The Moon

 She often wished she could meet the moon; he looked like a jolly smiling man having the time of his life up there among the stars. He was always bathed in sunlight, and instead of soaking it all up for himself, he reflected it back to earth. What a kind, gentle being he must be! She imagined the conversations they'd have. He'd tell her all about his life watching over the earth and she'd tell him all about her life living on it. She imagined it'd be like Lucy's tea with Mr. Tumnus: two creatures alien to each other yet warm and cosy and talking like old friends. The moon already felt like a familiar comrade. The world looked like a less friendly place when his smiling face didn't shine upon it. 

♥♥Kristin

Time

via

Time is a funny thing, really. Sometimes it meanders, sometimes it trickles, sometimes it passes and sometimes it doesn't. But sometimes, sometimes Time runs. These are the days spent at amusement parks, the nights before the big exams, the moments you spend with someone before you must say goodbye. It's funny how Time tends to do the opposite of what we want. It's really rather stubborn. It doesn't have legs, but my, how fast it can run when you're desperately pleading it to stop.

Snippet {11}

Because lately I've had the strongest urge to write...

It was one of those sleepy days when you don't have much to do and you don't expect much to happen. She lay on her stomach on her favorite yellow blanket, toes woven into the grass and a book balanced delicately on the ground in front of her. She had been reading it, but a bird song had distracted her and she now stared absently into the branches of a nearby tree, daydreaming again. Tendrils of hair brushed her cheek in the breeze. The pleasant warmth of the sun lay on her arms and legs, the early sting of a developing sunburn going unnoticed. She'd feel it that evening. Every now and again, a small smile danced across her lips and she would release a small sigh. It made you wonder just what was on her mind. It was clear that she was lost in a world of her own making. The real world would just have to wait.

♥♥Kristin

Musings

{mine}

♥♥Kristin

Snippet {10}

She rested her head on her arm and watched, mesmerized, as the tea diffused through the bag and into the water. If only life could always be this simple, she though, dropping an ice cube into the mug to cool it (she was too impatient for small sips). She spooned sugar into the mug and carefully stirred the tea into a whirlpool until she was sure the sugar had dissolved. This evening ritual was what brought her comfort, the one constant in her life of change. She wrapped her hands around the mug and brought it to her lips, drawing in the citrusy aroma before taking the first sip. She closed her eyes as the warmth slid down her throat and spread a calm through her body. These small moments, she realized, were what made life worth living.

♥♥Kristin

A Snippet {9}

So, yeah, it's been forever since I posted a snippet. This isn't even something that I wrote recently, but it's something. I really need to get back into writing again...

He felt sometimes that words complicated things too much. With words, you had to find a way to arrange them to convey the things you felt so that everyone else would know. The only problem was that often, and especially when it came to her, words couldn’t possibly describe the way he felt. When her arms went around him, when she kissed the tip of his nose, when she smiled up into his eyes, when she whispered the words “I love you” into his chest- these were the times when he simply could not find the words to tell her how he felt. When “I love you” didn’t quite cover the depth of emotion he felt for her. What can you say when there are no words?

♥♥Kristin

The Mountains

via

Amidst the constant tumult of life, there was one thing that never failed, one thing that never left her. The mountains were always there, as close as her next heartbeat. She’d fallen in love with their jagged tree-covered peaks, cool green in the summer, caught on fire in the fall, stripped bare in winter only to grow green and new again every spring. Their every mood was as familiar to her as the rhythm of her own breaths. Her favorite was when they were dappled with cloud shadows and sunbeams on a late summer day. Even if she ever left them, they’d still be in her heart as all constant friends remain.

