The Road not Taken by Robert Frost

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Fairytale.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who lived in a tower. All the men in the countryside tried to climb up the tower to save her, but no one could pentrate it's walls and no one could climb so high.

Then finally, a handsome prince rode up, and dominated the tower so easily. He crept into her fortress and he stayed there. Many months had passed when suddenly the prince said to her, "We're going to build this tower higher. We're going to capture the moon." Her eyes were filled with happiness. So, the next day they built. The tower grew higher and higher and the walls grew thicker and thicker. Just when she thought they could reach it he turned to her and said, "We can't."

He lept down from the tower. There she stayed. She was comforted only by the memories and the hope that lay before her.

One day, a handsome man walked up to the tower, looked up, and started climbing. He reached the middle of the tower, when suddenly he became stuck in the tower's walls. She pleaded with him to try harder. He was free once more and resumed his conquest. His other foot became stuck. She urged him forward. He released his foot and attempted again. This time, he stumbled. He fell a short distance and as he was grasping at the tower walls, he said,
"Dear Princess, you're still so far away. No matter how much I try, I will never penetrate this tower. I give up."

He lept down. He rode away on his horse. The tower walls were too thick. The tower walls were too high. She was left alone in her seclusion, once more.

The phone call.

She was sitting at her desk, typing away. She was glad to have this busy work. She had been wearing high heels all day and nothing felt better than to sit down, even for a little while. As she looked up at the clock that mindlessly stared, she felt as though time was moving inexorably. She knew as soon as the small hand hit 5, she would have to manage her life again.
Work was simple. She didn't need to think about anything besides numbers, entering those numbers into the computer, and fraternizing with co-workers at the water cooler. It was 4:58 now. Maybe I could stay late today. All these numbers need to be entered sometime, she thought. However, regardless of her want to stay, she'd rather not ask. She knew the answer would be a sturdy, No.
She started gathering her things together, putting pens and papers away, and situating her desk so as to not give herself a headache in the morning. A mess just leads to a bad start. I just have to make it until 8 a.m. tomorrow. Just 15 hours. I can do this. She picked up her car keys and headed for the time clock. The clock would finalize her depression.

Her punching out process was complete. Her walk to her car begun. The parking lot was full of people at this time, all wanting to hurry home to get to their kids, or their husbands, or even their cats. She had none of that. She saw it at the edge of the parking lot, her 1999 toyota corolla with a ding in the right side door. How pathetic, she thought.

She unlocked and climbed in. Her phone started to ring. Hoping it was her boss asking her to come back, she grabbed it. The number was unknown. Ignore.

The ride home was long and boring. The radio blared some inaudible music that she didn't care for, however, she didn't bother to turn it off. It was a droning process, and she liked keeping her eyes and attention fully on the road.

Her one bedroom apartment approached. Her reserved parking space was taken, yet again, by a ford ranger. It aggravated her. She pulled up beside it, looked it over and shrugged. It just wasn't worth the effort. Her phone started ringing. Unknown number. Ignore.

She climbed the stairs. She unlocked her front door. *Ring*. Unknown number. Ignore.

Her curiousity started getting the best of her. This number, it kept calling. She knew of no one who would try to contact her this urgently.

*Ring*. It was the unknown number. Finally, she answered it. Her interest had peaked.

"Hello?"

No answer.

"Hello?"

Still nothing.

"Listen, you've kept calling me. The least you could do is answer me."

Her frustration rose. Nothing.

"Fine, whatever." As she was just about to hit end, she heard breathing on the line.

"I know you're there!"

As her voice rose, she could hear it through the other end of the phone. Someone was there.

"Hello?!"

Again, she could hear her echo through the phone.

"I know you're here." She stated flatly.

She heard footsteps behind her. She turned. It was him. He spoke.



"You don't know anything."

Cynicism vs. Optimism

The world is meaningless, there is no God or gods, there are no morals, the universe is not moving inexorably towards any higher purpose. All meaning is man-made, so make your own, and make it well. Do not treat life as a way to pass the time until you die.
Do not try to "find yourself", you must make yourself. Choose what you want to find meaningful and live, create, love, hate, cry, destroy, fight and die for it. Do not let your life and your values and you actions slip easily into any mold, other that that which you create for yourself, and say with conviction, "This is who I make myself".
Do not give in to hope. Remember that nothing you do has any significance beyond that with which imbue it. Whatever you do, do it for its own sake. When the universe looks on with indifference, laugh, and shout back, "Fuck You!". Remember that to fight meaninglessness is futile, but fight anyway, in spite of and because of its futility.
The world may be empty of meaning, but it is a blank canvas on which to paint meanings of your own. Live deliberately. You are free.

Starting over.

I feel the past year of my life has been a re-do. That nothing I had done in the past was ever good enough or right, so this year I was making up for all the wrong that I had done and was trying to start my life over again.

And now, I'm having to start over again. Completely pull a "re-do". I attempted it wrong the first time, and now I have to pull a card out of my back pocket that says, Go back to the beginning.

Does starting over actually work? What exactly does it entail? Can you even start over? I've been told time and time again, that you can never start over, what's done is done, and what happened in the past can never be erased. You have to dig your way out of the hole that you dug, dust off your knees, and start again that way. I've never tried looking into that hole that I dug, and start filling it back up.

