That is just gorgeous. ~Kat
That is just gorgeous. ~Kat
The joy at seeing what we can do when we put our minds to it. And the joy of being blessed by God. ~Kat
I have never stopped wanting to answer your questions that I never answered. ~Kat
Unearthing those feelings I’ve kept locked deep inside, to let the music flow, brought rich, dark music to my soul. Alive again as the night outside my windshield let me cry. The first time I’ve cried like that in years, welling up out of my soul. Now that it’s open, I found this place, that had been there all along, a part of me, I acknowledged, but tried not to let it eat away inside of me. Time and time again I have wanted to reach out and touch you, say a word or two, let you know all those things that I never said.
Today my music changed, because I sent out my message to you. I heard raw emotions from my voice, that I haven’t heard like that before. It was my message to you. One you might never hear. Eight long years it’s been, and I still wish that I could have a word with you. I didn’t realize I loved you, but now it’s unmistakeable. How could I have not known? I hid it from myself as I did from everyone else for way too long. But as the feelings linger on, I wish I could say what I have longed to say. Seeing your face on the television screen, or one that looks just like you, makes it raw and fresh as a daisy’s bottom. I wish I could wrap my arms around you, and tell you how it was, what you missed, and what you didn’t see.
Leaving like that, wasn’t part of the program. It wasn’t the part I wanted to play. If I would have known and understood those moments would be my last, I would have told you, so many things that I wanted to say, and still do now. You should have known what I was going through, what it brought me too, and what just wasn’t true. But lastly, I wish I could have would have at least said I love you.
Copyright Kat Lyons
Picture Reblog: psychodelic
The world is dressed in costume, the children walking house to house….She has been watching the world go by, in her room. Pneumonia got her in it’s throes, all month long, worsening as the month is nearly gone. Flowers and candies, music, her melodies on her mind…They keep her company, as the clock ticks right on by. Her melodies they live and thrive, humming them she hears, they’ve reached a level she loves and adores. Now she longs to hear her music on a C.D., just so that she can hear it streaming through the air.
Rocking to and fro, swimming in the abyss, fever, cold, aches, barely able to walk, and pain everywhere….A flu that never ends, ceaseless in it’s tirade, with a heavy dose of feeling bad, more then a normal flu does…Day in and day out this pain, yet she looks upon loveliness. Things that she has only dreamed, have now become reality. One dream down, many more to go. She begins to contemplate about the other dreams in her mind. Some are little. Some are not so small. But now she knows, they can be had; for one of them came true. And so it’s time now to believe, and to set down the steps in reaching these. Watching the flowers grow in amongst the stepping stones…Her mothers’ eyes all aglow, her skin getting clearer and brighter, more young still, stripping away the years, as the smiles now cross her soul.
Unpacking and unpacking, where does this go, and where does that? Rummaging and finding things in boxes put away years ago….The bed welcomes her in it’s arms, a downey soft. It knows she’s ill. It warms her and is thrilled, to be used, to be needed, to be recognized for it’s comfort which it gives.
The crowded rooms, lines of friends coming to and fro, one box after another, have gone their way. Now it is time to imagine, time to spin, time to just be.
Copyright Kat Lyons
She has been hungry, longing to suffer less, to give more, to create and do, to be, to become, and to feel empowered. She has a strange way of looking at life. For she realized that there was a vast uncharted territory for that which has not been discovered or created. Therefore instead of looking to the age old wisdom which drops from their lips like honeycomb, she instead would stare blindly like a deer in the headlights, and turn left or right, away from the dissent. Then she would go about her business. Now this has caused her some distress, for risk does not always mean reward. This was one of her mistakes. She assumed that if she risked, and risked, and risked, for love, for the ideal of love in art and creation as an assignment from God, then the reward would have to come. She did not believe that fail was an actual word to be used in her vocabulary. But fail she did. For one risk was too high. She fell. And in doing so she learned something about risk. You must take into consideration what would happen if you did not succeed, in whatever endeavor in which you are risking it all for. Could you stand it? For if not, then the risk is too high.
But life went on.
Blaring voices, screeching cars, lights from the cop cars turning, a barren room in the dark, her hands over her ears, the pressure building, inside her emotions collide.
But the sun came out, and it all went away. She landed in a new life with new dreams, ones which she hadn’t even considered. Wiping her eyes she could suddenly see again.
Never in a million years did she think that she would be here, in this spot, in this year. She thought she had it all planned, properly. Well not exactly. She knew, she knew that it didn’t all add up to two. But she decided to stop crying over spilled milk, and instead to make a lemon merinque pie out of all of the lemons on the ground.
And so she will get to open her shutters and watch the sun stream through. Her suffering is seemingly over, the worst of it that is. Her clothes had been in tatters, her hair as long as a horse. Now she gets to live again.
The papers are sky high, for they are all calling her. Fill out this and fill out that! It’s as if they noticed that she needed to run and they want to stop her. Because of this, they will make the move much more difficult then it had to be. Going from one errand to the next…This is why she insisted on a few days to rest. Because now it is time to run a race. She is at the starting line. The gun goes off, and she looks down the field as she feels air underneath her feet, as she passes by.
Copyright Kat Lyons
Picture Source: glitter-graphics.com
Picture Source: moodswingsonthenet
All she wanted was love, and girly things. It seemed like such a difficult equation for others to comprehend. Because they put her in a category, of being a nerd. They thought she wouldn’t like pretty things. They thought she lacked style. When it is simply that is all she was forced to wear. Becoming a pretty girl in high school, her mother really wanted to dress her conventionally. These are the things that mattered for so many years.