♥♥Kristin

A Snippet {8}

Humans: the hopers of improbable hopes and the dreamers of far-flung dreams. Because of this it may be said that they are arguably stupid creatures, but it cannot be denied that they are also among the happiest. They allow fickle emotion to overtake their heart and call it love. They call this the happiest of emotions though it often causes the most pain. Such difficult beings to understand, yet so simple in their complexity. She couldn't help but fall in love herself with every last one of them.
♥♥Kristin

Two Belated Snippets {7} && An Update

Sometimes the words just didn’t come. Some days she spent more time wracking her brain for the words than she spent writing them. These were the days that made her want to give up, that made her question her dreams and abilities. She didn’t know what exactly it was that kept her going. Maybe it was the satisfaction of seeing pages upon pages of words that she herself had formed and combined from 26 simple letters. Maybe it was the joy she felt when others complimented what she’d written. Or maybe it was the exhilaration of spilling her mind on the paper. Whatever it was, she knew that no matter how hard she might try, she’d never stop writing.

 ~~~~~~

The dull roar of chatter flowed around her, half a dozen conversations none of which she was a part of. It was funny: she felt less lonely when she was alone. It was moments like these when the feelings began to gnaw in the pit of her stomach. Friendlessness and insecurity blanketed by a vague sense of depression. Someone turned to ask her a vapid question. A false smile and short forced reply hid her emotion too well. Unappreciated. Unloved. All she wanted was someone to make her feel less alone in a crowded room.

These are both very autobiographical. Much of my writing is, after all. And now, the update: I am not going to continue with my project 365. I feel terrible that I committed to something that I didn't follow through on. I honestly did think that I was going to do this. It just turned out to be harder than I'd envisioned, more time consuming. For now, I'm calling it quits. The tumblr will stay up, but I will not be posting on it anymore (for the time being). I'm not going to stop writing, I'm just going to stop doing it with a timeframe.
♥♥Kristin

A Letter.

Dear You,
I think you're pretty wonderful. You don't know that, but only because I've never told you. And I probably never will. You'll never actually read this letter. Guess I'm just too chicken, but I like to tell myself that it's because I believe the male should initiate such conversations. See, basically, you're one of my closest friends. Maybe you don't even know that. I love the way we can start a random conversation and somehow we keep coming up with things to talk about. I love how we have all of this inside jokes (I loathe you. ((But not really, not at all)) ). I love that face you make when you're trying your hardest not to laugh. I love the way you're always kind to everyone, you always include everyone. You're just a really nice person in general. I'm not saying that I'm in love with you or anything crazy like that. I'm just saying that if you were to ask me to be your girlfriend, I'd probably say yes. Because like I said before, I think you're pretty wonderful.
Yours truly,
Me

So yeah. This is pretty personal. I guess I just needed to get all of this down somehow. I'm thinking maybe some of you can relate.
♥♥Kristin

Driving at Dusk//Snippet {6}

The strangest things can make me sentimental. Things like driving with the windows down in the October Indian Summer into the sunset. The scents of fall and sunshine waft through the windows, and I can't help but feel at peace with the world. As evening falls, the indirect sunlight of the golden hour bathes everything in the glow that makes your daydreams seem touchably close. For now, this moment is everything. Life contained in the soft breeze that caresses my face.

Admittedly not my best work, but at least I'm writing. Writer's block is really hitting me hard. I was kindasortamaybe considering doing NaNoWriMo this year, but at this rate I can't see that happening!
♥♥Kristin

A Snippet {5}

She drummed the keys with her fingers, wracked her mind for the words, but they wouldn't come. She knew they were there, lodged in her brain: she could feel them pounding their way into a fierce headache. She dropped her head into her hands and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to visualize the words, to force them out. She hated the weight of them, knew that once they were let out she would feel so much lighter. Now, they just rattled around in her head, tauntingly just out of her reach. If only there were some way to flush them out.

I've been kinda struggling with writers' block lately, so... this is what you get.
♥♥Kristin 

A Snippet {4}

This is definitely something different than my usual snippets. Normally, when I post a snippet, that's all there is to it. Those words are all there is of that story. This time, I'm posting the beginning of what is potentially going to be a longer story. Opinions would be much appreciated!

