Posted by: shellyweave | September 26, 2010

musings.

This year has already changed me wholly and completely.

Being a senior is hard work.

Being on the verge of 18 is hard work.

This year has already changed me.

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Posted by: shellyweave | September 21, 2010

suzy homemaker

The majority of my day today was devoted to baking my famous (at least at school) Cajun Brownies, clipping stems and arranging petals in vases, and scrubbing dishes. I bought my sisters gifts, wrapped them in silly bags adorned with Yoda and Spiderman, and laid them out on the counter. I folded, wiped, mixed, and presented, to my family’s surprise, a lovely spread of matronly-made treats.

Because it was Tuesday. And I can.

Posted by: shellyweave | September 16, 2010

titles are annoying to write.

All of this crazy mumbo-jumbo has me in a bind.

In English class we read poetry that tears open your mind and reveals something about yourself– and by yourself, I mean  the proverbial “yourself”– that you never knew before. I find  myself sitting there actually thinking, which for our society nowadays seems like a stretch. I read poems by Dickinson, Poe, Neruda, Shelley,  Hughes, Angelou, Cummings and Frost, who write about love, death, lust, life, longing, nature, and sadness–things that touch the soul and spin the cogs inside of our minds and I get sad. I become sad for our culture, for our lack of knowledge of things full of beauty, for our lack of the full understand of the comfort that the rhythmic pattern of words can bring to a person, and for our lack of drive to strive after those things.

I’m prompted to read books like Atlas Shrugged and Brave New World, among other works of literature, that speak of ideologies that urge us to go against the normal, to find the truth in a society sheltered by lies. These are pure stories. I feel like we no longer feel the need to strive after change, that we have become a modified less gruesome image of the worlds depicted in Huxley’s and Rand’s novesl. We are too comfortable.

We live surrounded by these superfluous comforts that I speak of yet, even I am not willing to give them up. I can speak out and say that our world will never change, that we need people to lead our country, our world into new directions, but I cannot say that I will be the one to do so. I can say that we need to expand our minds by de-emphasizing the knowledge base around us–for I fear that the more we learn the less we truly know –yet, I don’t know if I am willing to give up the easy access to information that this world provides us with. That is what our generation has become. We are the generation that has the most access to any  and all forms of knowledge, we have the easiest ways to spread our ideas to the world surrounding us but, we also remain the generation with the least profound things to say. We need people who speak of love, death, lust, life, longing, nature, and sadness, but maybe there is nothing left to speak upon, maybe there is nothing new to say.

It is not like I am saying that we should fully return to the days where we were without technology, but sometimes it would be easier. The more we are bombarded with knowledge about our universe, our world and the way things work the less beauty, the less substance comes out of life. There is no more mystery. There is nothing more to muse upon, to wonder about, to write about. Once life becomes over formalized, everybody sticks to the mold.

I worry that nothing will come out of our generation. I worry that we will not produce philosophical men and women like the writers and thinkers of the days past. I wonder if eventually, we will run out of things to say. What if nobody steps up and takes on those roles? What will happen to us, I cannot say but I do wonder.

I don’t mean to formulate a biased opinion, for surely not every person can be this way. There are those out there, musicians, writers, creators, dreamers, who have found a way to keep the beauty of philosophy and thinking alive. They do exist, but I feel like they are few and far between.

Possibly I am formulating my beliefs based on the way I view myself. Based upon the fact that I feel, every day, that I have so much more potential than I live out. That I go through the motions of living and breathing but don’t express the highs and lows, that I stay blissfully unaware of myself and what I do. Maybe I push my own attitudes and actions onto the rest of the world because I am jealous. I am jealous of the beauty that people can create with words, song and ideas and I want to take some of that beauty and make it my own, I don’t want to be a waste. Let’s not make this generation a waste.

Posted by: shellyweave | September 11, 2010

where i was.

A lot of people like to discuss where they were on September 11, 2001, when those towers fell. As someone who has a vivid photographic memory of every insignificant event I’ve experienced since I was like three, I am thankful that for once I can recall a detailed account of this significant day.

I was in fourth grade and that morning I stumbled out of the hallway of our old house and my mom was sitting in her old gray computer chair at the end of it, fixated on something I couldn’t see. I ran to her, hugged her, and shouted “happy birthday!” but was quickly hushed. My mom didn’t even look at me, and her eyes were wide and terror-stricken. I remember following her gaze, over the tiled patch in front of our door, the back of our new leather couch, the throw blanket sitting on the floor from whoever used it last, the remotes haphazardly tossed on the coffee table, a hot pink flier from the previous Sunday at our church announcing dinners and youth events. And then I saw the TV, and even at 10 I knew what I was seeing was absolute devastation as my mother and I silently watched the second plane hit, the knowing look spread across the news anchor’s face.

Because these were not an accident.

It was difficult to get ready for school that morning, my sisters and I were confused, my dad was already at work, my mom was glued to the television to find answers that would not come for awhile. Even when we were finally seated in our desks at school, the TV remained on. My teacher, Mrs. Robertson, watched the news diligently in lieu of a lesson. It was a half day for some reason, I cannot remember why after nine years, but I remember watching for suspicious planes on the way home.

