Kick Drum Heart


The waltz

Peering through fine silver dust

Glitter-dance upon the air

Gold-painted eyes in masquerade

She wonders if they care.

Together they twirl merrily

Dizzy partners no one knows

Her mask stays up, so permanent

The ballroom twirls; it goes, it goes.

Spinning rush, a pirouette

The laugh, it’s fake, but she?

She’s gliding, whirling, one more time

Waltz with Society.



Why, that’s absurd (Blogging at 5:00 AM on a Sunday from a shitty, borrowed laptop)

I don’t know if there’s a better reason for being up this early other than I can’t fall back to sleep, but I didn’t want to take the chance that there was. It sounds stupid, but I don’t want to miss a thing… I’m reading The Irresistible Revolution right now and Brendan was right, it does change you. Already I am searching hard at my life, looking for ways that God can use me. I have the inkling I’m looking a little too closely, but I’d rather try and look too hard than not at all. Although, isn’t God the one who will find service and drop it in my lap? See, I don’t know. So I’m confused and starting to get eye and soul strain, here.

Oh, and I think I was trying to text in my sleep again. Cait wasn’t here last night to check on me, but I woke up and my phone was next to me instead of shoved back way under my pillow, so I was moving around pretty forcefully, at least.

I love sleep. I don’t want to give up sleeping because I act like a moron and can’t stop from growling out names and trying to contact people in the dead of the night. How absurd.

The word “absurd” makes me think of “Titanic,” and Rose. “Why that’s absurd!”

I wish I had a Jack (preferably one that wouldn’t sink). I think he’d be a lot of fun, and he’d think I was fun too so there would be no issue. He wouldn’t be too hesistant or too much of a whore. He would want to talk to me or screw me in a car, depending on the moment. We’d have a lot of good times. He wouldn’t expect commitment or a solemn vow of dedication and devotion– he would adore me in the moment, just as I would him. He would understand that there was only one life to live and enjoy, and he’d want to spend a few short moments of his with me.

That, to me, is the perfect balance in a guy. Not too flighty, so I think I’m cheap, but not that willing to settle down, either. I don’t want to feel trapped. I don’t want to have to spend every waking moment thinking about one person and how they feel and what they think and how best to please them. I want, for once, for someone to want to please me but not want to commit to anything serious. I thought boys liked to be considerate sluts?

I’m not saying I want someone for a fuck-and-run. I don’t want to spend time with a guy I can’t respect or have a decent conversation with. But there should be some kind of happy medium, an easy chemistry that doesn’t require too much input from either of us. I want a friend who likes to kiss me, I guess. Haha.

Whatever, I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m probably not posting this. At least not until eight o’ clock, anyway. I might go back to sleep. God will find me, I hope. Or else I’ll keep searching, just not when I’m on six hours of sleep on a Sunday morning. Good night.



“This is so trippy”

…that’s what Katie’s saying about Sonic the Hedgehog right now, anyhow.

What a day it’s been. My head is still working, grinding out new thoughts and ideas that I can’t really keep straight. Katie’s done a lot to help me with them, though. If you ever need someone to talk to (not that I’m advertising her to creep-asses) she’s your girl.

She’s going to start blogging again, too. I showed her how I revamped mine (I was so proud, haha) and now she’s excited. I am, too. Her brilliance should be make public for sure.

It’s magnificence can be located here. Anyone who’s reading this is highly advised to check it out :)

After Trank leaves today, I’m going to go have some fun. A form of stress relief, if you will. Today’s been filled with many pressing issues and I’m just sick to death of having my mind whirring away at me. So, I’m going out (but eventually into a house) and I’m going to enjoy an evening without reservations and without regrets. Therapeutic pizza-baking can only take one so far, you know.

At least, that’s how I hope the evening is going to play out. I’m just so bogged down with new and controversial ideas. I need to shake it off. It’s not that I mind thinking: I certainly don’t. But when it’s constant and unrelenting and heavy, that’s when I start to think I need a distraction.

Here’s to getting my mind off of things. Cheers.