Kiwi

So, I'm hanging out with some of my cool beans friends tonight, so I made this squirt playlist.  I suggest you listen to these songs with the volume cranked and the car windows down.

Dancing is a must.

Kiwi

1. The Black And White Years - Up!

2. Cee Lo Green - Forget You

3. Deadmau5 - Ghosts 'n' Stuff

4. Friendly Fires - Skeleton Boy

5. Katy Perry - E.T (feat. Kanye West)

6. La Roux - In For The Kill

7. Mike Posner - Please Don't Go

8. Neon Trees - Animal

9. Paper Tongues - Higher

10. Passion Pit - Sleepyhead

11. Sam Sparro - Black & Gold

12. Shiny Toy Guns - Major Tom

13. Spinnerette - Baptized By Fire

14. Two Door Cinema Club - Something Good Can Work

15. White Town - Your Woman

Of Sunny Days and Peanut Allergies

Are you aware that March 4th is the only day of the year that gives you a command?

Think about it.

But I digress, quite aware that we're further into March than the aforementioned date.  Missouri is breaking free from Winter and just a few days ago it was warm enough to comfortably wear shorts and a tanktop.  I was out of my uniform only minutes after the last bell of the school day and dancing around outside barefoot with a few good friends, completely ecstatic at the wonderful weather.  For the rest of the evening a friend and I drove around town with the windows down, playing dance music obnoxiously loud.  It was a breath of fresh air, like we were finally free to do more than sit inside all day and wait for the snow to go away.  I hate Winters in the Midwest, they always last too long in my opinion and they make me feel trapped. In a way, when the weather warms up so do my moods.  It's funny how cold, gray days can make a dreary and antisocial person out of me.

So, with all of the lovely occurances this week has brought I guess you could reason that life has been fairly good to me.

Wrong.

Tragedy scraped its black hands across my life last night.  It brought me to the realization that

I...

Am allergic to Nutella......

Curse thee peanut allergies!  Curse thee!

I almost cried when I saw rashes on my arms. 

Suppose it's time I find another spread to obssess over.

Liminality (Two)

Another snippet from my developing story.  Enjoy, and no sticky fingers or I'll send my hounds after you.

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  "Good morning."  Fingers of light crept behind his closed eyelids, prying them open to reveal a blurry face peering back into his, an overenthusiastic smile plastered on it cheaply.  Dark brown eyes stared at him curiously, a hand tightly gripping his shoulder to cause the discomfort that had wakened him.  He pulled his head up from the ground slowly.  The tangy taste of salt permeated his mouth and sand gripped onto his face and hair, grating against his teeth as he worked his jaw.  "At least, I think it's morning."  The silhouette's voice was masculine and simple, the tone you would hear in daily conversations, but it was still foreign to the drowsy boy.  The hand moved from his shoulder to brush the sandy bangs from his forehead, fingers frigid against his already cold skin.  When he opened his mouth to protest the touch only air slipped past his lips, as if his vocal cords had been burnt away. 

  Water, breathing water, was lapping at his feet, dragging its way across his legs and lower torso.  The gray light that had opened his eyes was streaming out from behind a thick layer of dark storm clouds that shed their liquid burden across the desolate beach.  The touch against his forehead dissipated and he relaxed into the ground, hand curling around the sand to mold a handful of the substance beneath his raw fingers.  The drowsy boy closed his eyelids.

Ego

I

Tend to live in my head

Really like Nutella

Prefer to be barefoot

Like smiling

Am allergic to cashews

Never finish a story

Try to be positive

Always wear hemp bracelets

Laugh a lot

Tend to be really loud

Wear Converse that are falling apart

Am not gorgeous

Am not ugly

Am a Child of God

And proud.

Indie-Freak

Let me start by saying that my transition into Indie was not a recent one but rather a very gradual movement I've been making over the past few years.  I was never really raised mainstream child, but I wasn't raised Indie either.  I didn't care what I listened to as long as it wasn't country and I didn't care what movies I watched as long as they weren't chick-fliks.  I just cruised along in my own little boat of homeschooling completely unaware of any peer pressure for the first twelve years of my life.  Sure, my loud personality was (and still is) easily defined but I never had a preference in movies or music. I just didn't care.

