tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69764374580542389472024-02-19T06:15:15.105-06:00Brittany's Bonescreating with my own two handsBrittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-2744533063965726952013-02-20T20:33:00.002-06:002013-02-20T20:33:46.079-06:00Waiting on the Right OneGod has a plan for us, all of us. We will never know it until it's already unfolding before us, but He does have a plan. I trust that He will steer me the way I need to go, and I know that someday He will get me on the path to the person meant for me. We will find each other. I just know it.<br />
<br />
<div align="center">
Story of Us</div>
<div align="center">
<a name='more'></a><br />
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</div>
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I hear songs of love
and loss, of heartache and heartthrob<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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I watch people in the
rollercoaster they go through<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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But, I wait for you<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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Is it the fear of
rejection?<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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Is it the anxiety of
a date?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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Self-conscious of my
looks<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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Over-thinking an
imaginary plan<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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I know you are out
there wondering about me<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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I know you will be
the right man<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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You will have to
tolerate if not love my humor<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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And, I will love
yours<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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You will have to
handle my independence<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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And, I will be
dependent on you<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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Our careers will
clash, I’m sure<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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But, we will make it
work<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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I’ll confide my
insecurities to you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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Knowing my security
will be in you<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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I’ll try to hold back
my tears to be tough<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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But, you’ll know the
softness of my soul turns to mush<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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I don’t try to be
perfect nor do I seek it<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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And, if you’re the
right one, you’ll love me imperfect<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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I’m sure we won’t
agree, we’ll argue and fight<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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But, I’m not so
stubborn enough to always be right<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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We will have
difference<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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But, I will love you
for them<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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You’ll love my love
of learning<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
Because there is much
I don’t know<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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People will wonder
about you<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
Ponder why I adore
you<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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But, those people
don’t know the love I do<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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The love I have for
only you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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I’ll hear song after
song<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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And, cliché after
cliché<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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But, I’ll wait for
you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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I’ll wait for that
day<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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I don’t rush into
anything<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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It’s not me<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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I’ll take it step by
step<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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But, you’ll wait for
me to catch up<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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You’ll be patient,
unlike some<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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You’ll let me have my
way, unlike others<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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If you are the right
one, you’ll hold my hand the whole way<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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And, knowing I’ll
come back, you’ll let me stray<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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So, we may be
tomorrow or ten years from now<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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But, I’ll wait for
you, my love, wait for that very day<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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Knowing we finally
meet, our love will know no bounds<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
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And, you’ll be my
love forever to stay.</div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
<em>-Lovely Bones<o:p></o:p></em></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
</div>
Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-67076315104827711572013-02-17T22:13:00.002-06:002013-02-17T22:47:36.100-06:00Valentine AftermathTo those who had bittersweet valentines:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Tears and Agony</div>
<br />
<br />
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Tears fall</div>
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Gently,</div>
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Slowly,</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
Lively,</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
Dead.<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
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Every tear is a short
life,</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
