Conjunction Girl

(sometimes you just need to write the crappy poem... so i'm sorry the following is nothing of literary merit, but its raw and honest, and sometimes i think its okay that poetry is just that)

conjunction girl

she was always paired up;

him and her, all of them together.

you are both important,

i love you and also her

i chose them, yet you are still here.

i was betrayed, and i turn to you.

you are special, but not as much;

you make me happy, but they do too.

i could spend the day with you or her,

i would be happy either way.

but i say that you're precious for 

the tears in your eyes compel

me to claim "i need you, i swear!"

and turn around to choose them instead.

what she really wants is to be necessary.

to stand alone,

to be irreplaceable

on her own.

-k

The Beast

panic.

the waves of terror smashed into her at the most peaceful or happy of times. maybe it wasn't actually a wave of terror, because with waves, you can see them coming, you can anticipate the destruction. no, this was like a tornado or a hurricane, and there was no predicting, no preparing, no escaping.

the only thing that warned her of the attack were the few, small, unexplained tears that leaked out of her eyes and kept coming and coming, despite her intentions to make them stop. we're in a public place, you can't do this here. this can't happen here. but of course terror doesn't listen to reason or pleading. and she knew that if she wanted to make this so-called "Most Wonderful Time of the Year" enjoyable for anyone else, she would have to run and take the tornado with her.

so she ran. she fled as far as she could before the tornado touched the earth before she would be trapped in the terror that she knew would inevitably engulf her. finding a small, dark cave, she huddled there.

no one would find her tucked away in the belly of the earth. here, the storm could come and it would affect her, only her, and that was okay. so she let the storm in.

the terror whipped her up into sobs and cries of anguish as her emotions turned against her. anxiety ravaged her brain as she crumpled up, shaking and rocking and crying. sometimes the cries were small and hushed and stuck in her ribcage, like small hail stones that ripped and cut. sometimes the cries were loud and painful and all she could do was to hold tight to her chair as the fear poured out of her mouth and eyes and nose and ears and heart. sometimes the rain stopped and she gasped in low, shallow breaths. she could never get enough oxygen, god, why was this happening? why couldn't she get enough air? it took everything inside of her to replenish the oxygen that was being used up by the terrors controlling her, to feed it enough to keep the fear form completely engulfing her. she began to chant quiet calming songs from last year in an attempt to wrench back some of her rogue emotions. "o magnum mysterium et admirabile sacramentum o magnum mysterium..." for some reason it worked. she was regaining control.

it didnt make sense. fear was something to spur her on, to be felt and acknowledged but always to be conquered. fear was standing on the ledge of the bungee cord course and hearing the girl next to you start to panic. she felt the fear rise up and start to overcome her.... no. it could be conquered. she grabbed the girl's arm and sprinted off the platform into thin air.

she knew the fear of the unknown, when someone she trusted betrayed her and now she was on her own again. but that was okay. she would simply take everything she had inside her and throw it at the fear blocking her way. that was a good fear, a testing fear. a hard fear, but a constructive fear, one one that proved she was made of more than she thought she was.

this was an entirely new kind of fear. the familiar first fear came from inside. it was made up of the insecure, selfish, dark parts of her, but it was still her. this fear was more. it was engulfing. it was destroying. and all she could think as the winds of terror picked up again was, "i didn't want this. i didn't ask for this. this isn't me." she began to rock back and forth in her chair to reassure herself that she had a small, insignificant amount of control over the storm. but it raged on.

"jacentem precepio o magnum mysterium..."

the worst part was, when the storm finally passed, when the beast finally released her from its darkened, dripping claws, nobody believed her. no one could see the poison from the beast that now coursed through her veins, turning her skin white and the bags beneath her eyes purple. no one tried to comprehend that she was not herself, instead dismissing it as stress or overwork. "you've been spreading yourself too thin," they said, "you need to cut down a little." "it's only emotions. just be happy." "just will it to go away." and she gazed at the world with eyes filled with the beast, and spoke with lips sore from trying to explain to lead ears. she ran away again, grabbed a pen, and began to write.

