Tuesday, December 31, 2013

December 31st, 2013; Fin

It is the last day of the year 2013. So I suppose this is a good time to reminisce on the lovely things that have happened within the past twelve months (at least all the things I can remember).
This year, oh this year, what can I say? It has been a tad bit more magical than other years, and sadly a bit more stressful.

I think the farthest thing I can remember is sometime in January I taught my best friend Rob how to drive. (I have photos of this, just sadly, not with me, so I may add them later.) During this drive though, we had a conversation that I had videotaped that kept me from not going crazy for a couple months. A conversation of true friendship and laughter that I will never forgot.

I was going to school that spring, and also still working as a caregiver. This was the semester where my GPA dropped by around .7. It was kind of discouraging, but I had a very difficult time managing my life around then and ended up dropping seven credits. School is lame anyways.
At the beginning of the year, I had planned to move to Portland, Oregon, to pursue a career in baking and attend Le Cordon Bleu. I went to Portland three times this past year, and fell out of love with that city and baking. So, after I was accepted into the college I started ignoring all calls from them and decided to change my plans entirely. Why did I fall out of love with this city? I fell out of love, simply because I enjoy being different. Yes, I know diversity is a healthy thing but I honestly like being surrounded by idiots. I have nothing to really share with portlanders, and I frankly don't give two shits about what they have to share with me because they have too much to share, too much for me to process, too much for me to really consider being myself as myself. Portland would have pulled me into to many directions; it would have excited me to the point of eruption. I also know it is a good thing to be surrounded by ideas, but I would rather discover them myself; I would rather fight for things. I don't want to live in a glazed over krispy cream factory city; I want to live somewhere where at least they citizens recognize everything as it (aka kind of stupid). Portland will always remain a 'homey' place to me, just I don't think it will ever be accepted as home, even though my best friend moved there. So whatev's on that.

What else happened that was lovely? I got to see Listener again this year, sometime in April I think. My wondrous boyfriend opened for them at The Hop! in Spokane, Wa. They played as a full band, and while I can't remember much I do remember pinning my boyfriend to a wall and attacking him with kisses and it was one of the most romantic times in my mind. (Although some girl thought I was sexually assaulting him.)
I also got to see Comadre in Portland in April with my dear friend Kateri. That show was messy, sweaty, painful, beautiful, etc.

I went to a lot of house shows. I went to a lot of house shows. A lot of house shows.

Around March, I called my father and talked to him for the first time eleven years to ask him if I could visit him in Indiana for my birthday. He said no. A couple hours later he messaged me and asked me if I wanted to travel to Jordan with him and his family for two months. Of course my answer was yes, I got leave for my work, and then I left. There I met so many members of my family that I didn't even know where alive, I witnessed another culture, I learned a bit of arabic, I ate like a queen, I had a maid tend to my every need, and I smoked too many cigarettes. While I was there I saw the Red, Dead, & Mediterranean Seas. I visited Petra, stayed in a beautiful villa, made my grandmother cry with love, made a depressed person feel alive, got to know my little sisters, and most importantly my father. (I even explored Roma.) In this time, I grew so much as a person, I learned so many new things, and it was truly a blessing in my life.

(Before I had left to the Middle East, my closest friends threw me an early birthday party) (It was one of my best birthdays.)

When I returned mid-July, I moved into my first apartment. This has also been a learning experience. I now spend five hundred dollars on living. I now can cook breakfast half-naked, I now can throw parties galore. I now have to communicate things with my roommate so misunderstandings don't birth, and I have to get used to living with a crazy little kitty. Living on my own has been alright, but it has been difficult. It has made me feel very stuck.