A saddened existence.<o:p> </o:p></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
We live long,</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
Happy</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
Until those little
tears come falling</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
Down,</div>
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Down,</div>
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Down,</div>
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Dead.</div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
May love find you in the future and embrace you in warmth. Don't ever give up. Love is out there for everyone. Even for those who believe they will never find it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
<em>Broken...Bones.</em></div>
Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-10938232808450224392013-01-30T23:25:00.002-06:002013-02-17T21:59:06.665-06:00Year of the B (13)Time really does fly. Busy doesn't even explain. But, I will start off 2013 with a couple of poems I have written recently. They capture a feeling I can't quite shake. Sometimes, it is more like a disease.<br />
<br />
<strike>1</strike><br />
Solitude's Pain<br />
<br />
I have a lonely heart.<br />
The pieces separated, scattered apart.<br />
<br />
I feel like everyone have someone, but me.<br />
I am just lonely.<br />
<br />
I feel like I'm the one God forgot.<br />
But, from someone God had me wrought.<br />
<br />
I wish for that moment when we are no longer apart.<br />
But, for now, I'll hide my lonely heart.<br />
<br />
<br />
<strike>2</strike><br />
Solitude's Medication<br />
<br />
I can sustain.<br />
Laughter and friendship dull the pain.<br />
<br />
I feel the wounds numb with love.<br />
As I cry for clues from above.<br />
<br />
A slip in the meds tears through my soul.<br />
And, I patch together before the bell tolls.<br />
<br />
I wonder if he wonders about me.<br />
My inner pain only he will see.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-46805106450164565542012-04-03T17:33:00.002-05:002012-04-03T17:33:36.221-05:00NAIA storiesThese stories are just a taste of what has been happening this year. The semester is almost over, so stress level is at a high.<br />
<br />
Justice is Served.<br />
<a href="http://www.naia.org/ViewArticle.dbml?DB_OEM_ID=27900&ATCLID=205405887">http://www.naia.org/ViewArticle.dbml?DB_OEM_ID=27900&ATCLID=205405887</a><br />
<br />
Chance of a Lifetime.<br />
<a href="http://www.naia.org/ViewArticle.dbml?DB_OEM_ID=27900&ATCLID=205358320">http://www.naia.org/ViewArticle.dbml?DB_OEM_ID=27900&ATCLID=205358320</a><br />
<br />
All-Americans Prepare to Satisfy Their Hunger.<br />
<a href="http://www.naia.org/ViewArticle.dbml?DB_LANG=C&DB_OEM_ID=27900&ATCLID=205343862&SPID=100296&SPSID=646078">http://www.naia.org/ViewArticle.dbml?DB_LANG=C&DB_OEM_ID=27900&ATCLID=205343862&SPID=100296&SPSID=646078</a><br />
<br />
I have several others, but they aren't up yet on the NAIA website, naia.org. I also remain to be the only sports reporter for Martin Methodist College. I'm hoping for recruits next year. It's stressful trying to do what I do for a bi-monthly newspaper. Maybe, with James's success, more reporters will come now that Martin Methodist College has a journalism major. We will see.<br />
<br />
<em>Bones</em>Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-82751610482949714862011-09-16T22:59:00.001-05:002013-02-17T22:51:07.838-06:00Let's just call it The Experiment for nowI got inspiration from the movie Limitless (I watched it for the first time today). Tell me what you think.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Desperate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quite desperate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never know such desperation such as
this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve got to get out of here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chuck some clothes into a bag and split.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s too dangerous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things have made this too dangerous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve made this too dangerous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need to get out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need to get gone.<a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Where the hell am I?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I’m in the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Someone’s following, but I can’t look back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking back only gives him the advantage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The second wave of adrenaline hits.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I’m flying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really flying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did I get up here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My body feels light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lighter than air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could fly to the moon if I wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could go anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s where I need to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not
want, but I need to go there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Waiting for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s been waiting a long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know if he will wait much longer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Now, I can feel gravity coming
back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s pulling me down to
Earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pulling to the ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I let it come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slowly because I don’t want to burn up in the
entry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I imagine fading into the clouds,
disappearing with the wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My hands are
gone, and I can feel the moisture of the clouds as they pass through me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I give the world an impish grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m completely invisible and penetrable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The world can’t see me, but I can see
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can see everything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Superman’s got nothing on me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I glide through the last wall of
thick, puffy clouds and see the lights of London sparkle like old glitter on
black paper, dazzling but dull to the eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was lucky to be this close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe, I should stop and take a break.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My stomach started complaining an hour ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, I can’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He’s waiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I start falling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My resistance is fading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dark shadows border my vision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will have to wait for just a little
longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wouldn’t want me to die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would be sad if I died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d tell me to land, to eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I gather up the remainder of my reserves and slow my fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lights are getting bigger and
brighter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tilt to the left to avoid a
