figure out why...? I have no bloody clue.
I'm still not going to church. I want to have that desire, I really do. But. I. Just. Don't. Want. To. I'm awful. Really. Sometimes I tell heavenly father to just kill me and throw me into outer darkness because I'm somewhat of a lost cause.
Pig! I learned how to french braid! Oh I love France! But anyway! French braiding. It is as hard as it looks. My brain could comprehend it, but my fingers just did not! Finally I got it, and today I learned a way to twist my hair, creating a crown like look all the way around my head. I really like it, but I still need a lot of practice. I know it will be cute once I get it down.
Well, it is rather late. 3 AM. Or early to some people I guess.
I love you, Pig.
xoxo
Jamessays.
P.s. The picture is of Bandon, Oregon. :)
I'm not sure about how my life is going right now. My grades are failing, at the end of this semester I'll only be passing 2 out of 5 classes. Which does not make me feel good about myself at all, but I'm just so sick of school! I'm sick of routine, and blah, blah, blah!
My plan is to work, I don't have a job, but I AM GOING TO GET ONE. I'm going to work for a year, and then I'm moving to Oregon. Bandon, Oregon to be exact and I'm taking you with me, Pig. Bri says she wants to go with us, but I know she won't. She wants to finish her degree in Nursing and she's thinking about moving to Provo...blah, blah, blah.
I'm done with school! I'm done with...not living! I'm going to live and be proud and do things and learn a non-conventional way. I'll experience real-life. I'll have hardships and I'll pay bills like rent and utilities and I'll be okay. I'll take care of myself. No, I'll take care of us. We'll have fun in Bandon, Pig, we will. We'll live there for, I'm thinking, seven months. Then we'll come home and stay awhile, and then we'll move again. South Carolina? I'm fine with that. Let's move to Charleston and get a little beach house. That will be beautiful.
Bri is basically my only friend now, besides you of course. But you're a cat.... Anyway, Hal moved and so did Nay. I'm not very good at keeping up with them. I just feel so...detached. I don't know. My relationship will always be complicated with Nay. Mike hates me and I know she'll stay with him forever. She's coming home for the month of May and I can guarantee she'll spend most of her time with him. Like always. Whatever, I guess. I'm nearly to the point of indifference. I kind of...back off from people who leave me. Is that weird? That's one reason why I'm scared for Nich to leave. I can't lose my baby brother!
I'm writing again, Pig. I love it so much! If only I had a true gift of writing...now wouldn't that be something! I could be unstoppable! :) Just kidding. I just wish I could just pull out descriptions and beautiful poetry from no where, but I can't in the words of an ex-friend, Andrew, I'm "just not creative enough." He was such an ass. I liked him for like a year, and I'm still trying to figure out why...? I have no bloody clue.
I'm still not going to church. I want to have that desire, I really do. But. I. Just. Don't. Want. To. I'm awful. Really. Sometimes I tell heavenly father to just kill me and throw me into outer darkness because I'm somewhat of a lost cause.
Pig! I learned how to french braid! Oh I love France! But anyway! French braiding. It is as hard as it looks. My brain could comprehend it, but my fingers just did not! Finally I got it, and today I learned a way to twist my hair, creating a crown like look all the way around my head. I really like it, but I still need a lot of practice. I know it will be cute once I get it down.
Well, it is rather late. 3 AM. Or early to some people I guess.
I love you, Pig.
xoxo
Jamessays.
P.s. The picture is of Bandon, Oregon. :)
Thursday, April 12, 2012
To N.P.C
To N.P.C:
Sometimes I love you so much it's impossible to love another being like that, and like my whole life, I just need to protect you. Even though you're so much bigger than me.
I understand you and your abilities whenever I am given the chance but contrary to what you believe your heart is warm and alive; filled with sunshine and hope. Is that too much? :) It's true.
But that is certainly not the only thing in there.
Your cool exterior shows everyone else what you want to but not me! I know you, I know how to make you laugh.
I know your passion for life and love, that burns hotter than the sun's spots on certain days.
Brother, you are not lost! Even now at five, almost six, in the morning as you search everywhere for toaster strudels and cereal.You're talking to yourself like a mad man "holy crap, am I happy." I can't help but laugh.
Good things can keep on going if you let them, and you will.
Remember to always look to the heavens when hunger strikes and all seems lost, between God and the stars, you will find your way, I promise you that much.
I love you, little brother.