Around September, I was hired at Hastings, and now I am working two jobs. For awhile I had been working sixty plus hour weeks, and now am totally fine with working fourteen hour days. What a skill.
I didn't go to school fall semester due to financial aid bitch problems, but I needed a break anyways. So I didn't really get much done this half the year. I worked a lot, I read a lot of books, I dreamed too much, I drank too much coffee, I felt sad quite a bit of the time, I cuddled with my lover, I drank, I collected vinyl, I just kind of tried to survive. I stopped taking photos. I kind of regret this, probably the only thing I regret due to the fact a photo a day helps me remember what happened and what I felt.
There are only two last things I want to take note on: my last trip to Portland I almost died in a car-wreck due to an ice storm so I ended up getting a tattoo the next day to commemorate my lungs still breathing and my mind still thinking. Secondly, in December I started writing, and playing music again. This might be one of the things I'm proudest of for 2013.

I probably forgot a bunch of really important things, but like I said, I forgot.

Last thing this is Fallon, this is my boyfriend, this is my best friend(not the one that moved away), this is the only person that reads my blog, this is one of the reasons I am who I am, this is the person who inspired to me to start playing music, this is the person who keeps me going when I'm sad, this is my cuddle-bug, this is someone who I love more and more with each passing day. This is someone who was with me almost every single day throughout 2013, someone who never let me feel lonely, someone who took my trash out when I was too tired to walk out the front door, someone who made lists of things for me to do to feel accomplished, someone who played me songs in the morning after kissing my cheeks, someone who showed me that I am beautiful the way I am. Without you, Fallon Braddy, 2013, would have been a very very very very sad year. I love you, thank you for everything.

Tomorrow, 2013 will disappear into our memories and 2014 will begin defrosting our frozen cars.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

December 11, 2013; wait, wait, wait

Today I called my father to get some help with tax information. We talked about life, about my recent car wreck, about the soup he was making, about his brother, and about his wife. We started talking about my education, and I think he summed up how I really feel about the entirety of my life as a whole. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"
This is possibly the most accurate thing someone has said to me about the problems and achievements I make. I literally have no idea what I'm doing, and I have no idea what I'll do. I'm stuck in this sort of purgatory of choices. There are so many wonderful choices; and for now I feel as if I can only pick one. I am very undecided in almost everything, which isn't the most awful thing; I'm only nineteen.
I could wait to go to college for a few years, I mean I'll always have a free education available in the state of Indiana. Or I could just do it now and get it all over with and then party my college wisdom away when I'm twenty five living in an urban city as top-illustrator for a magazine.

Monday, December 9, 2013

December 9th, 2013; nazi

Words are hard to come by, words are always there. Things have been treading quite rapidly, and time is slipping through my ideas, slightly slicing slivers of a once prominent thoughts. My hope is founded in my thoughts. I would assume it's time to get to work, but things have been getting horridly crazy. The world is acting outside of my standards; it is hard to align with changing seasons.
But I must try. At least, I'll try.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

November 26th, 2013; tomorrow

I will never know what will happen within the next two seconds, no one will ever know. Not until it's past, unimportant, will I realize reality. Sincerely, I am trying to control my anxiety which causes me to control what will happen next. In effort to predict the possible events, the upcoming loses it's ability to surprise. My compulsiveness controls each hour of each day; instead of allowing life spread out freely, naturally. I do not know what will happen next. I cannot predict anyones moves. I cannot predict my own. I am tired of misjudging the magic. With all of this passive thinking of mine, I am only hindering my creativity. It will not flow without flaw with all of these expectations, yet I still can't help but worry. I still can't help but wonder what will someone say to me next, or what is going through that person's head. I still can't help but wonder if I will fail or strive. I will fail if that's all I'm doing, is worrying, wondering, predicting, thinking. I will fail if I can't get over this. 

Sunday, November 24, 2013

During a conversation today, I was asked how my life is.
I didn't necessarily have a decent answer for this question due to all of the ups and downs that have been going from within and without me. The person cut in and said,
"It just is?"
And with some contemplation I replied,
"It just is."

november 24th, 2013; thirteen hours

coughing the wrong way feels like being possessed by a demon
not getting enough sleep makes you feel like a ghost
forgetting to eat before a shift feels like purgatory
whispering feels like a sneaky exchange
talking aloud feels like magic
i will believe in this magic

Sunday, November 17, 2013

november 17th, 2010; central


if there was ever a moment,
                   ever a moment, 
                   ever a moment, 

                   it's now 
but I can't bring it within myself to do anything.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

November 16th, 2013; "God damn it, you've got to be kind."