building and drop the last fifty feet or so into some rose bushes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My visibility comes back, and I can feel the
pain of the thorns imbedding into my skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m quite glad I decided to wear sunglasses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This could have easily blinded me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t have time to lose my vision
today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would only inconvenience me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The pain begins to subside, and I
watch the wounds gradually heal, leaving tiny holes in my clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I scowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had grown to like this light blue shirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was snug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It didn’t drape or flutter in the wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I could slip away without getting snagged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This light blue shirt was like a second
skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I could find another one and
a pair of jeans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thorns are caught
within the seams, scratching up and down my legs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stumble out of the bushes, brushing the
loose thorns off my ruined shirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tiny
specks of red make the shirt and my arms seem polka dotted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An old homeless man across the cracking
sidewalk looks my way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His eyes are
glassy with a thick layer of film.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
breathe a sigh of relief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blindness has
its advantages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man reaches out with
one hand, groping the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know his
helplessness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was blind once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of those drugs they gave me made me
blind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walk over to the man and grasp
his hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gasps as the film in his
eyes recedes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I merge into the wind and
leave the man wondering in awe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t
take it away forever, but maybe he can find himself before it comes back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he will appreciate a second
chance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe he’ll be like some of
the others and try to find me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Try to
make me cure the problem, the disease, every time it comes back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t take it away, not that I would want
to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People have no gratitude for a
second life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I didn’t even have a first
chance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They took him away and dragged
me into a black van.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kept saying he
was sorry, screaming as they plunged the first needle in my neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My adrenaline was pumping, racing the filthy concoction
through my veins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Penetrating the very barriers
of my cells.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The drug was changing
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could feel it morphing my DNA,
changing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I gasped like that homeless
man, at first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then blood curdling
screams burned in my throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The searing
pain felt like white lightning attacking every particle of my being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to move, but even the slightest
twitch sent an eruption of flame that was beyond imagination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pain I never thought possible to bare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pain that slowly, inched its way behind my
eyes and swallowed my vision in a veil of white.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to claw them out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anything to make the pain go away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could hear him desperately shouting,
telling them to stop, to let me go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
wanted him to see me suffer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last
thing I heard was a door slam, and a car roaring to life before I blacked out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
But, I am no longer just some naïve
little girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes, I feel barely
human.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart can barely feel at all
unless I think about him, which is always.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He keeps me here, in the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The thought of him has kept me alive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I would lose myself if he was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But, I can’t think about that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ll become the monster that they want me to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll become an emotionless shell of a human,
fighting but never feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tearing
cities apart but never tearing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But,
I refuse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can make my own
destiny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will find him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swear on my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know he is out there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My brother is all I have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will
find him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pull on the new black shirt
and jeans that I swiped from some too big, too understaffed store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shirt fits tighter to my supermodel body
than the other one, and this one is long sleeved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t matter though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The jeans fit perfectly, which is a
first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe, I should go back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, the British police will be arriving soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to keep going, or the Doc will locate
me again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His spies are everywhere, so I
can’t stay long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My stomach grows,
louder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look around and spot a vendor
who’s distracted by the wailing sirens of the police.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I disappear, just in case, and snatch the two
trays of fish and chips from the cart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
not enough, but it will get me closer to Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The food is gone in seconds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
brush off any remaining crumbs, crack my knuckles, and take off down the road, surpassing
speeds even Flash couldn’t reach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will