WordWeb online describes starting over as making a fresh start from the beginning or wiping the slate clean.

Well...okay.

These kinds of mornings.

I had quickly drank my pink milk that my lucky charms had left over and slung my backpack over my right shoulder. I heard my mom's quick shuffle over the hardwood floor.
"Honey, do you want your apple cider before you go?" I grabbed the drink that my mother had proudly made for my walk. I unlocked the front door and headed out. The air was filled with cold moisture and the ground was still rain soaked from the night before. My sneakers parted the grass as I walked through it and soon my feet were hitting the blacktop. I pulled my hood from my sweatshirt over my head, for the air was making my face damp. I was carrying my cider with both hands and lifted the hot beverage to my mouth. The Christmas taste left me with a smile.

This is the kind of morning that I miss. My walks to the bus stop. My apple cider on the way there. The birds gossiping to each other. The sun rising while I walk. Sitting on the curb, waiting on the bus. Listening to my favorite music. The cold humidity slowly drenching my face. Hair pulled back in a ponytail with my favorite sweatshirt and my favorite pair of jeans.
The feeling of having all my homework prepared, ready to turn in. All of this leading up to a good day at school. Call me crazy, but I miss sophomore year. Things were much effortless then. Only the anticipation of getting my driver's license hung in the air. Things were manageable, straightforward, and uncomplicated. Things were simple.

Holier than Thou.

This is the ideal philosophy shared by many of today's "crazy christians". However, not even just the crazy ones, the "normal" ones too. The Holier than Thou concept is one of many things that annoy me about organized religion. I know everybody hates the girl that claims to be "more spiritual than religious", but it's true. That's what I am. That's who I am. I may not exactly know what I believe, and I can't pinpoint it exactly, but I do know that I hate despise organized religion. The Holier than Thou idea is what bugs me the most. It's a bunch of people who can look at you and say, "In the eyes of the Lord, I'm more clean than her," and feel no shame in judgement. They are judging, and feel...nothing. It's these people, who will never come out and say that they are better than me, but obviously think that, that make me lose hope in humanity. It's not the people who are in charge of BP, it's not the people who kicked that bum's coin jar, it's not even the simpletons that Las Vegas houses. It's Holier than Thou Christians. These people will be our downfall.

For example, it's that girl in youth group, the one you shared your secrets with. Then later on, during prayer time, she brings them up, in hopes of "praying for you". Are you kidding me?

I get it though, some of the things that I do would be considered immoral, however where do you get off acting like you are better than me? How dare you. How dare you judge me even for a second. You are neither perfect, nor "holy", so stop acting like the present day Jesus. You're not. You're a hypocrite. That is exactly what you are.

Now, many Christians out there are going to read this post and say, "Hey! I know I'm not perfect! I do that sometimes, but I try not to! Blah Blah Blah!" First of all, calm down. I know not every person out there who believes in God is doing this. I know not every one of them is a hypocrite. There are many who act on what they believe, and that is something to admire. What I am saying is: Never look down upon someone who is different and may not share your common beliefs...we are all human. We have this thing called "free-will". Maybe you've heard of it. Well, if you haven't, it's something that every human on the face of this planet possesses. It's something that allows us to make our own life choices, whether it lead to something good or bad, it's our choice.

So attention to all Holier than Thou buttheads: Shut up. No one wants to hear it anymore. You are no better than us "mere mortals," so shove a sock in it.

The joys of looking at the past.

I found this. This is something I wrote back in May.

Surprises (5/21/10)
Surprises. I keep waiting for one to show up, waiting for someone to be different than all the rest, and just…surprise me. I want someone to go out of their way to show me that they care. To show something about themselves that makes them different than all the rest. If I do something, is it wrong for me to expect the same in return? Blow me away. Show me how to see you. Show me if you are worth my time.
Sadly, no one has yet proven this to me. No one has looked at me and said, “Katie, I care about you, now, let me show you.” I just want to be surprised. That’s all.

I think I had every intention of posting this on my blog. Sharing my heartache, wallowing in my own self pity, but for some reason...I refrained. I look at what I wrote that day, and I can remember exactly how I felt, exactly what was going through my head. I can remember how sad I was. I can remember everything about that day, even the thought running through my head that said, "This won't change." Maybe that is why I refrained. Maybe I thought that if I posted it, I would get some deserved attention, but that's where I kept going wrong. Every pity party I would throw, every tantrum, every blog that went on and on and on about some sort of rant...was irrelevant. So I took a step back. I didn't post it. Now I'm glad I didn't.

I'm glad because what I said there, happened. I met someone who blew me away. Gave me everything I wanted and more. He surprised me. He's different from all the rest.

Sunburns

I like sunburns. They make me feel alive. I know that sounds a bit strange, but they do. It's like taking away proof of a good day. Everytime it's touched, or it hurts, it's a gentle reminder that you lived that day. You experienced.

When I get a sunburn, it hurts. It hurts a lot worse than other people's, I wager. I'm naturally very fair skinned. I fake bake because if I don't build up some sort of foundation, it's like, BAM! Skin Cancer! But I digress.

But this pain that I receive from this sunburn makes me happy. I can say to other people, "Please don't touch me there, I had a bad ass weekeend and here's the proof." I can say, "I was out walking around on the strip, and this is what happened."

If you agree, let me know. But I like them, and I'm about to go get one...right now.