“Terrorists” and “conspiracies” were words that followed the shocking video footage of people falling from the buildings, crying, lost. I didn’t know who radical Muslims were, or why they became the enemy. I didn’t understand anything.

The closest my family got to the twin towers was a great aunt who worked at the MTV Studios just a few blocks away, but we had already heard from her and she was fine. I didn’t lose anyone  in that tragic event, but I hurt for those who did, and I hurt for those that are still losing their sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, moms, dads, cousins, and friends in the war that ensued. I have a bitter hatred for war, but a reverence so strong for the men and women who are willing to fight it to keep us free.

God bless our troops.

Posted by: shellyweave | September 6, 2010

mix-mashed-jumble-of-nonsense

I feel like I have lost all my inspirations as a writer. I’ve suddenly become timid and weak minded and full of conventional, close-minded thoughts. My spelling has become a wreck and I can’t even begin to think about my grammar without cringing. (Spell check is saving my life right now and proof reading has become a necessary evil.)

I’m sitting here trying to write some insanely amazing newspaper articles for my school newspaper and I am falling oh so short. It’s like the “use it or lose it” theory really has come into play in my life. I haven’t written coherently in over a month and as a result my inspirations and thoughts have turned into a jumble of mix-mashed mush inside of my brain.

The cause is really unable to be pinpointed. My writing skills just up and left me one day.

Tonight, my prayer, is that I can get it back.

My prayer is sent to that God who has granted so many prayers before, and denied an equal number. Tonight, I hope that He can see this one through. That it is in His will to grant me some thoughts of some sort of provoked wisdom. That writing will once again become effortless, and not something that I have to force myself to do. So writing, come back to me. I miss your eloquent flow from my typing fingers.

The only plus side to this madness is the intense jump in my crazy, random, silly poetry writings. They have gone through the roof. It’s like it is physically impossible for me to be creative poetically, strong argumentatively and  bold with my thoughts at the same time. One always over powers the other.

On a somewhat side tangent, I had a dream the other night that I shaved my head. In this dream I was completely bald and although I cried for the entirety of the dream, it was not a feeling of fear or a feeling of shame, but the feeling of freedom and rawness that scared me. My math class dream interpreter Sydney told me it meant I was ready to show another side of myself, that I was ready to open up and let go. Dreams are beyond intriguing. I’m enraptured by the mind and the way that it works. I don’t know where I’m going with this (again it is the intense writer’s block kicking in.)

At least I have been able to speak my mind to this tiny little site that is slowly sliding to a complete halt. Even if not one single person cares enough to read, I still care enough to write. I’m trying to care enough to write. I just wish I knew that one person cared enough to read.

Posted by: shellyweave | September 3, 2010

hkjhkjh

gkjhkjhkj,

Posted by: shellyweave | September 2, 2010

.

Under these circumstances, I’m filled with inhibitions and I cannot express myself fully in writing, in words, in expressions or in character.

Posted by: shellyweave | August 25, 2010

some more car moments

Cars cars cars. I swear they only exist to cause trouble. For the past month, my car’s break light has been coming on and off periodically. That ominous little break light has been the bane of my existence every time I set foot on the brake pedal. After telling my Dad about it MULTIPLE times, he finally got me a new set of expensive, over-priced breaks (only after finally seeing the pesky light turn on for himself… but his trust is another issue).

In addition to crazy breaks that can’t decide if they are broken, my truck recently decided that its battery would die–on a morning it was important for me to get to school on time. The CD player has been on the fritz and the steering wheel cover is leaking some mysterious black goop that gets on my hands every time I make a left turn. So many problems that have all arisen at the same inconvenient time.

(Oh, and a little word of advice: If you are ever car dancing to Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” and find yourself getting a little out of control in the jiggly car dancing, screaming at the top of your lungs world, check all your mirrors to make sure you are NOT driving parallel to a boy who, for a known fact, has some fascination with showing up in  yours and your best friend’s lives at weird times. It would be an all around awkward situation for you both, especially since he happens to be your co-editor on the school newspaper, you don’t know him that well, and you have a year to have to deal with him).

Posted by: shellyweave | August 24, 2010

it’s not you, it’s me.

Dear Deux Voix,

I would just like to apologize. I have totally neglected you in the last few weeks. Between work, school, and family/friends I just have not had time to update you. And I feel horrible for that. I truly truly do.

Bottom of my heart status. I swear.

So I feel as though I should update you on my life. But nothing has happened really. I’ve just been drowning in homework that I still manage not to get done, and work that I DO get done. And I really enjoy it. I think I might start a new project where I handwrite or draw something to post every once and awhile.

I would say every week but we all know how that would work out. (AGAIN SORRY. Forgive me?)

Any way, another thing I’ve been working on was moving all of my photography stuff from one website to a new one. I’ve made the switch to Tumblr and so far I like it, and I’ve finally settled on a theme that I like. If you feel so inclined you could check it out at swphoto.tumblr.com. I think it’s come along nicely. It’s just clean enough for my liking 🙂

Love youuuuuuu.

Posted by: shellyweave | August 19, 2010

AAA.

Awed by the God that created human nature. Amazed by the changes life can bring. Anxious for the future.

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