find him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will find my brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swear on my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will find Collin.<o:p></o:p></div>
Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-78337786920552275112011-09-06T21:57:00.002-05:002011-09-06T21:59:52.399-05:00CompassionMy college is on the path to compassion...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/21503391">http://vimeo.com/21503391</a><br />
(if it asks for a password put in: advent)<br />
<br />
Let the world know that Martin Methodist College is on the path to compassion.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-32382479094084086762011-05-25T16:54:00.000-05:002011-05-25T16:54:21.027-05:00Taking a Step BackI decided to take a step back and make an outline of my novel. It's a very rough outline, but I have finally planned out the book. I have a plot, which I had worried it didn't, and I am building upon the skeletal structure.<br />
<br />
I've read this book called Your First Novel by Ann Rittenberg and Laura Whitcomb. It has helped me so much with several fears I've had.<br />
<br />
Progess has been made, and I finally can feel like I am getting somewhere. This story I have created will be amazing. And, no matter if it does get publish (I will definitely put tons of effort to get it published believe me), it will certainly be a story worth telling.<br />
<br />
If you are wanting to write your first novel or need some guidance, I have found some wonderful advice/knowledge/support in just one book. They have helped me relax and enjoy the ride in writing the story.<br />
<br />
I haven't finished yet. I'm only on just a skeletal outline. An outline I never considered to use. I always thought that tactic was a step you could skip.<br />
<br />
Well, I was wrong.<br />
<br />
Outlines are your friends. They keep you on track and have the objective of the story right in front of you. I set the story in front of me, and now, it cannot be changed...or forgotten.<br />
<br />
I tend to do that a lot.<br />
<br />
The next step...outlining each chapter. The first needs a little introduction that has my narrator/main character looking back to the beginning. It's harder than it sounds because you have to make it believeable. That's the hard part.<br />
<br />
James Patterson can do it. Perry Moore can do it. Rick Riordan can do it. Stephenie Meyer can do it.<br />
<br />
With the right words I think I can climb over this bump in the road. I say bump because there are larger hills and mountains down the way.<br />
<br />
Right now, I just have to get over this bump.<br />
<br />
I can't wait. :)<br />
<br />
<br />
<em>Silent Bones</em>Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-47541102101808570442011-04-19T20:48:00.000-05:002011-04-19T20:48:36.993-05:00An IdeaI wrote this over the weekend. I'm probably going to write a new one, but I thought it was cool how many song titles can be used in everyday conversations...this however is an exaggeration (obviously). Between each song title is five or less words that do not make a song title. It is meant to be funny, in a way. An experiment if you will...<br />
<br />
<br />
“Back to December” of “1985”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“Let It Be” because it doesn’t “Breakeven”.<br />
<br />
“When You Look Me in the Eyes” “I Can’t Stop Loving You”.<br />
<br />
I “Can’t Help Falling in Love”.<br />
<br />
You were my “Teenage Dream”.<br />
<br />
<br />
But, “This Afternoon”, I was “Paranoid”.<br />
<br />
<br />
“I Gotta Feeling” this was the “Last Time Around”, “The End” of “World War III”.<br />
<br />
You said, “Hey There Delilah”.<br />
<br />
<br />
“What the Hell”?<br />
<br />
“That’s Not My Name”!<br />
<br />
You said, “Who Do You Love”?<br />
<br />
“What’s Love Got to Do with It”?<br />
<br />
You say “Heartless” is “Who I Am”, and I “Love the Way You Lie”.<br />
<br />
<br />
But, you are just an “Olive and an Arrow”.<br />
<br />
I should have called “S. O. S.” the “First Time” I screamed “Help!”<br />
<br />
<br />
So, “Forget You” “Big Boss Man”.<br />
<br />
“Hit the Road, Jack”.<br />
<br />
“Good Riddance”.<br />
<br />
<br />
I “Won’t Get Fooled Again”.<br />
<br />
<br />
Instead, “I’ll Run to You”, “Johnny B. Goode”.<br />
<br />
Down the “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” “You Found Me” with “Teardrops on My Guitar”.<br />
<br />
<br />
“Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head” until I saw you.<br />
<br />
You knew “How to Save a Life”, to make things “Much Better”.<br />
<br />
I knew how to “Crush”, how to feel that “Burning Love” in my heart.<br />
<br />
“1234”<br />
<br />
I was “Over You”, “Tyrant”.<br />
<br />
“Hey Baby”.<br />
<br />
<br />
I saw a “Firework”.<br />
<br />
“Don’t Speak”. Just “Hold On”.<br />
<br />
<br />
He took me “Dancing in the Moonlight”.<br />
<br />
<br />
It was a “Welcome to Paradise”. I didn’t feel like an “American Idiot”.<br />
<br />
A permanent “Holiday” from old “Whatsername”. What a “Wonderful World” this could be!<br />
<br />
<br />
“Cupid” hit me with the “Lovebug”, and I was hooked.<br />
<br />
<br />
You didn’t say, “Let’s Go Get Stoned” or treat me like one of those “California Girls”.<br />
<br />
<br />
“Why Can’t I” just “Breathe”?<br />
<br />
I looked up to a “Smile”.<br />
<br />
“If Today Was Your Last Day”…<br />
<br />
<br />
“You Belong With Me”, he said.<br />
<br />
<br />
“When I Come Around”…<br />
<br />
<br />
I’ll be “With You”. “She Is” “Beautiful”.<br />
<br />
“Naturally”. I knew I would “Be Ok”.<br />
<br />
He pointed in the distance, “Here Comes the Sun”.<br />
<br />
“Hey, Good Lookin’”.<br />
<br />
“21 Guns” shot through me.<br />
<br />
But, I put on a “Poker Face” and said, “Hey Jude”.<br />
<br />
Who’s the “Cotton Eyed Joe”? I bet he “Gives You Hell”.<br />
<br />
<br />
I’m her “Working Class Hero”. Let’s go “Before He Cheats” again.<br />
<br />
“What About Now”? You think you’re a “Real Good Looking Boy”?<br />
<br />
I said, “What Did I Do to Your Heart”? I “Busted” you in “Memphis” and in “Sweet Home Alabama”. “Heaven Forbid” you go without being “Hot N Cold”. Calling “634-5789” for a good time.<br />
<br />
“Don’t Charge Me for the Crime”!<br />
<br />
<br />
Why not? “Can I Get a Witness”? You make me have “Suspicious Minds” and give me a “Love Lockdown”.<br />
<br />
<br />
“I Want to Hold Your Hand”.<br />
<br />
<br />
I’m going back to “The House That Built Me”.<br />
<br />
<br />
With someone who loves you “Just the Way You Are”, my love said.<br />
<br />
<br />
But, I’m “Fallin’ For You”. I “Gotta Be Somebody” to you. “Just Friends”?<br />
<br />
<br />
It’s too late to “Apologize”. You’re the rash of “Poison Ivy”. “Wake Me Up When September Ends” and see how I feel.<br />
<br />
<br />
He shook around with no “Mercy”.<br />
<br />
“My Life Would Suck Without You”!<br />
<br />
<br />
“What Goes Around Comes Around”, “Crazy”, my love said. We’re going “Home” “Tonight”.<br />
<br />
You’re “Over My Head”, and I won’t “Never Say Never”.<br />
<br />
His face was “Burnin’ Up”, but he left, mumbling “I Gotta Woman”.<br />
<br />
<br />
He pulled me away. “Tonight (I’m Lovin’ You)”.<br />
<br />
I smiled. “Goodbye, Apathy”. “Hello Beautiful”.<br />
<br />
<br />
A “Love Song” brought to life “In the End”.<br />
<br />
<br />
**"Never Say Never" is a Fray song. I may address this in another post about multiple songs with the same titles.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-90397291464062448762011-04-14T17:46:00.000-05:002011-04-14T17:46:12.335-05:00Easy ClassesToday, one of my classes did course evaluations.<br />
<br />
The teacher hands out a form for students to fill in, evaluating the performance of the teacher for future employment.<br />
<br />
Well, I loved this teacher. Her class was very easy...as long as you read the chapters before the test.<br />
<br />
Some of my classmates did not share this opinion. And, I believe they unfairly evaluated her. Most likely my classmates ignored the reading, didn't pay attention to her lectures, received bad grades on the test, but blamed her for their stupidity.<br />
<br />
Yes, stupidity.<br />
<br />