Today wasn't a very good day. Almost everything within my body doesn't want to accomplish really anything. But I swore to my heart I would express my heart every single day in a memorable matter. So I am trying. I am pushing myself.

It's so hard to walk away from something that fills you with such loathing.
It's so hard to be kind.
It's so nice to feel a bit apathy.
But you must stray away.

This is my attempt, to walk as far away as I can from it. Even if it's just a few feet. When I do things, I'm fine. I can continue being active. It is not difficult to be successful within my own life. I just have to not give in. Ever.

So I will keep trying. I will wake up at four am tomorrow and go to work. I will not let work wreck me tomorrow like I did today. Because things are okay, and they will always be okay. I just can't blind myself from that. I can't tell myself that things won't happen, because with that attitude I will accomplish my biggest fears.

A note to my mentor, I did record a song today. The mic was really bad & made me sound like kesha at some points, so I would rather not share it. (this is part of my daily goals.) (recording a song.) (maybe tomorrow, I can figure out how to make it sound like heaven.) (but for now, I must sleep. I have less than eight hours to be at work in the morning.)


Friday, November 15, 2013

November 15th, 2013; i cannot see though

my mind is somber
it is relaxed with the patter of the rain
the ramble of footsteps
the unsteadiness of traffic
the chill of my fingertips
the loss of my breath
& the gain of it once again
it is relaxed with the subtlety of light
the creaks from the upstairs rats
the dryness of my throat
the hum of the heater
the pondering of my past
& the blank thoughts of my future
it is relaxed with the wind stirring my curtains
the loss of another day
the softness of an empty room
the stretching of my toes
the hope for next morning
& the hope for two minutes from now
my mind is somber

Thursday, November 14, 2013

November 14th, 2013; balence

Mouth to mouth, please to police
god damn, my genes for my knees
to ache is to ache is to be awake
in life or death, a parallel

my fingertips coated in grease
from these things I do feed
a minuscule point I'd like to add
a far fetched dear love

in light, of fire in self to keep
forever I love to be asleep
for fear, for fear, of the sea
a dark, alluring enjoyment

these times, these times, nothing
comes from our hearts, nothing
a lack there of, of something
nothing, no nothing, nothing

sweet dear, don't look afraid
for there comes a time, that needs
in the air, you feel
in the air, you breathe

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Sunday, July 7th 2013; purly ritually, a facade

As of late, I have been pondering the art of making a choice & the possibilities of other choices & the importance of these possibilities. I would suppose that I've come to the conclusion that there is no importance in what "could have been" but there very well could lie great potential in what can happen & there very well couldn't. When contemplating a conclusion there is a delicacy in deciding, for even if you have a sure idea of what's to come, there will never be any way to predict an ending. Which brings me to another thing that I have been contemplating, what if all has been mapped out already? Mapped out by a divine creature or perhaps by the idea that time could not be linear at all? Choices become almost irrelevant, because there doesn't really lie a choice at all. Guilt, anguish, fear, cautiousness, all meaningless feelings. You could have been created to be the fool. All universes need fools.


In fear of taking flight, I refuse to even enter the terminal, leaving me as hollow as a rusty can in a parking lot during the emptiness of the night. All alone, all alone.
What will become of me?
I called for a taxi though only carrying pocket change with me
I left my suitcase in the trunk of the vehicle
I left my heart in the backseat
jumping out, skipping down an alleyway, singing happy tunes
happy to be a fool
happy to be a fool

There are rules that come with friendships
There are binds that come with love
There are laws that come with living
There are laws that come with living
What will become of me?

I could do anything

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Sunday, July 7th, 2013; Completely crowded, completely unnecessary.

