This girl does better than the idea of a model, who is told to be a hanger. She embodies the idea of soul, life, of many girls, women, so you can see yourself inside her self as if you were her.
Picture Reblogged: covermeinglitter
No I will not sit down. No I will not follow the crowd. No I will not behave. I will not be any man’s slave. I do not want to be owned, nor conjoled. Rising up like a phoenix out of this mess. Clawing my way up is more like it. Surveying the land and there is so much yet to be done. They told me to go home. I refused. They told me to get a good little job that would get me nowhere. I refused. Blinded I could not see the opportunities right infront of me. So I took the high road, the broken down path straight on through to the left, with branches hanging down in my way. Because I was bound and determined to get to the top. If that is what I had to do, then so be it.
Ten years later and at the top of the revine, looking down amongst the tumble of branches below, that wasn’t such a good idea, after all. But it did get me to where I can now see where I’m going. If I had listened to them I wouldn’t have made it this far. So they can go screw themselves. With their determined pout, listening to the male dominating voice telling them what to do, running around like rats in a cage, they pump themselves up with the self described democracy. Sure they have made progress too, but to what avail? On the backs of others, who don’t realize they’re there. Looking down our noses at each other, we both scorn. But I am torn. Wanting to reach back into yesterday and explain the pain, and the need. Wanting to say all those things left unsaid, that have gone to the wind. But I can’t.
Looking ahead I can see the possibility, that I might meet a few friends along the way. I hope they acknowledge me. I hope it wasn’t just a dream, that we were comrads in arms, in the dark of the night. I’d like to finish a thought or two, and tell them what was happening to, me. I’d like them to know why I fell, why I changed, why I said some things I did. I let misunderstandings stand strong. I was too busy going around and around, broken in pieces and falling to the ground. Looking up through the pain, leaves falling, swirling all around, my back, it collapsed on me, and I simply could not get up.
Next thing I know, I am somewhere else and they are nowhere to be found, for I have gone. I’d like to tell them a thing or two. I’m sorry I wasn’t friends with you, more then the buddy system we had in the halls and the mirror or two or three. But let me tell you, it was your secrets that kept me from you. And it was your secrets that you were ahead of me. But I still have hope and it is looking like chances may and many years of long hard work might, have me meet you right, in the place that we both knew we were destined to. In my heart of hearts, I’m sorry I didn’t give you credit where credit is due. Of course you were great as so was I. And so I should have known that you were going too. Please remember me. I have missed you all these years. I’m so glad you made it, through my tears. I have cried for years without knowing, without saying, without explaining. I didn’t know that in my heart you were a friend, a friend who I didn’t ever want to say goodbye to, or at the very least to have the chance, the chance to say goodbye, I never did get that chance.
Copyright Kat Lyons
Picture Reblogged: fuckyeahgirlythings
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
I had to leave the blog world for a minute. I’m sorry to have left you hanging. I didn’t know what to say. One sentence wouldn’t cut it with the way that my blog is set up. Moving took precedence. It was a huge, let me repeat, humongous undertaking. Never have I ever been involved in any move this daunting, strenuous, or near impossible of a feat to pull off. It was treacherous. It was exciting. It was stressful, to say the least.
At one particular moment, I was shaking, convulsing in full body waves from the inside out. It was very scary, in moments, large moments, that seemed to last a lifetime. This was not any ordinary move. For the space that I had been living in before, was so tiny, that two people could not pass each other. Boxes were piled high everywhere, as a means for living. Because there simply was no space, no closet, no place to eat, no place to sit for more then one person, no bedroom for me with a door, and no place to put my things, but piled high up against the wall.
I wasn’t the only one. Mom had lived there for twenty five years, much longer then me, since I had moved back in some time ago. She didn’t have enough room for her things, let alone room for me. So her possessions were stacked up in boxes as well.
Now in the new home, there is space, space for everything. There is a room for me, with a closet. It is super tiny, but it has a place to hang my clothes. The bedroom is huge. There is a dining room, two bathrooms, a yard with a fence, a garage, and a living room that can be used for one, rather then a place for me to sleep.