Her tests are multiple choice. Easy multiple choice, too. So, there seriously is no excuse for not having a good grade on her tests.<br />
<br />
The lecture is an abbrevated discussion of the chapter itself, and prior to the lecture, we watch a video on the chapter.<br />
<br />
The key to passing her easy tests? READ THE BOOK!! Open the textbook and read the chapter. Geez. It's that simple. Really it is.<br />
<br />
They are stuck in a high school midset that can't and won't work for college.<br />
<br />
Wake Up, People! College is College, not High School! Easy classes are hard to come by, so when they are thrown to you on a silver platter, take the classes with joy. They are a breath of fresh air from the harder college classes.<br />
<br />
Think people. Come on.<br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Silent Bones</span></em>Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-36608349443994556062011-04-10T22:51:00.011-05:002011-04-10T23:26:15.015-05:00Letter to My Wildest Dreams<div>Dear my dreams,</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>You are such curious things.</div><br /><div>Always leaving me wondering what you mean.</div><br /><div>You show me the strange, horrifying, comforting, and refreshing.</div><br /><div>Even some that are caressing or depressing.</div><br /><div>But, the message is never quite crystal clear.</div><br /><div>The truth, I think, we both seem to fear.</div><br /><div>A clue perhaps. A meager hint.</div><br /><div>Something other than the images you present.</div><br /><div>I stumble, fall, or freeze in scream.</div><br /><div>Please tell me, tell me, my troubling little dreams.</div><br /><div>You put me out and leave me to dry.</div><br /><div>The little I get only makes me cry.</div><br /><div>My little dreams, I only ask for a glimpse of the picture.</div><br /><div>For that glimpse will make my mind all the richer.</div><br /><div>I toss and turn but to no avail.</div><br /><div>And, now, I must be off, so I'll say farewell.</div><br /><div>You've made your point, so I'll just try to hang on.</div><br /><div>Because you take me on a ride a mile long.</div><br /><div>I'll lay down my head and try to convince you.</div><br /><div>But, you'll send me on another adventure, twice as wild as the last two.</div><br /><div>For as I lay down, you rise with the moon.</div><br /><div>Good-Night and Farwell, I'll see you soon.</div><br /><div>From,</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The Dreamer</div><br /><div></div>Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-82654811324492706442011-04-05T22:10:00.009-05:002011-04-06T11:19:43.688-05:00Free WritingOne of these days, I'll set me free. <br /><div></div><br /><div>I will go to the heavens where the stars shine.</div><br /><div>I will break my chains and flee the prison line.</div><br /><div>I won't care about status quos or people's thoughts.</div><br /><div>I'll live to the fullest, every day an evil plot.</div><br /><div>I will climb a mountain 50 stories high.</div><br /><div>I will fight evil with my love at my side.</div><br /><div>But, one day, when I'm ready, the Lord will call to me.</div><br /><div>One of these days, I'll set me free.</div><br /><div></div>Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-91698226567781398572011-04-02T00:26:00.013-05:002011-04-06T11:33:14.465-05:00I'm Still a Weird KidI think it's college. Seriously. <br /><div></div><br /><div>Earlier, I was playing Poke'mon Black on my Nintendo DS while watching Comedy Central's Dave Chappelle.</div><br /><div>Sometimes I wonder how I got to where I am with all this crazy stuff.</div><br /><div>In this coming week alone, I have an American Literature paper due, a Biology project due, a golf tournament at the end of the week, and two stories for my campus newspaper due at some point in the week.</div><br /><div>Just thinking about makes me want to flip on my silver DS and kill some creatures.</div><br /><div>But, I won't.</div><br /><div>I got to get to sleep at a somewhat reasonable hour.</div><br /><div>I love Comedy Central's stand-up acts. They are hilarious. Especially, when you're tired. Because everything is twenty times funnier. And, it's one of my favorite re-runs.</div><br /><div>I could be watching the news or doing something to enhance my knowledge, but sometimes you just got to be a weird kid to get through the day.</div><br /><div>I draw bunny cartoons, I write poems and stories, but on days like this, nothing is better than following a predesigned storyline with bright colored creatures that obey your commands.</div><br /><div>Love it.</div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Silent Bones</span></em></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>What do you do that makes you still a weird kid?</div><br /><div></div>Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-89647440220976340672011-03-17T22:49:00.004-05:002011-03-17T22:56:42.396-05:00Raise Your Glass to an Ode to St. Patrick"Another Round! Another Round!" Heard from the pub downtown.<div><br /></div><div>"Here, Here! Here, Here!" Throw down more beer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Clank, Clank! Clap, Clap! Forget about "on tap."</div><div><br /></div><div>"More beer! More beer!" Even the leps will cheer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dusk comes around, but still you hear, "Another Round! Another Round! Here, Here! Here, Here!"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Happy St. Patrick's Day to the Irish and all Irish heritage!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; ">( ) ( )<br />( ) ( )<br />....\<br />......\</span></div>Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-76361608662829427182011-03-16T15:47:00.003-05:002011-03-16T16:00:45.381-05:00Lights Out with No Good-NightAnything can happen in a flash.<div><br /></div><div>In a flash, a vibrant home becomes a hollow tomb.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a flash, a lively family becomes three distant strangers.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a flash, a happy man is on the ground surrounded by a pool of crimson blood.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a flash, a loving dog is stuffed in the mailbox, fur and skin bursting out of the cracks.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a flash, an adoring wife and mother falls to her knees, crying over the body impaled in a van.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a flash, an obedient daughter slides her knife a little deeper, never letting the scar close.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a flash, an unnoticed son can crack.</div><div><br /></div><div>Screams at the top of his lungs. Jumps in the seat. Ignores the brake.</div><div><br /></div><div>Police cars come, speed lightning fast. But, to no avail.</div><div><br /></div><div>For the life has passed.</div><div><br /></div><div>And, it all happened.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a flash.</div>Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-45373052734603369802011-03-15T23:35:00.003-05:002011-03-15T23:40:18.600-05:00-logWhy is it called a blog? Why not a wlog? Vlog means video blog, so why can't wlog mean writer's log?<div><br /></div><div>I am a writer after all, and this site is my log of writings.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, why blog?</div><div><br /></div><div>What does the "b" stand for? Brain?</div><div><br /></div><div>Brain log. That's interesting.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>What do you think about "blog"?</div>Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-39262097023807924432011-03-14T10:43:00.007-05:002011-03-14T11:46:25.766-05:003.1415926535...Happy Pi Day!<br /><br />(And, yes I did look up pi for the decimals)<br /><br />Will pi ever end? Like pie, I highly doubt it. Pie is awesome (and I wish I had some right now). Today, mathmaticians should be partying, having pie, celebrating the greatness of pie...er...pi.