"panic. the waves of terror smashed into her..."

-k

To Hold Back

I took an oddly perceptive personality test, and along with the many things they told me about myself that I didn't realize until it was put into words, they mentioned that I am a extroverted person and I make friends with extroverted people really easily, but I'm also someone that will pursue an introverted person to the ends of the earth and slowly break down their barriers, while keeping a respectful distance and distracting them with fun stories and smiles and interesting things that are special to me. I've found that if I want to know more about someone, the best thing to do is to trust them with things that are interesting or important or a little painful about me, and then they know they can trust me enough to share a little about themselves. But this test also said that the hardest thing for people like me to take is to feel unimportant.

I guess this is true especially right now... I'm in an odd place of transition right now, an in-between, and I was so used to feeling important and useful and needed, and now I honestly can't say that if I were to go join the wolves, I would be irreplaceable. I guess that's what I need to know. I need someone to make me feel like they wouldn't know how to cope for a while if I were to drop off the face of the earth.

I guess another, less morbid way to say it is that I have an abundance of feelings and emotions and love in my heart. I want to share it so much with so many people, and sometimes I find one person who I know I wouldn't be able to replace if they shunned me, and all I want to do is to pour myself continually and continually into that person, to shower them with loving looks and little moments of connection and small gifts like pebbles from brooks and paper cranes and tiny flowers. But because I'm someone who tends to end up with introverted people as my closest friends, I know that would scare them off. I know it would make them overwhelmed and uncomfortable. 

And I know that if I let this dam loose that I've built up to hold my emotions and feelings and love towards someone, it will also let all the bad things out too. Things from my past, things that are happening right now. Feelings of betrayal and loneliness and desperation and neediness that I don't want to put on someone else who has their own issues and problems to deal with. I feel like everyone else's lives are hard enough without dealing with my stuff too. 

It's not like this all the time... it's just once in a while. I just need to find outlets... places to love other people or animals who need love more than anything, so I won't scare them or be too intense and freak them out. So I hold back, and sometimes the dam stretches and cracks and hurts and burns, but I know that if I just rebuild it, if I constantly keep my feelings from the world, it will be okay.

-k

Letter to Me

Here is a letter I had to write to myself at the beginning of the year for my very dumb Integration class. Luckily, I am done with the class now, so I thought it would be interesting to open the letter. It amused me.

Hello me,

I am a freshman at CCU. Freshmen are annoying. They don't have any idea what is happening. I have no idea what is happening. Help me.

There are a lot of unknowns in my life right now-- about my job, my extra-curriculars, who will my best friend here be? Will I ever overcome my fear of relationships? Hopefully some of those unknowns will be resolved by the time you open this, otherwise you are royally screwed right now, Kira Lange. 

I think the biggest thing I'm scared about school-wise is the fact that I got 100% on my first English paper. Basically, that means the only way to go is down. Please don't fall too far. I like being up here. 

I also miss having a cat. If you don't feel the same way, you are no longer Kira and you have been replaced by an alien life form. Die, alien scum.

<3 Kira

-k

An Awkward Story

Just because life is stressful right now and I need a laugh, so I'm assuming you need one as well, and some of my recent stuff has been kind of serious, today I am going to tell you the story about the most beautiful guy ever, and how I drove him away.

The beautiful guy on the far left is Caleb Heinritz. He is the guy. Yeah. I know.

I had been going to this pretty big youth group that encompassed pretty much all of Waukesha County for a few months, on and off, but fairly consistently. He was a senior youth. He was beautiful. He had a deep personal relationship with God. He was athletic and smart and he had the CUTEST hair that had ever existed (it was different back then.. not so flynn rider-ish. he was cute then, he's drop dead gorgeous now). All the girls were totally into him, and I'm like, wow, I would never have any chance with him. He's so incredibly hot. So I never really tried to talk to him or flirt or anything, both because at that time (and still currently), I had no flirting skills whatsoever. 