The garbage which attempted to masquerade as furniture has been thrown out, with new furniture that is meant to be furniture, beautiful in it’s splendor and magificent esthetic appeal, in it’s place. I can now ooh and ahh at not only having enough, but also that it is nice on the eyes. I feel like I’m in wonderland. It’s so beautiful.
I’m back. Now I am living in a real home, that is meant to be one at that, with room to grow. No longer having to live with floors that are falling in, a roof falling in, nor black mold….I no longer have to hear the neighbors every single move, breath, word or deed. Now I can have privacy. Now my health is not threatened by the very place in which I must live. It will regulate the temperature too, and doesn’t have to feel like I’m outside camping in the open weather anymore. No, now my house has it’s bases covered, and may actually encourage me to become healthy some day. There is room for creativeness, and for sleep. I even have the sink modified for my handicap. That means less pain on my feet. Maybe they won’t swell as much. There is also a place where I can build a garden or two. And there are two fruit trees which need attending to.
Strange to think that I may be here for the rest of my life. But that’s a good thing too.
Picture Reblogged: inspiremydreams Prose: (C) Kat Lyons
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
Looking out over the cornfields, she was so happy then. Her heart lingered at the train tracks. Full of love for those with whom she had chosen, her bosom buddies she called friends, her heart wanted to sing. The glow all around her was brilliant. The house was in shambles. But to her eyes it was beautiful. For it had little stenciled hearts and hand written momentos in small places, leaving traces of those who had been there before her. The kitchen was quite large. The backyard was expansive. The view driving up was of field after field. Her heart was full of joy.
What came next was this little world in a bubble which she had built, began to get pin pricks one by one. For others were jealous of her success. They wanted a piece of her pie. Her cash she had to cover the bills, her long stemware glasses which she had bought, the alcohol stash which she had paid a pretty price for, expecting it to last for years to come…They all ate away at it, one piece at a time. Gradually it all came apart, crumbling down around her ears. But worse then that, was the destruction on the inside.
The walls began to shake, as she held her rifle to the wall.
The bugs were deposited in her attic, ready for when the roof fell in, to go all over the floor.
But worse of all, was her heart was found, hanging it’s hat on a place that wasn’t there. For instead of security, she saw reason to believe that he didn’t really love her, no. Not only that, but he would tear at the hearts and minds of any children they might share, and put her down infront of them. For he would abuse them all mentally. She saw this in a flash, as he yelled. And as his voice escalated, for the ten millioneth time, something clicked. He would do this to them. Not only that, but he would turn them against her. Rather then letting them be, and letting them all live in love, he would destroy them, from the inside. In one fell swoop, she saw it all. And so she decided she didn’t want to go there. No she couldn’t have children with him. She couldn’t even marry him. But her heart didn’t understand. It didn’t want to leave. For she loved him anyway. And so she stayed, until a few years later, when she found the courage, to love herself just a bit more, then she loved him.
Copyright Kat Lyons
They bought furniture. She checked online for six months time, bookmarking the possibilities, studying the nuances, and the price range. So when it came time, the options were in. Two places competing, which one would win? The one with unusual flair, and age old detail with incredible air, or the one with traditional lines, and a few spectacular pieces too expensive to take her there? The latter won the case, for at the last minute, it won the debate, by simply having a better inventory at the exact moment of the sale. Luckily once there, those once too expensive pieces, the price had already gone down, because Labor Day had great sales. And so they chose the living room furniture, her mother’s bedroom set, and a dining room table along with some chairs, all within five hours. Then they called it a night. With the dining table strapped down, sticking out of the trunk, over night. No where to put it from where they were leaving, and no one to help at this time of night, they had to chance it and chance it they might. In the morning it was still there. A new day dawning, soon they will get to live like two regular citizens, leaving behind the squalor, and saying good night.
Copyright Kat Lyons
Source: Ashley Furniture