<br /><br />Celebration. That is the theme of this month. For me at least. Pi Day, Ides of March--Caesar's death (Brittany's birthday :P, President Andrew Jackson's birthday, Bret Michaels' birthday), St. Patrick's Day (family birthday), the Offical Last Day of Winter (March 19th which--you guessed it--another birthday, my best friend's), March 20th (golf teammate's birthday), March 24th (my fabulous roommate's birthday).<br /><br />Maybe March should just be know as the party month. I know more celebration-worthy events happening in March than any other month.<br /><br />It's crazy.<br /><br />No, really. It is.<br /><br />So, what is happening or what happened to you in the month of March?<br /><br />( ) ( )<br />( ) ( )<br />....\<br />......\<br /><br />Four-leaf clover if you couldn't guess. I'm not very artistic with computer signs. :P <--See.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-40900239843612804362011-03-04T13:12:00.002-06:002011-03-04T16:32:57.880-06:00Quite NaturalI pride myself as the wall. Blending in with only a look or two.<br /><br />I pride myself being the background, unnoticed. Working behind closed doors casting a shapeless shadow on the floor.<br /><br />My voice a whisper fading into the wind. Two words spoken but seem only an imagination.<br /><br />I stroll by, not in a rushed pace but brisk. Maybe too fast for you, that's just your loss.<br /><br />Never will I be the focus of a spotlight unless forced to. I will shy away because the attention scares me so.<br /><br />However, I pride myself being fluent in a language so delicate. Many dialects but I am fairly fluent in only two.<br /><br />With praise, I flourish the aspects of some. With covert operations, I hide my malice over others.<br /><br />Names are names, but what name can be given a person? What name can fully describe the person?<br /><br />None! None can! And, for that reason is the language given. For the master to weave a person from this name or name a person from the language.<br /><br />'Tis not as simple, as easy as we make it to be. 'Tis why we familiarize ourselves with others. A stranger or two.<br /><br />But, some are hard. They see only flaws and image. They are distasteful, crude, air headed, evil.<br /><br />They are all like that, too. And, they get nowhere. Fall on their faces, beg for lowly jobs. Or at least they will. It's their future.<br /><br />It's these I pride myself for. These faceless monstrosities. All the same, so I must give them a face. Perhaps even spare them a name.<br /><br />I have to study them, watch them move. An aspect or two maybe of interest but that's it. Add the "highlights" and done.<br /><br />A story that cherishes the person, idolizes. So annoying.<br /><br />Give me death! Give me heroic adventure! That I will spotlight for! That I will shine for!<br /><br />But, I must take my pride and wait. It's not quite yet. I another time or two before I'm set.<br /><br />I will take my pride and bloom beautiful flowers. Death will come to them, but they never last long do they?<br /><br />An orchard yearns to be born. One that lasts forever. And, I feel the anxiety that can't wait.<br /><br />The time is not yet ripe. I must take my pride, the language to paint a fair portrait or two.<br /><br />I must pride myself as I become the breath of the wind. Caressing, blissful but silent to the truth.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-22966093311371572292011-02-19T22:55:00.004-06:002011-02-19T23:43:56.649-06:00We are a little Crazy...but we don't careThe beginning of my second semester of freshman year has been tiring, fast. I just hadn't realized that mid-February is already here, and I have SO much to do. Golf practice I seriously need, papers that need written, newspaper stories to start, and oh, mid-terms are coming up.<br /><br />Can I hit pause? Just for an hour or two?<br /><br />Yeah, reality has smacked me in the face. Hard. And, a little wet.<br /><br />So, I have taken up poetry lately. Just whatever hits me with a hard passion. It's my outlet...well for now. I can't work on my novel in the middle of madness. Most of it is dark poetry which kind of scares me on one hand, but then again, it comes easy that way. Oh, Mr. Poe...<br /><br />One of my poems (that I haven't posted yet) really freaked me out. It depicted a girl having a tragic Valentine's Day. The narrator watches her crying as she throws her Valentine card into a river. I leave the ending open because at first I didn't know how to end it. So, I put it down and continued working on an outline for class. About ten minutes later (maybe more I don't remember), I get a text from my fourth roommate telling me her boyfriend broke up with her. I open my door at the same time my other two friends are coming down the hall. I think you can guess where this goes. I showed them the poem later, and they think I'm a fortune teller or something.<br /><br />The four of us just cannot go anywhere without each other. We are all on the same floor and only a few doors down. They are the best people ever, and I don't know why it took this long for us to find each other. We are quirky. We are strange, but we don't really care. We are just ourselves.<br /><br />I've been told before that the friends you make in college will last a lifetime. (I think this applies to my friends from Manchester, too.) And, we definitely will stick together in college. The future still remains a mystery. I can tell you though it will be crazy.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-57609866152368788252011-02-07T10:49:00.007-06:002011-02-07T21:36:28.178-06:00Washed AwayYou're a drifter. Drifting along in the sea of your unconsciousness. You only see the surface, to afraid to delve into deeper waters. The truth lies as a unknown creature. Perhaps friendly, perhaps death.<br /><br />So, you just float. No inner tube. No noodles. Just lay floating. Face up to the world. Bare back to the chilling touch of the waters.<br /><br />Be careful of depth perception. Don't let the unknown drag you under. Don't let your unconscious consume you. It is a tricky thing. The temptations. The wonderment.<br /><br />But, it's all for a trap. A trap you can't escape. Lost and confused. What is real? What is...a dream? Left screaming for the surface. Only glimpses come. The watery reflection. Distorted.<br /><br />You can't quite break through. The creatures tease and taunt you. Mock you. All you can do is take it. You're trapped. Crying in the cage they lock you in.<br /><br />Gone. Gone forever and a day. No one can reach you. The strong seem to approach you, but even they can't release you. They can't hear your cries. Your screams. A film that mutes your voice. Deafens your ears. Clouds your eyes. Only the cruel laughter.<br /><br />It drags you down. Further and further. No longer can you see the faint rays. Pitch black. Cold. Glowing eyes surround you. The cage is closing in. Smaller and smaller. Hunger all around.<br /><br />Growls escape their lips. Impatience. Die they say. Let us consume you. Let us destroy you. How can you refuse? You can go no where. Safety is long gone. Far away. You want to resist. But, you know it is to no avail.<br /><br />They crouch closer, feeling you give in. The cage bends, creaks, stabs into your skin. Oozing blood pours out. They go after your head. One last agonizing cry slips through, and they pour in.<br /><br />An ice cold splash of water smacks you in the face. A wave. The ocean. The sun beats down on you as you float on your back. The sea beneath you. A dream. Perhaps. But, the tingling sensation tickles your back. And, you swear you heard laughter.<br /><br />Not today. It's not time today. They tempt you more, but they know it's not today. Because your a drifter. Afraid of the deeper waters. Always have your back to the sea. For now you say. Your day will come. Tomorrow maybe. The day after, sure. But, not today. Not today.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-34119733760169972162011-01-12T13:09:00.004-06:002011-01-12T13:48:57.681-06:00Readers' Gossip on the WebOkay, so I am sitting in my dorm room bored. I decide to search Stephenie Meyer and J. K. Rowling because I want to see if they are working on ANYTHING, new books or additions to old series.