     “Here.” He handed me a single piece of notebook paper folded in quarters. He’d called earlier and said he wanted to see me. Not with her, the way I normally visited, but just me. When I’d gotten there, he lay in the hospital bed, looking no better or worse than what had become the usual. This cancer thing was taking a lot out of him, but he was being strong. “Will, I’ve wanted to tell you this countless times, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry. Just-” His voice broke, “Just read this. Once you get home.”

     “Okay. Of course, I will, Dev. Is there, are you…” My voice trailed off, because I couldn’t find the words anymore. Fear too often choked them back. A constant fear that one day he’d just slip away. One of the very best friends I’d ever had.

     “No,” he said. “It’s not… no. I’m fine.” Too many unfinished sentences, too many words left unsaid out of fear on my behalf and reassurance on his. We spent the next half hour talking of lighter things. Of music, new movies, old friends. Of her. He worried about her, he said. Worried that she was taking everything harder than she’d ever let on to either of us.

     She was our best friend, the three of us nearly inseparable since the day we met, on our first day of work, sticking together because alone was too much too handle. Though we became a part of the larger group quickly, the three of us still gravitated together. There was something that held us together, something more than the casual friendships that I’d experienced before. She and Devon made me laugh with their constant, good-natured banter, and the three of us teased each other relentlessly, but when it came down to it, if one of us needed to talk, the other two were there with a sympathetic ear. They were the only two people in the world in whom I put my complete trust.

     Soon enough, he became quieter and I knew he was getting tired. “Okay, Dev, I’d better get going.” I was always careful to never imply that he was weak or tired. He became too defensive, and it only made matters worse.

     “Okay, just promise me you’ll read it.” He implored. I didn’t have the slightest clue what was in that note, but it must have been important for him to be so adamant. What puzzled me most was that he didn’t seem to want her to know. Why else would he have insisted that I come alone?

     “I promise. I’ll come again, sometime next week. Then we can talk about it maybe. That is, if you want.” I added quickly.   

     “Yeah. Well, maybe.” I could tell he still didn’t feel comfortable having a conversation about whatever was in that note out loud. After saying goodbye and promising to bring her along for the three of us to visit sometime soon, I left. As tempted as I was to read the note right there in the parking lot as soon as I got into my car, I decided to wait until I could devote my full attention to it later that evening.

I know, it's kind of rough around the edges. Keep in mind, this is my first draft. The reason I didn't give "her" a name is because names were never my strong suit and I just can't find one that fits her. Hopefully it'll come eventually. Also, it's kinda strange for me writing from a male perspective, but that's just kind of how the story came to me. Opinions and advice would be much appreciated!

♥♥Kristin

Fall {Because}.

Fall. Colors are brighter, more vivid. A strange hope fills the air. This is the season of second beginnings. Pervading death is overtaken by life. Without endings, there are no second chances. As fall blends into winter, the more perceptive sense a stirring beneath the silent surface. The forgotten season sets the stage for everything to come.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Maybe things didn't go perfectly. Maybe the flowers didn't bloom as brilliantly as they could have, or the tree's leaves grew thinly. Fall erases these mistakes, leaving a clean slate, allowing time to regroup, and always a second chance at perfection.

♥♥Kristin

The Perpetual Summer (Another Snippet of Sorts).

As one season fades like ombre into another, I always get this same sentimental-nostalgic feeling both for what is left behind and for what is to come. Each season feels perpetual, and perhaps is in some way. As Summer quietly gathers her possessions and makes ready to leave in a blaze of autumn-tinted glory, she leaves a few things behind, a snatch of laughter or a memory of a glorious sunset to keep me warm in Autumn's chill. As Autumn sets up house and throws up her warm-tinted decoration in attempt to ward off the cold, she carefully chooses which possession of hers to leave me with when the time comes. Season layers onto season, and each is gone but never forgotten.

♥♥Kristin

A Snippet. {3}

Because the middle of the month somehow passed me by...

She fell in love with him in bits and pieces. First, with his easy, teasing banter. Then with the way he made her smile. The fact that he read a book, just because she'd recommended it. The stupid look he got on his face when he was trying not to laugh. The way he seemed to understand her like no one else. The silly competitions they had, just to pass the time. Inside jokes that made her shake with laughter. The brush of his hand against her arm that may not have been by accident. She fell in love with him in bits and pieces, until she realized that she loved him down to the last molecule.