Slowly I'm realizing I can't protect you anymore. I can't throw rocks at bullies or pull girls hair.
We're growing up and I'm sorry about it.
Sometimes I love you so much it's impossible to love another being like that, and like my whole life, I just need to protect you. Even though you're so much bigger than me.
I understand you and your abilities whenever I am given the chance but contrary to what you believe your heart is warm and alive; filled with sunshine and hope. Is that too much? :) It's true.
But that is certainly not the only thing in there.
Your cool exterior shows everyone else what you want to but not me! I know you, I know how to make you laugh.
I know your passion for life and love, that burns hotter than the sun's spots on certain days.
Brother, you are not lost! Even now at five, almost six, in the morning as you search everywhere for toaster strudels and cereal.You're talking to yourself like a mad man "holy crap, am I happy." I can't help but laugh.
Good things can keep on going if you let them, and you will.
Remember to always look to the heavens when hunger strikes and all seems lost, between God and the stars, you will find your way, I promise you that much.
I love you, little brother.
Slowly I'm realizing I can't protect you anymore. I can't throw rocks at bullies or pull girls hair.
We're growing up and I'm sorry about it.
Home Life
Hate envelopes me every timethey open their mouths to speak.
I can't tell which has more heat;
their hate of me or my hate of myself.
A desperate plea runs through my
veins along side my blood and
other vital fluids. It begs me to flee,
it asks me to leave this place.
If only I could grant its wish.
19 and nothing
My wounds become a little deeper every day,
The fear of being nothing more unbearable than ever.
May today be the day of change.
May today be the day I change.
The fear of being nothing more unbearable than ever.
May today be the day of change.
May today be the day I change.
Wind?
Is it really so awful, the wind?It's haunting howls give me peace.
As it goes from town to town ripping
up the earth and flinging it into
the air, I can't help but wonder,
when or where does it stop?
Does it eventually swindle into
nothing but a breath or does it
just stop so abrupt, we wonder if
God himself had shut the lid?
I love the wind. It rips me about
whipping my hair in my face until
my eyes water and my nose
bleeds. It picks me up and asks
me if I'd like to fly.
But I always say no and go inside.
Alone
Without
Any
Air.
Without any wind.
Memories
Haiku 1:
Joyful mid-day rays,
Beam into the ocean's surface,
stirring up old dust.
Haiku 2:
The cool silky breeze
With ghostly moths one spring night,
Reawakening the past.
Joyful mid-day rays,
Beam into the ocean's surface,
stirring up old dust.
Haiku 2:
The cool silky breeze
With ghostly moths one spring night,
Reawakening the past.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
The Wild in Me
across my heart, throwing off the
poachers. Who are on the quest to
capture precious ivory tusks.
Even then the bandits
steal the rubies from
my treasure chest. They
gloat with an incurable glee.
It won't be long until
I'm a vast empty nothingness.
The ghosts will still visit me,
they scare away the flies.
It doesn't matter that people leave.
I'll find myself again in the ocean
I'll linger for a moment
With sea glass of every color.
Or be in a rain forest
with florescent frogs and snakes.
The wild birds will stay,
and bury me with star-gazer lilies.
Monkeys will braid my hair and
Lions will wash my face with rose-oil.
I'll be a goddess forever and ever,
in the infinity of now.
Life as of 1-22-12
Dear Voldemort,
I've been thinking about a lot of things lately, well, basically just thinking a lot today. I don't know what I want to do! Sure college is good for now but I want to travel! I want to live in Paris and speak French and...be french. I am a quarter French...doesn't that count? I do want to travel all over though, not just to Paris. But I'm scarred that I won't be able to. Want to know the reason why? Message me. I'll tell you all about it.
I'm scarred about writing too. I'm afraid that it won't be a suitable career and that I won't be able to take care of my mother. What would you have me do? I don't know. Sometimes I yearn for the life of having everything planned out for me so I don't have to make any decisions. Not very American of me, aye?
I've been crying through movies a lot too. Last night I watched The Guardian with Ashton Kutcher and Kevin Costner. Gosh, I love that movie! It makes me bawl like a friggin' baby though! Oh, and the night before, I watched Letters to Juliet with Amanda Seyfried. I love that movie. It's so cute and it makes me cry too. I'm kind of a hopeless romantic. I wish it just wasn't so hopeless.
Well, it's 1:30 AM and I'm going to bed. Good night, Voldy.
<3
James
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