Lay me in a bed of snow, I'll melt it all away.

A month has passed since my last post. Some things have changed and some things have not. The most significant change to the eye would of course be the weather. Snow and ice surround me now, in the place of the fall leaves and crisp smells that were here a month ago. I remember my first post, sitting in this exact same spot, listening to the exact same song, with the exact same people on my mind. Only today, my curtains are closed, along with the door that leads to my balcony, and no wind is welcome to come blustering through. Today, I don't need to find comfort in the beauty that is fall. I am sheltered from the cold and I am warm from the inside out. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, I feel that I am progressing. I feel that for once I am beginning to make sense of my world, where I want my place in the world to be, who i want to have in my world, and the things I need to do to acheive what I want. I am not afraid anymore. Although the past month brought a change in the weather, making it cold and bitter, I still look out my window and think the snow is stunning. Plato has a famous quote that reads, "At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet," all I want to do right now is write about the person who has come into my life, and turned everything to gold for me. I see myself in him, and he makes me feel beautiful, everyday. He brings out everything good in me that I have, and i feel like I have more good to give everyday. I realize that I am running the risk of sounding extremely ineffictive, but my lack of propper explanation comes straight from being completely enamored by this person; so much as to make me speechless. Just place me in the last five mintues of Garden State. *** I am so in love ***

REHEARSAL -- darling, you are so unoriginal.

My head pounds.
I have two and a half hours before I have to go to work at the club. The Trasheteria to be precise.
I take off the jeans that have been uncomfortable all day...I like the word vexatious instead...and put on a new pair of lounge pants I bought today. I know realistically it is a bad idea, because it will make me getting ready for work that much more difficult, but I do it anyways.
Now I am under my covers, flipping through iTunes.
I never know what to choose. But since it feels like my brain is pounding against my skull in an attempt to break free, I think I will listen to a little Pedro the Lion, soothe the soul and recount a true story in which a little freedom came just at the right time.

Friendship is truly one of the most precious of connections in this life, at least in my opinion. To meet and connect with other people and build foundations of trust and allegiance is what gives a person substance in life. Happiness flourishes in numbers, and memories are what we live by everyday. The bond between friends is unconditional; an unconditional love. However, some friendships become erratic or volatile. Perhaps the friend you thought you had was not a friend at all, but a foe. An opponent, an adversary, a rival.

Somebody I have the utmost love and respect for had been crushed to the point of crumbling to ruins in a situation which affected both of our lives greatly. Friends turned foes; and the anguish was drowning him. However insignificant the situation will prove to be, the possibility of moving on without a fight seemed slim to none. I received a late night telephone call, in an area with little service, from my friend who had just been at the David Bazan concert in Toronto. Sitting on a cold linoleum bathroom floor, knees up and head rested on them, I traced the pattern on the floor over and over and over, digesting the emotion coming from the other end of the line. I wasn't sure of my heart had ever beat that fast, I could feel the pain of my friend so strongly, and struggled for something comforting to say. I knew nothing would make his sadness subside, and nothing would take the rage from his fists. I listened to how his escape to this concert was ruined like everything else in his life. I listened to the hate that filled his voice. I understood his anger, friends are supposed to be forever. To parallel your life with somebody elses, and then have them turn it upside down is a terrible helpless feeling. At a moment during our conversation, my friend stopped, he said "oh my God, David Bazan is right in front of me." David Bazan is the singer/songwriter from the band Pedro The Lion. That musician had been with my friend and I through years of our lives, the most significant of times. A complete and total inspiration, especially to my friend who is a musician himself. David Bazan writes the kind of music that you feel as much as you hear it. Every lyric to every song has meaning, and there he was. The phone was muffled and the next thing I knew, I was speaking on the telephone to David Bazan. With a loss for words the only thing I could think was "holy shit" and "why did he give him the phone?!" I knew that Bazan was my friends #1 inspiration and that this moment would be so important to him. My friend got back on the phone and said "Katelyn you just talked to David Bazan on the phone, and that is because I love you." Then, I watched a tear land on that cold linoleum floor. I cried, and he laughed. The first laugh to emerge out of a phone call filled with screams, and pleas. Freedom. A moment as significant as talking to your favorite rockstar on the phone, or shaking his hand and thanking him for his music, brought us back to the surface. For a beautiful cleansing moment we just sat on the phone and breathed. I knew he was smiling, and he knew I was smiling. A moment perhaps only significant to the two of us, but it was all we needed for that instant, and it will be a memory we will cherish forever. My friend and I will be free from the betrayal we have been faced with, and in the end we will Rejoice.