♥♥Kristin

Now Here's What I Think.

{source: white paper quotes on tumblr}

I recently found this quote on Tumblr, and it really resonated with me. I don't mean to offend anyone with this post, please remember this is solely my opinion on the matter. The quote just really made me think about all of the I'm-a-hipster-I'm-gonna-write-a-book-and-make-great-art-and-the-world-will-love-me stuff that's been floating around lately. Not just on blogger, but in my "real world" as well. I understand the wanting to have people swoon over what you write or photograph or make. I'm sure everyone feels this way. I just think that some people take it a step too far. They write poem after poem and post photo after photo, always expecting the highest praise. The thing to remember is that not everyone can be famous. More importantly, you don't need to be famous to be successful or happy or even talented. Don't spend all of your life pouring yourself into poems and photos and paintings when you could be pouring yourself into you. In the end, what matters is not what you wrote or made, what matters is how you lived your life. Please don't forget that. Your happiness is not dependent upon the approval of others. Do what makes you happy, do what you know is right, be yourself and the rest will come. I'm not saying that you shouldn't write, photograph, or make art. If you love to write, then write. If you love to paint, then paint. Not for the world, but for you. Be the most beautiful poem you can be.
♥♥Kristin

Some Words Just Because.

{source}

I know it's not time for a snippets post yet, but I felt like posting some writing.

As time spun ever on, it seemed the days slipped, like grains of sand, too quickly through her fingers. The brevity of life pressed on her soul, causing her to frantically grasp at each moment in futile attempts to keep them a while longer. Thus she spent the last precious days: reaching for what could never be. Despite her efforts, minute slipped to hour and moment to memory. She realized, too late, the irony of her desperation: in trying to hang onto her life, she'd neglected live it.

This is something that's been on my mind a lot lately: too often I find myself too concerned with making the time stretch rather than making the most of the time that I have. This is a reminder to you - and to myself - to live life.
♥♥Kristin

Snippets {2}

So, today I was going to upload a ton of pictures and write a rambling post on my vacation last week. I'm not really feeling up to that, so I decided I would post another snippet instead. This first one was inspired last week. (I was with my mom's side of the family at a cabin, in case I never mentioned it.):

We walk on a road that looks as though it had sprung up with the trees and the grass around it. It is narrow and silent. Time stands still. No cars pass- we could be alone in the world. Yellow leaves litter our path. (But, it's summer, isn't it?) A stream appears and with it, a pull. Naturally, we stop. Skip a few stones. Wet our toes. All too soon, we turn. Make our way back to the world. Moments, we decide, are too fleeting when we could be alone in the world.

And a second one:

Love at first sight was not for her. Why, she wondered, would anyone want to be loved that way? It seemed, somehow, shallow. To latch onto the curve of a smile, the tilt of a nose, the curls of hair, and call such sudden infatuation love? Foolishness. Any boy who loved her would prefer a beautiful soul over a pretty face. She'd make him prove his love and earn hers. A more solid love is built slowly, and not all at once. Love at first sight was not for her.

What do you think?
♥♥Kristin

On Being Genuine.

Gen-u-ine:

(1) Not counterfeit, authentic, real  

(2) Free from pretense, affectation or hypocrisy; sincere.

I know that this is not a new topic, and I am far from the first blogger to attempt a post such as this one. I'm not trying to write the definitive definition of the word "genuine" and I'm only sharing my opinion, my personal take on the topic. 

Genuine is one thing that I strive to be, above pretty much all else. Some of the people that get under my skin the most are the ones that feel the need to be fake. Everyone likes a genuine person; someone who is fully themselves and completely unabashed. A genuine person is one who has come completely to terms with who they are, someone who has accepted their flaws and learned to embrace them. No one said it would be easy, but all the hard work will be worth it in the end. Others tend to more readily accept those who accept themselves. Being genuine is the key to forming solid relationships of any kind. There's no feeling quite like knowing someone inside and out, from their deepest fears and insecurities to their headiest joys and most proud accomplishments. If you let someone in and they do the same for you, that knowledge can be the strong foundation of a lifelong friendship or marriage.So go, live, be genuine, be yourself. In the end, you will be glad you did.
♥♥Kristin