But as time passed by, what began to matter, is the love that she had never understood was there waiting for her taking. She didn’t understand her mothers’ love. It was invisible to her. But once she was able to take off the wrapping, it blinded her eyes. She always wanted her step sisters love, and her daddy’s love. She wanted to have a family. She wanted to be adored. But this didn’t come her way through them. So she found adoration elsewhere.
She found those who looked up to her, who were jealous of her, who saw her as powerful. She thrived in this environment, because it allowed her talent to be set free. She could develop magic that she saw in her minds’ eye. It took patience, diligence, and work. But it felt satisfying because she was creating something.
But this disappeared into thin air. It was as if the accomplishments were dissolved into societies leanings, television, and music videos, adapted to what she herself had personally invented and developed through the years. They stole her ideas like candy. So many years spent creating something wonderful, all to have it snatched up and to disappear. But she still has her soul, her spirit, the memory.
She learned the hard way that her ideas were something which others would take for granted, and use. She should be a millionaire. Her ideas changed society as we know it today. But her name is not known. No one cared how long it took for her to create it. So this time, she knows, to keep it to herself, until it’s done, until it’s wrapped up in pretty paper, with her name on it, officially in the book, written down. This time she knows, not to show, not to tell, what she has left. For she has given her life for these ideas. It’s her life and her intellectual property. If no one likes it, she will still create it. If they love it, she will thrive. Either way, she’s got to get there. But she is here.
She used to think that life was created by just a few steps. Now she realizes that the future is never here. For it is always now. And “there,” is such a distance from “here.” But her melodies sounding like they do presently to her ears, was so far away then. So she knows if she just keeps taking one step after another, she has a chance of getting there.
But today is today, and today has it’s limits. Yet today also has it’s beauty. And in that is where she has chosen to live.
Copyright Kat Lyons
Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, full of sadness. I did not want to be here. Another day in this place that I am trying my darndest to leave. I just couldn’t take it. But I got up. Then my kitty cheered me up. That seems to be her job, and she’s pretty good at it too. Even though I am due to move next month, it seems surreal. Like is it really going to happen? There are people applying for where I live now. And they’re fighting over it. So that’s a good thing. But it’s not done until it’s done, until they have their name on the dotted line. Then it’s done. So I wait. Wait for another week to go by, when I can begin to transport my things over to the new place. But I don’t have enough people to help move yet. What do I do? I’m so picky now a days. Growing up does that to you. Or at least it did that to me. Because I learned things, important things. Like if their pupils become pin dots, do not let them help you move. And if they hang around large groups of people on a regular basis, that’s probably a bad thing too. Because even if they’re the nicest people in the world, somebody in that crowd is going to be up to no good. And it’s best they don’t have your address, nor a peak inside at whatever you are moving into the house. No not a good idea, sorry to those who wished to help. So what do I do? I don’t know yet. That is the bliss of life, sometimes.
Meanwhile I have other things to worry about, like practicing singing, and memorizing a song. I need to bring back some clothes. I have to get to UPS and send them back. For some reason this is so much harder then it looks. But that’s just me. See, I had a few things happen to my head, called poisoning. So the little things, like getting somewhere, anywhere, is so much harder then it is for a normal person. But I digress…Oh but I must explain. There are pieces missing. There are pieces which are whole. I can still do some things, and not others. That’s just the way it is. It’s my life to figure out how to work around these obstacles. It’s called brain damage. I know I don’t seem like it. I’ve been told that I am intelligent. I hope so. I was a genius before all of this happened. But now I am pieces of a whole. And it is in what pieces that work that I am sewing together my life. But the pieces missing, just make everything that much harder.
I remember the day that I was living in a cabin in the country. It was the old depot. There was a knock on my door. A man explained to me that I had been being poisoned for two years, and the water had gases and chemicals in it, btex, tuolomene, to name just two. He handed me some free water jugs filled with bottled water for drinking. He handed me some papers with information on it, and told me that I would need to stay in a hotel down the road for a few days. They would pay the bill, and it was already done and ready for me. Here was the key.
As I stood there stunned, everything made sense, it came together. The suffering, the fainting spells at work where I had to run into the bathroom and lean on the wall to hold me up, my head spinning, and this feeling that was like I was being knocked out. I had to stand there, and revive myself enough to go back to work. And the time at the refrigerator, when everything started to black out… I couldn’t see very much, as my eyesight became quickly covered in black, like a hole that was closing in on itself. I ran for the door outside and made it to the chair on the porch. I was scared that I was going to die. Since I didn’t know what was happening to me, I figured that I had a chance to be found if I could make it to that chair. If I passed out inside, it might take them too long to find me. I could die. I might. I didn’t know what was happening. But I was woozy and my eyes were quickly losing the ability to see. When I made it to the chair, my life flashed before my eyes. Why had I been so sick for so many years? I could barely keep anything down. I was woozy as a daily event. Something was wrong. But no one would listen to me. And here I was going to die. I thought about my boyfriend that I had at the time. We’d been going out for several years. All of the times that he was mean, and would tear me down, all of the times that he made me cry, and tried to tell me that I was wrong about everything, anything, no matter what choices that I made in my own life, no matter what classes that I took at the college, no matter what “I” thought, no I was always wrong to him. For he belittled me and taunted me. We loved each other. That was a sure thing. But it wasn’t enough, not to cover up all of the pain that he caused me, what he stole from me, my piece of mind. I decided right then, that if I made it out of this alive, that I was breaking up with him.
Copyright Kat Lyons
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