<br /><br /><br />Well, for Stephenie Meyer I found out these two books...Midnight Sun and Blue Sun.<br /><br /><br />I know most people have read her website or a website on the whole Midnight Sun tragedy. I can understand why she is not working on that project. I don't know if she will ever work on it again in the future or if it will never be finished. So, don't ask. When I saw Blue Sun come up, I was like "WHAT!" This title came up on Wiki Answers. It could be true, or it might just be a wild rumor. According to Wiki Answers, Blue Sun will be about Jacob and Reneeseme (I apologize if I misspelled her name). Meyer definitely left Breaking Dawn open ended to their relationship. She's one of those authors who writing I crave to read because it's just fantastic. I really hope Blue Sun is true. I would really like to look forward to reading another book from one of my favorite writers.<br /><br />As for J. K. Rowling, I discovered she wrote a 800 word prequel to Harry Potter.<br /><br />She wrote it on a note card for a contest. The profits from it were to go to charity, which they did. The story was published but only 10,000 copies. If you look it up, you can read a two sentence description of the prequel. However, I probably will never get to actually read the whole 800 words. Simply searching Harry Potter prequel will get the results you need. As for a full length novel, J. K. Rowling has said no. I was kind of disappointed, but a prequel would only reiterate what we already know about Harry's parents. Would it be cool? Absolutely! Is it really necessary? No. Honestly though, I definitely would love to get my hands on the note card prequel. Rowling is amazing. She has been my number 1 favorite, and she always will be. And, whatever she releases next I will be sure to pick up a copy to read.<br /><br />That's all I got for now. If you know of any other authors who are releasing books (ones who haven't written a book in a while), feel free to post them. And, you are welcome to tell me more about these books (the ones above).Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-82450051757251066572010-11-08T16:59:00.002-06:002010-11-08T18:07:58.512-06:00Shedding Light on an Old ProblemI finally put a name to a problem that has been on my mind lately. How I didn't think of it before, I don't know. I guess it's because I've never had to deal with it...until now.<br /><br />Bullies. Bullying.<br /><br />We all know about it, and we all say that it won't happen to me. Dismiss it. Out of site, out of mind. But, that doesn't make it okay. That doesn't just get rid of the problem. We as human beings with feelings have to identify it and put a stop to it.<br /><br />The bullying is not happening to me personally, but rather to people around me. Still, these people are important to me, and the bullying needs to stop.<br /><br />Do the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">bulliers</span> know they are doing it? I have no clue. Perhaps they will read this because they also have close relations to me.<br /><br />I will address the types of bullying surfacing in the situations because I feel awareness will open the eyes of those people and others who also see the bullying happening.<br /><br />Physical.<br /><br />The most common type to witness out there. But, it also can be greatly overlooked in minor instances. Pushing, shoving, smacking, punching, and so on are the clear indicators of physical bullying, in an intentional manner of course. This is where the problem lies. We playfully hit each other nowadays, so actual physical bullying can be taken as rough housing instead of a problem. If you feel physically threatened or are being physically bullied, tell an adult. Your mom, dad, teacher, principal, friend's mom, or someone you know and trust.<br /><br />Verbal.<br /><br />So frequently passed over. Even I didn't catch this at first. Verbal threats, verbal abuse. Words can hurt just as easily as fists. The saying goes, "Actions speak louder than words." But words cut to the heart and soul. Words impact self-esteem and self-image. They can make you think twice about doing something in order to avoid the bullies. Some times no matter what you do those verbal abusers come back to bite anyways. All most anyone can fall into the bullier or victim position. And, I mean anyone of all ages, young to...adult. This type is so hard to identify because it can happen without conscience knowledge of it. I would advise tyring to tell an adult but also go to the person causing the problem. Tell that person what is going on, in a polite and friendly way, because chances are that person may not be aware of bullying you.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Cyber</span>.<br /><br />Personally, I haven't seen this arise yet within the people I care about. However, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">cyber</span> bullying still exists. Steps have been taken to vigorously stop this type, which may be why I am not seeing it in my home community. Does not mean though <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">cyber</span> bullying has disappeared completely. People monitor sites that host <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">cyber</span> bullying, but notify an adult if you see any sign of someone being <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">cyber</span> bullied. The <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Internet</span> can be the worst place, so I cannot stress getting the attention of help in order to stop <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">cyber</span> bullying.<br /><br />Bullies develop any where and at times without them even knowing. Get the attention of authorities or adults. When you find an adult, make sure the adult <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">can</span> actually help you because the adult could even worsen the problem rather than solve it.<br /><br />Bullies lead to emotional and mental distress. We need to put a stop to such a life scarring problem. So many good kids are out there being bullied. If only just a hand full of these bullies are stopped, many more kids could be free of a damaged life. Stop the torture. Stop the bullying.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-89292069676380266562010-10-07T13:02:00.003-05:002010-10-07T13:54:34.456-05:00Do you remember..."Eh, what's up, doc?"<br /><br />I love Bugs Bunny. Now and forever. I was never into Mickey Mouse as much as Bugs Bunny and his pals. Always outwitting Elmer <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fudd</span> and Daffy. Portraying himself as great in anything and everything he did. He was the top...bunny. I wish they would let him reign again. Bugs taught people of all ages important lessons in life. Never play with dynamite. Someone IS out to get you. Sarcasm is funny only up to a point. Guns are dangerous. Duck season over rabbit season. Aliens DO exist..., and they are out to get you. Even the smallest thing can pack a big punch (figuratively and literally). Bugs is my favorite. I draw my own bunny cartoon from Bugs inspiration.<br /><br />"I knew I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">should've</span> taken that left turn at Albuquerque."<br /><br /><br />He loves lasagna but hates Mondays. Another favorite of mine is Garfield. That scruffy, fat, orange and black cat always cracks me up. I've seen TV shows of him lately, but I think he's just more of a comic strip kind of cartoon. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the TV shows. I just think Garfield didn't have as much of a "water-down" personality that the television shows project nowadays. He's crude. He's rude. But, that's Garfield. He just doesn't really care about anything other than himself. Cat food? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Blech</span>. He would dump it on your head. This cat eats fine food. Lasagna being his absolute favorite, and it's also one of mine. I've got three <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Garfields</span> at home (one of which my dog eyes a lot). I am glad to say that Garfield cartoons still do exist in their full splendor. Hopefully, we can keep this way.