And then, at our youth group Christmas Party, everything changed. I was looking dang fine, for once, and we all got together and mixed up and talked. At one point, I sneezed into my shoulder, discreetly, like a lady, and then kept going on my way. We all partnered up, and lo and behold, I was paired up with the legendary Caleb Heinritz. He was engaging. I was sugared up so I had enough energy to converse with someone so so far out of my league. It was an amazing conversation. We talked about life, and God's place in our destiny, and what our futures would be like, and our interests and hobbies, and school and people and love and laughter. He was so PRESENT in the conversation, like, I don't think he broke my eye contact unless I was being awkward and looking down myself. It was wonderful. I was smitten. And then we stopped having our little discussion time and I walked over to brag (a little... i mean, it was CALEB HEINRITZ) to my cousins who were standing around the concessions table, and I started gushing, when my cousin stopped me. "What is that on your shoulder?" she asked. I glanced down, and smeared into my shirt was the biggest wad of snot you have ever seen. It had been perched there all night, through all my discussions, and most importantly, with my conversation with Caleb Heinritz. My life was over. 

And that is the story of how I died. 

Patchwork Girl

she was a chameleon. she stayed the same inside, her core was a golden, strong orb, hard and pure and bright, but she found it was nice to take things she admired from the people around her. she had the wings of a leader, not afraid to fly and brave the heat of the burning sun for the chance to see the world at its most beautiful. she had the eyes of her best friend, able to look at the world in wisdom and in its best light, a gift she earned from years and years of silently observing and admiring. her sister had such giving hands, she even managed to give the Patchwork Girl her generosity itself. she had the smile of a carefree woman, the dance of a small child, the fight of an old father. her mother gave her the mouth of patience, her brother the heart of sensitivity, her enemy gave her the choke of fear. the singers gave her passion, the storytellers gave her tears of happiness. he gave her the words to be strong. i wonder if she's more made up of the core that is purely her, or the people around her. i wonder if it really matters.

-k

The Moon Was Red

I've been trying to expand my writing skills, and a lot of times I'll think of certain scenes that would work great in a book, but when I sit down to actually sit down to write the book that is kind of in my head, I'm not able to connect the scenes into a seamless story. Also, sometimes situations happen to me that I think are too weird or incredible not to write down, but they wouldn't really be able to take up a whole blog post. Anyways, this is just an experimentation with writing a story in third person, so if I think of more disjointed scenes, I'll throw them here, but I'll still write the old style as well. Obviously you'll be able to tell from what point of view I'm writing it from. 

She wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders to fend off the night’s chill and the dampness of the grass. The moon was turning a deep blood red, which was oddly beautiful, yet creepy at the same time. He was standing next to her with a pair of ridiculous binoculars, trying to see the phenomenon more closely. She looked up at him, trying to be discrete, but he caught her staring and smiled at her, offering the binoculars so she could see as well. She attempted to find the moon in the sky, which shouldn’t have been hard as it was large and red, but apparently that was too difficult a task for her, and she started laughing. “I can’t find it,” she giggled, “My glasses are too thick, I can’t see anything through this contraption.” He came up behind her, putting his large hands over her cold, small ones and tried to show her how to make the very simple binoculars function correctly. She stopped breathing. She could feel the warmth of him so close to her she could practically hear his heart beating. As she let out a shaky breath, she started laughing to hide any chance that he could see the effect he had on her. Laughing and looking through binoculars don't mix very well, so she shoved them back at her before he could do something else to make her heart beat faster, and ducked her head. She was so thankful that it was cold outside and it was mostly dark, so that her flushing cheeks would be hidden from his incredibly blue eyes. She stepped back from him and adjusted her blanket to mask her nervousness, and he shot her a grin as he sat back down next to his girlfriend. 

-k