I was drinking near tombstones after a hot summer day, liquidating my problems, crying for lost strangers, spiting my secrets at souls that have vanished. There were better things to be doing with my evening, there are always better things to do than whatever I happen to be doing. So what of it? In the grandeur of the cemetery nothing spectacular happened, everything is dead. Most of the people who visit cemeteries are dead also. I suppose the only thing truly alive are the trees, whom intermingle their roots with the deceased.

I don't know why I am thinking of this, but I thought I'd type it out. I would like to write words that evoke thought, and hold meaning, but I always feel that I describe things in the wrong way, that I leave important details out. At least, details normal people might think of. Maybe the cracks aren't important, perhaps that is why I tend to ignore them. The words I shed always seem, so, almost plastic. Flimsy, easy to shatter. I suppose I should work on this. It is rare when I compose something that I find to be genuinely worth something.

I was telling stories to a new friend today; she told me that I should write a book. Writing some sort of novel, or memoir has always been intriguing to me, but a lot of things sound intriguing to me so I'm not sure if I will ever follow through on this little dream my heart has thought up. I have, though, decided to take up writing again. I don't think it does me much good. The second I start writing, I think more, and with thoughts, come truth. With truth comes my cynical habits. So maybe it isn't a very good thing, but it is also a very good thing. All the masters were assholes, what of it? I wish I could be the person I used to be. Two years ago, almost three. Cynical, aware, happy, writing, always writing. School & work are pieces of shit that ruin a soul.


Thursday, July 4, 2013

Thursday, July 4th, 2013;Recycled Souls

(just an idea) (for remembering)

Something seems peculiar about today, but I can't quite put my tongue on it. My vision seems clearer. My fingertips are more curious to explore the texture of already memorized surfaces. Even the familiar patter of rain upon my window sounds like sweet honey dew to my ears. The traffic outside is no longer exasperating to me. I think I may even leave to town this morning.
As I leave my room, brush my teeth, do necessary human things, the cracks in the walls are suddenly bothersome to me; peeling paint has collected itself in the corners of the rooms. Dust  has found a home on everything including my spectacles. All of the empty beer cans on the coffee table have finally made themselves apparent to me. What of it?
I leave. I come home. Nothing makes a difference. Tomorrow I won't notice anything.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Wednesday, July 3rd, 2013; time is falling apart

I would like to be a lightning bug tonight
& I would like to meet another lightning bug
I would like to go for a walk & scream at the top of my lungs
I would like to feel less imprisoned than I feel

Wednesday, July 3rd 2012; Every fucking day you slaughter me

Good morning to you, good morning to you.
Good morning to you too.
And you. And you also, friend.

Kisses for everyone, even the fucking cats!
Why not? Who cares?
I will wear my smile for everyone.

There is nothing going on during this current instant
except for your greeting to me, and my greeting to you.

No one is breathing; time is still.
Time is a fucking mockery to this moment we share.
This moment, forever, greeting one another, because we have too.

You & I.
Holding hands in hell.
Exchanging fractions of one another, as silently as we can.
Fractions. One, one hundredth. Point five?
Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing at all.
Until I move on to the next stranger to spit lies at.

Good morning.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Tuesday, July 2nd, 2013: Purgatory

The fan blows lightly upon my bare skin , while the dark is slowly swallowing me into a captive state of unwariness. I listen for the slight creaks and croons of such an unfamiliar atmosphere; I play games within my mind, trying to figure out who else cannot dream tonight. The doors outside my own open & close, open & close, open & close. Only a ghost, going back & fourth, for there is no where for him to go, there is no for him to see, no one for him to say hello too.

Friday, March 29, 2013

I feel quite alone
I would like to simply crawl in bed with my lover
and hold him until the sun rises
but even if I do so,
I'll still feel alone

Thursday, March 7, 2013

March 7, 2013

Every other week, I claim that I'm going crazy.
I wish that I had some stability in my life.
I wish there was someone that could understand why I like to stand too close to an open flame
& why sometimes a stranger's presence can feel like home
& why my intuitions take me places where I just have to turn around
over & over & over again
because I don't even understand, & I would like too.