My first dip into Indie began after I started caring about what I listened to and watched.  I didn't like most of what was being played on the radio anymore because it was all so redundant and honestly, kind of shallow.  I didn't like most of the movies I watched because I'd seen it all before.  It was like the copy-cat had a litter of copy-kittens and they were now running my generation.  I'd seen the "mainstream" world, and I didn't like it.  Being an individual means being different, a solitary personality that is truly defined your own by what you like, what you do, and what you live for.  I didn't like mainstream, so I didn't listen to it and peer pressure never changed my mind.

Indie : Independent

Independent, not a follower.  The indie band does it because they love it.  The indie filmmaker does it because it's they're passion.  They want to be defined as someone who tried something different.  Sounds like how I've always wanted to be defined.

Plus, you have to respect a person who can make something amazing out of so little.  Think about it.  When a Hollywood film is being made and they come across an issue they throw money at it.  When an Indie film is being made and they come across an issue, they have to find a way around it, which forces creativity and doing something new and different.  Sometimes that creativity can bomb, and other times that creativity is the indie filmmakers best friend.

If this rant was inspired because Sundance is in the air, I don't know.  Indie is not for everyone, even I haven't made the full transition.  But it is something different, and I like that.

Liminality

This is just a small excerpt from a story of mine I'm planning on converting into a script-format.  It's unfinished (obviously) but I'd thought I'd share the prologue.

--

Fingers curled in apprehension.  Lips pulled pin straight and eyes half-lidded, drowsy almost.  Fourteen centuries with your legs crossed and no one to speak to, look to, listen to.  You perched yourself on a hilltop and said you would never come down, who knew that we would forget about you.  On my sixteenth birthday you became conscious and watched from that hilltop.  Every day, observing the world.  You wanted it, so you decided to make one for yourself.  In that fine line between life and unconsciousness you created Liminality, became it.  When I turned twenty-three you snatched me up, told me your name, then cast me into your empty world.  I had to create this place from scratch, buildings, mountains, forests, and an ocean that expands for a lifetime.  You didn't think I could do it, but yet you took more people, snatching them away in their sleep.  You filled this stagnant hole in your being; filled this place then shut the door.

We can't go back, so this is home now.  The cities, projects I could never finish, slowly fell apart.  The ocean turned black and the sky melted, pouring down acid rain.  Clouds, coal gray, covered the white sun from our view; drenching us in a permanent gray twilight.  The ocean lapped at the shores with its viscous liquid, strewing the bones of animals that could not survive it across our shores.  The buildings I had been so proud of were now dilapidated and useless and the mountains became the home for the monstrosities of Liminality, so we left them alone.  I was thirty-seven when I died.  Died alone.  I held onto the belief that this place could be fixed, and I grasp it even now in death.  Those stuck here have lost hope, but I still haven't.  I refuse to admit that you won.

Seasonal Playlists

How often do you listen to music?  If you're anything like me pretty much every day.  Seymour, my iPod and best friend has been in my pocket for the past few hours on shuffle and seldom am I content with the music he plays but today I suppose he's in a good mood, like me.  I realized after a few songs that most of my playlists are seasonal.  For example:  I always listen to Coldplay and Death Cab for Cutie when it's raining (Spring mostly).  I don't know why, but if water isn't falling from the sky in some form of precipitation I just don't really appreciate those bands.  I can listen to them, but I don't pay attention to the words, ya' know?

It's a beautiful Winter's day today, one of the warmer ones that come before spring and I'm on my bed listening to Jónsi, an artist I prefer listening to in Winter and Spring rather than Summer and Fall.  I get nostalgic over a lot of things such as weather, smells, and places but I think music is really what makes me reminiscent about past good times and that's why I prefer to listen to it during certain seasons.

In an awfully cliche way, good music makes good memories.