Transition

I want it to be summer.
I want to wear shorts and a tank top and still be warm.
I want to enjoy what I'm doing, what I'm living,
and not have to worry about homework.

I love winter, I love jackets,
I love coming home and getting warm.
But I'm glad that seasons change.
I am ready for spring,
and as much as I don't want time to move forward too quickly

I am starting to want this next season
I'm looking forward to summer, and
with some anxiety
the summer after that

I don't know what is coming next.
But I'm going to trust
that a certain Someone else does

Some Thoughts of the Day

I am somewhat of a sarcastic person.
It is a defense mechanism.
Pushes concepts and people further away.

Whenever death  is brought up, if it is applicable, I'll say
"I'm dying, we all are. Dying of life"
It is suposed to stir thoughts I suppose, but all it is is a trick to avoid the thoughts it stirs.

I like to believe I am Jaded towards death.
To pretend I can look in to its cold (or perhaps warm) eyes fearless
And I do work at being level about it,
however sometimes i wonder if it is just the cardboard replica I am unafraid of.

Things only have the power we give them over us, but that doesn't lessen the consequences.

Thinking about this due to the afore mentioned Wonderful Book.

Capitalizing Lonely "i"s is Overrated.

I have done nearly all of my writing the last two years not in orange, but in green ink.
It may be a contradiction to the title of this blog (though i do not keep the type color orange, so clearly this is a more symbolic and less literal title) however the main idea is 'penned not in black' i have come to realize, which doesn't seem to make as good a title.
Also, my title and i are in bit of a committed relationship. its not even because we created an email together (though we care a lot about our email, and are going to take good care of it), we just have the kind of relationship that sticks together.

Anyways, i say all this to note that i received colored pens for christmas, and among them was an orange pen. It has been interesting to actually write in orange again.

On to other more interesting (in theory) topics.
I am reading The Fault in Our Stars. I trust you all know what i am talking about. if not, you best go find out. I love John Green, and am very happy with the book. In a couple of weeks I will be attending the local tour stop, and am very excited to actually be in real life with John and Hank.

I thought I had something better for you all than funny sentences about titles and excitement about a book that I recommend for all (though I have yet to finish it). My ideas seemed to have drained away...

Perhaps I'll just write a list of likes and loves. That is what I feel like.

If you feel so inclined, leave your own list in the comments. Or don't. Your choice.

I love socks, fun colored and patterned socks.
I love my slippers, I've never been much of a slippers person, but these slippers were a gift from my roommate, and they are so warm.
I love my blue hat. It is a cable knit beanie with a brim. It is my one hat pretty much, and while I have an insatiable desire to find the right look, and thus want to find more hats, this one does such a good job i have yet to go about actually getting another hat. I could probably write a whole post about my hat, however i will hold back.
I love reading, and getting really zoned in on the story, forgetting about time and place if I'm lucky.
I love the freedom in close relationships, to act weird, and say things you might not mean but certainly feel, and to still be accepted.

The afore mentioned slippers. Bonus, socks.

That is my list.
And this is a post.

Fragmentation

There is something irresistibly intriguing about lonely people. Lonely people who though they are lonely, are completely absorbed in their own activities, who seem like they don't require others.
I was thinking this as I watched the beginning of what turned out to be a rather strange movie.
There is a mystery about contented loneliness.
It begs me to discover its secrets.

Taken on the *Washington* coast.

I am not good at writing consistently, if you've been here before you're aware of that. I started writing this post a couple weeks ago, and am only now returning to it. 

I'm just not sure what to share. There are thoughts but they seem to melt away when I try to write them.

My third grade english teacher told me that I did write my thoughts in order, and told me i should try to group similar ideas in the same paragraph. And there began my tendency towards fragmentation. Word is constantly alerting me that what I just left as a sentence is actually a fragment. All of that is said to explain why I am not bothering to make this post flow, its fighting nature, and today Smokey just isn't up for it.

The last couple days I've been watching a lot of Meekakitty on youtube. 

Watching too much youtube makes me question my identity, yet gives me ideas and hope at the same time.

I fly home (back to school) in a couple days. I'm quite looking forward to reading on the plane.

Currently I'm reading The Picture of Dorian Gray I'm not too far in because I didn't want to finish it and have nothing left to read at the airport. 

