3/30

I AM A PRIZE AMONG WOMEN

NOBODY FAILED ME.

the week of speaking
the week of naked existence


it is time to speak honestly. and by honestly i mean completely unfiltered. 


why hide from each other? try it.

a lil story bout 3/26

HOLI FESTIVAL

with Tyannah and Julia. where for the most part, people made asses of themselves and confirmed my feelings that far too many people in Utah (specifically Utah County) are ignorant/arrogant fools. the holiday signifies a shedding of past evils and an awakened sense of both individual and group consciousness. but alas, there were many a folk who impatiently interrupted the rituals chanting for the color throwing to begin.

it was still a good time,

especially when Ty and I went without shirts and felt 

free.

POST-HOLI

my bra looked like this

and my baftub looked like this.

then,

A MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT (stoner) ADVENTURE!

with my uncle Andy, Kerriann, my brother, and Oliver the dog. we hiked 2.5 miles each way in the icy muddy madness, ill equipped of course. but it was worth it, for our destination was the Diamond Fork  hot springs. and hot they were.

i lied across two rocks and looked up at the infinite sky and cried one tear and felt 

rejuvinated.

NOT A DAY TO FORGET.

a true story that almost worked out and then he had a girlfriend

be as brave as you are bold
                                              he says,

i didn't mean to
                                             drag
                                             you
                                             through the mud.

and i wish i could have come bearing hugs.
                                                                          i say,


                                              the universe is always benevolent
                                              so i shall put another notch in my belt
                                              take another step

                                              find another heart that feels something real.

It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in. 


-American Beauty

3/22

IRONY 

OLIVER

NICOTINE

;dsfkhgapsighe4q[t

it's a chain smoking sort of night.


something to press against my lips
that won't stand me up
or tell me i'm second best

we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars

the life for me

-french pastries, a big ol' coffee, a window seat at the cafe
-fireplace, novels in stacks, kittens
-walking the Avenues in the rain
-rooftops
-eyes that get close to mine and hands that overlap mine and souls that intertwine with mine

dormant

great  beasts
&  even  greater  beauties

swelling subterranean
slowlyseductively
scorching
my soul and asking the very good question:

why  don't  you  let  us  speak?

scream it to the nothingness

dis my brudder

i don't understand people who vacillate from not wanting you in their life to wanting to be great friends like it used to be to not wanting you in their life because how it used to be can't be repeated and how it is now causes pain.

i am growing really weary of love being knotted to fear,
and communication being harpooned to texting and not saying what is meant,
and everything being with condition and with reason and with logic.

i want to be filterless, fearless, and free.

psh, politics

it seems to me

that everything is corrupt,

& that a bird with only one wing (rightorleft)

is crippled to flight

democracy is doornail dead,

but was it ever really alive?

maybe if fat old men weren't running this place

wars over carefully constructed lies

wouldn't exist

and safe places would be safe,

not threatened to be stripped of funding

(hey, it's cool, who needs testing or birth control anyway?)

truth is becoming a word that is thrown around

a frisbee game 

with luck it might end up at your feet.

our hell is a good life

walking alone in the rain is something only a frigid romantic does.

if you don't tangle expectations with people, you are never disappointed
although the converse is what tends to happen.

my heart beat feels heavy &slow under the weight of a hot bath, a heart that aches after a voice on the other end hangs up,
a heart that shakes when all that matters is oceans away.

it's consistency i lack.

tangled/untangled

in a fragile sort of place

where         anyevery       song brings tears

and             everyany       look at your face

sends these legs s p i n n i n g

to avoid a goodbye,

i will nevernot run

dear best friend

everything is beautiful, and nothing hurt.

love,
Kiagen

p.s. i need to hear your voice

EVERYTHING IS CORRUPT

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-12695313

raised in the city of salt

i was born in a house on 5th south
my mother nearly bled to death
                                                            i guess it's only fair that i am anemic

i learned to write long before i learned how to talk,
probably because a thumb was always in my mouth
and we didn't have a tv
                                                            the librarians knew me by name

i was always scowling, couldn't find reasoning
for my parents being sad, for the eating of animals
for not having any friends 
or a cat of my own
                                                            words were my escape from the start
                                                             a lonely girl's only constant.

comfort is pen to paper
                                   therapy is a journal so used the binding breaks
                                                                                                              writing is home

Sara

3/6

-my brudder and i are having 'mini muffin tv marathon!' night
-i can't find my damn glue stick anywhere
-bike riding in the rain is a glorious event
-my plan for tomorrow is: build a fort

prince polo

dead poets

currently, I am obsessed with Walden by Henry David Thoreau. 

''I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck all the marrow out of life. To put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I had come to die, discover I had not lived. ''

I am also obsessed with my Moleskin notebook, learning about photography, and things that make my mind boggle. I read something from a Seamus poem that says the end of art will be peace. Take a good think over that. I want to say that art can arise from tranquility, but that I can only say in theory. From what I see, art is fueled by injustices and hurts and wars and heartbreaks.  Art is an outlet against these things as well as fueled by these things. Art is a paradox of ugly and beautiful.

I am glad that today I can spend hours reading and musing the words of philosophers long gone. A day well, well spent. 

some things in capitals because they are true and i should remember them

- YOU HAVE TO WANT TO WRITE MORE THAN YOU WANT TO BE A WRITER.


- MAKING ART IS DANGEROUS, REVEALING, AND NECESSARY


- YOU ATTRACT WHAT YOU FEAR


- LOVE NEVER DIES A NATURAL DEATH

intangible somethings

in the quiet

and

the

           loud

in the spaces

and 

the     crowd

i miss what we almost were

it just doesn't get more beautiful...

http://dai.ly/dkPStu

this was said to me:

I fucking love you.
And I think you are my definition of rad.


all I gotta say is: likewise, dear friend, likewise.