<br /><br /><br />The world of cartoons and television shows has changed much. VERY much. I miss the Angry Beavers, Doug, Hey Arnold, Popeye, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">CatDog</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hamtaro</span> (yes, I watched the show about talking <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">hamsters</span>), Power Rangers (the original show not the ninth or tenth generation they are in now), and so many others that I can't think of right now. They were the best shows out there. At least, that's what I think. Yeah, they had all the "violence" and "other" content that make the parents of modern day drop their mouths open in shock. But, those cartoons had truth. They told kids to tell the truth and showed the consequences of lying! Some parents look at these shows in disgust because of all the double meanings people have put upon them! Think people! To me, it's better to watch the Coyote fall off the cliff a thousand times than to view some music videos put on YouTube. Society is much more...expressively chaotic. We have a wider acceptance of moral values now than a decade ago. It's hard sometimes to find a middle ground between the preschool counting "cartoons" and...well...Family Guy. Bugs Bunny has that middle ground. Just enough humanity to lead to a lesson with the dash of explosion on the side. A perfect dish. A classic. Don't see much of those lately.<br /><br />Cartoons are like wine. They age just fine.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-23234968998987371912010-10-04T22:42:00.005-05:002010-10-05T22:37:07.316-05:00Quote Me on Mondays!!I am going to take a page of "quotes" from this book my mom got me, <em>1001 Things Every College Student Needs to Know (Like Buying Your Books before Exams Start)</em> by Harry H. Harrison Jr., and write my opinion of them. These could be short or really long. It just depends on how it plays out.<br /><br />Okay, so from page 123 (how weird):<br /><br />393. You need to know taking notes will help you pay attention--which is, of course, the...uh...point<br /><br />This is so obvious, but notes are VERY important. You can never have too many notes. Even if the notes you took on the chapter took 15 sheets of paper...Notes can decide the grade you get on that ridiculously difficult exam you took last week...(groveling)...er...The professor may or may not send you notes so take your own anyways.<br /><br />394. You need to know if you can't read your handwriting now, there's no way you'll decipher them at the end of the semester.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Haha</span>. I could point this out to a couple of my friends, but I think they already know. If you can't read you own handwriting, you epically fail. Just kidding. Seriously, not knowing what your own handwriting says is a major problem. I would suggest typing your notes in class or get a program on your computer that will type the professor's lectures. Recording the lectures works, too, but I wouldn't try it. However, it's up to you.<br /><br />395. You need to know the Cornell Method for taking notes. Draw a 1.5 inch margin on the left. Take notes on the right side of the paper and add questions pertaining to the notes on the left side.<br /><br />I don't use this. It's too much of a hassle for me to do in class. I use the list method, which is pretty obvious as to how to do it. You can try this if you want, but I know for sure that this won't work for me. There are other methods besides this one and the list method, too. Just look them up. I'm too lazy and tired to do it right now. Ask me later.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-65724730597106050662010-09-23T23:33:00.003-05:002010-09-24T00:21:36.813-05:00"In the beginning was the Word"College life. It's always in motion. First, you're streaming down the fast lane, not quite sure how you got there or how to control the speed, and when you think you're just about to crash, you slow to a crawl. You have time. Spare time. The most precious thing for a college student.<br /><br />I have classes. Those classes require me to read in textbooks and learn from them. And, once I'm finally finished, I now have always one more book to read. The Book. The Word. The Bible.<br /><br />Yes, I have taken that leap into reaffirming my faith. My Baptist faith. I didn't just decide this out of the blue (well, maybe some might argue that but it's not out of the blue for me). Three of the greatest people I have ever met started the idea in my head because they have so many passages <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">committed</span> to memory. I barely knew what was going on.<br /><br />So, on I shall read. I am in Exodus in the Old Testament and John in the New Testament. Sometimes I take a moment to connect the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">genealogy</span> or reflect on the day's reading. I already feel closer to God even though I've only just begun!<br /><br />I am <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">learning</span> more of the New Testament since I have a New Testament class, but it's different. My professor assigned us a paper in there, and my topic is the concept of Jesus' family (I picked it to make that clear). I never knew there were such controversies over Jesus' brothers or Mary's virginity. Fortunately, today I found a book in the college's library that talks about his brothers and how they can only be Jesus' brothers. I looked up passages in my Bible to verify what the author was saying and eventually came to this conclusion (I don't know yet if I am going to include this in my paper): Jesus had four brothers, James, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Joses</span> (Joseph), Judas, and Simon, two sisters, and two cousins (that I have read of so far), James and John, who became Jesus' disciples.<br /><br />Other students here have different religions and beliefs. I understand that. I knew that. But, I want to stand strong in my faith. Stand as strong as a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">petra</span> (or rock) that only God can move!<br /><br />This won't take a couple of days, a week, a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fortnight</span>, or a month. I'll be finished in a year. Hopefully, I will have a few passages committed to memory, too.<br /><br />But, I'm only at the beginning. And, "in the beginning was the Word" John 1:1.Brittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6976437458054238947.post-36030367100824606262010-08-22T21:12:00.002-05:002010-08-22T21:37:26.787-05:00The Family DiaryI came up with this story idea a while, long while ago. It's about a single dad, Charles Cris, and a single mom, Melissa Jones, falling in love and getting married. The only problem at the wedding? Both families of seven have never met each other. So, Charles and Melissa create the family diary, a collection of entries by everyone in the new family. From the oldest of 22 to the youngest of 7 (this may change I don't have all the characters yet), the family tells of their ups, downs, and everything in between as they try to become somewhat of a "normal" family. Tell me what you think. I will put up the members of the family (that I have so far), and each member has his or her own personality. Also, I am writing each entry in a different font. Some time later I might post their personalities (although some may be obvious through the name).<br /><br />Cris Family:<br /><br />Charles-father<br />Corbin-21 year old son<br />Ginger-19 year old daughter<br />Jasper-18 year old son<br />Whittany-16 year old daughter<br />Dakota-14 year old daughter<br />Kennedy-11 year old son<br />Rockel-7 year old daughter<br /><br /><br />Jones Family:<br /><br />Melissa-mother<br />Nicholas-22 year old son<br />TBD-adopted<br />TBD-border<br />Steven-16 year old son<br />TBD<br />Achley-8 year old daughter<br />Ashley-8 year old daughterBrittany "Bones"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17213261333707320223noreply@blogger.com0