Once I get to school, I am excited that my Pre-Ordered copy of The Fault In Our Stars is waiting for me (along with the need to purchase an all too expensive business textbook, rahrg).  So I suppose I should hurry to finish Dorian Gray before then, or it shall be postponed. 

Being around my family this break has reminded me of why I want to write a book someday. Oh the hopes and dreams. 

Thank you for reading.

October

I love crisp air. Cold and crisp. Not wet, not humid, but like invisible ice. 

It wakes up the brain.

I love sunlight on leaves. Through leaves, highlighting leaves,doesn't matter just sunlight and leaves. Together. 

I love gray. I bought a new jacket this weekend. It is gray. It was blissfully cold enough to wear it today. 

It is basically made of felt, it has buttons, a hood, and a collar. I love it. It looks nice, but medium nice. Not formal, but pretty.

The next thing on my list of material items to obtain is a nice pair of boots. Leathery, black mid-calf, flat or low stable heel. Pretty, but practical. Rain proof, and walkable, but attractive. 

I love walking in neighborhoods. 

My boyfriend and I have gone on two walks in our neighborhood. Commenting on houses, holding hands, and being outside in the fading evening light. Not dusk, but not direct sunlight either. Yesterday he found a pile of free things, and I got a beautiful orange crate out of the deal. 

I also love decorating our house [my roommates and my's house. I live with three other girls, just to clarify ;) ]. This weekend i had some time so I put up another string of pictures and popped some keys in a picture frame and hid it on one of the basement study/craft room's windowsills. I love creative time. Making dekorations time. Art time. 

Perhaps that is why i am perpetually altering my wardrobe. Getting dressed is kind of like art. putting the patterns and colors together. Deciding on my style for the day. Trying to find satisfaction in how it looks, and all the practical variables of comfort. 

A principle of mine is that a true artist can make art out of anything. Don't have canvas? Substitute cardboard. Things like that. A true artist can take whatever materials that are at hand and create with them. That is what i try to do. Found object art, at least in piece. And it is some of the most satisfying. 

However, it does not always look "professional". And some how looking professional has come to matter to me as well. It is to be handmade, but not look homemade. The difference is vital.

Handmade is craftsman ship and skill, homemade is makeshift and lesser quality (we are not talking about baked goods here).

A while ago I assigned myself an hour of writing time every week. This is the first week I've taken it. I am glad that i did. It was not very beautiful, but I decided to share it with you anyways. Because blgs have been requested, and perhaps the pictures will redeem the words. 

Pictures and Quotes

Its been much too long. Everything is going pretty well in my world. Summer is drawing to a close and I'm content to wait a couple weeks to get back to my world, but it will be really nice when I get there.

 

 I've got a thing for sailboats.

"It's the things you fight for and struggle with before earning that have the greatest worth. When something's difficult to come by, you'll do that much more to make sure it's even harder -if not impossible- to loose." ~ Along for the Ride by Sarah Dessen 

[I also read This Lullaby by her both were very good and deeper than expected]

  

"It is astonishing just how much of what we are can be tied to the beds we wake up on in the morning, and it is astonishing how fragile that can be" ~Coraline by Niel Gaiman

 

I'm not sure what daisies wont tell but I saw this cushion at an antique store and it intrigued me.  Any idea on what secrets daisies have?

  

I found my first Nerdfighter note recently. I was happy. It was in a copy of Paper Towns at a used bookstore. I did replace it so whoever bought the book still got a note.

I pre-ordered John Green's next book The Fault In Our Starts, I'm excited it got pushed up to January.

I'm 20 years old (no its no where near my birthday). 

I've liked odd numbered ages better for a while now. 

I loved being 19. I was just old enough, but still young enough to be a little irresponsible.

I realize that I am young, but 20 feels so much heavier.

I'll never have "teen" in my age ever again.

Good bye childhood.

Adulthood, I'm glad I've come to terms with you, 

but we're not friends yet.

Just a few tainted thoughts to share.

What's your summer like?

I'm relaxing in a hammock. with a blanket for the wind.
Painted my nails this morning, and they're already a little dented.
Dog cruled up nicely on the grass next to me.
Looking up at the sunlight through the leaves, but perfectly shaded.
Pandora is playing.

This is one facet of a perfect summer day.

I feel like I could fade into the wind.
Not even my sunburn could keep me tethered.
Why did we build indoors?
How do we get stuck there?
Its not where we belong.

Well. Maybe if its raining.