Wouldn't it be so wonderful
if everything were meaningless.
But everything is so meaningful,
and most everything turns to shit.
Rejoice

--Pedro The Lion


Love you RTD

Miss Sunflower

I used to keep a journal. Somebody told me the other day that blogging was stupid. That everyone should just keep their own thoughts in their own journal, ideally for nobody to find. So I picked up my journal hoping to find something written with conviction. Something that would catch me off guard and be perfect for right now, in this blog entry. I picked up the newest journal I had. It was made by a good friend by hand and given to me as a birthday gift by another girlfriend. The first page I opened to had this written:
"NO PEEKING"
I replied, "Hm."

Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park, She wants to play a game of hearts.

I wanted my first post to explain the title of my blog, but I have been putting it off because it means a lot of things to me. How can I do this...

fall (fôl)

v. fell (fl), fall·en (fôln), fall·ing, falls

v.intr.

1. To drop or come down freely under the influence of gravity.

2. To drop oneself to a lower or less erect position

3. a) To lose an upright or erect position suddenly.

b) To drop wounded or dead, especially in battle.

4. To go or come as if by falling

5. To come to rest; settle.

6. To hang down

7. To be cast down

8. To assume an expression of consternation or disappointment

9. To undergo conquest or capture, especially as the result of an armed attack

10. a) To experience defeat or ruin

b) To lose office

11. To slope downward

12. a) To lessen in amount or degree

b) To decline in financial value

13. To diminish in pitch or volume

14. a) To give in to temptation; sin.

b) To lose one's chastity.

15. To pass into a particular state, condition, or situation: fell silent; fall in love.

16. To occur at a specified time

17. To occur at a specified place

18. To come, as by chance

19. a) To be given by assignment or distribution

b) To be given by right or inheritance.

20. To be included within the range or scope of something.

21. To come into contact; strike.

22. To apply oneself

NOUN: fall - the season when the leaves fall from the trees


It is not suprising to me that such a beautiful season can bring about certain emotions, however it maybe posess a bit of irony in it's name. The word fall has many contradicting ways it can be used. People can fall in or out of love, for example, which goes from one extreme emotion to the next. But I guess it all just comes down to losing your footing, finding yourself in a state different from before. Like a leaf changing from green to orange, falling from the branch it so comfortably held onto for so long. That little leaf falls without any control, and its so beautiful when it does. My heart is falling right along with that little leaf, and I can only hope that somebody finds it, picks it up and keeps it safe.

The Objective Case Of I

It seems as though my inspiration for starting a blog has left me as quickly as it came. It's hard to completely put yourself out there to the world in your own creative way when you don't know who is reading or if your own type of creativity is being appreciated. There is a fine line between sililoquy and monologue and i think I am riding that line. To me a blog is a tricky way of self-discovery or reflection, because as much as people are being open/honest/raw, they are writing for people to read and are therefore projecting themselves in a way that they want to be perceived by the outside world. It leaves me wondering if I am really doing this for me. I have always evaluated my worth through the opinions that other people have of me, and it is a sort of flaw that I am trying to overcome. I have based my happiness on how happy I make other people for as long as my mind can recall and I would love to find comfort in just me. I have to figure out who me is first, whether that ever really happens for anyone, whoever is reading this is taking that journey with me.

Me and Vinyl, Hand in Hand

There is a particular song that I haven't been able to shake since I first heard it months ago. It is one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard and it holds deep meaning with me right now. I want to leave an abbreviated version of the lyrics here, and dedicate them to a best friend who I will continue to share the worst and best of times with, and a best friend lost under circumstances far out of my reach. Please take a listen if you have yet to hear it.
.
The Wolves (Act I and II) -- Bon Iver
.
Someday my pain
Someday my pain will mark you
Harness your blame
Harness your blame, walk through
.
With the wild wolves around you
In the morning, I'll call you
Send it farther on
.
Solace my game
Solace my game, it stars you
Swing wide your crane
Swing wide your crane and run me through
.
And the story's all over you
In the morning, I'll call you
Can't you find a clue
When your eyes are all painted Sinatra blue
.
What might have been lost
Don't bother me
What might have been lost
Don't bother me.

"Untitled First Blog Post"

My bedroom has a balcony, on the highest floor of the house that I live in. It seemed ideal when I was a smoker to choose this room, the convinience and privacy to enjoy a ciggarette right ouside, and at night a half-decent view of the lights downtown. When I quit smoking the balcony proved to serve less of a purpose, but today it's perfect. I sit in my room with the balcony door swung open to let in a fall breeze that brings with it something refreshing. My curtains are blowing and I wouldn't mind a bit if a storm of orange and red and yellow fall leaves came blustering through. There is something about the autumn season that takes me away. I couldn't have been taken away at a better time. I was taken guard for being taken for granted, which left me taken aback. But I am taken by a boy, who takes my breath away, and would never leave me taken down.