11:30pm

I am a failure at keeping up with things.

I just don't have the energy to write in here sometimes. It's difficult. I also started recording all my spending at the beginning of the month and i'm not doing very well with that either.

But i'll try harder; not tonight.

I procrastinate.

am i doing this right?

I think there's something comforting about having a blog that no one reads. It's like having a diary, only completely different.

There are a lot of things I would never write in a blog. Mostly I just like to think that maybe someone out there is reading the things that I write and maybe getting some sort of something out of it. Not necessarily happiness, or even enjoying it, or finding some ''hidden meaning'' because chances are there is no hidden meaning. Just something. Maybe 60 seconds out of their day where they forgot about what was bugging them, even though they may never remember those 60 seconds.

I'm too shy to share anything I write with anyone I know. Even the people who are close to me. If they happen to stumble across this little fella, that's fine. But I can't bring myself to show them myself.

--

There were dark clouds rolling in from the east, covering the glowing light of the sun through the plain clear window. He closed the blinds; it was too much for him. The train of her gorgeous hand stitched wedding gown was trailing out of the open closet door.
He stared at her sleeping peacefully. Her long blonde hair hiding the striped pattern on the pillow. Her pale, flecked, porcelain skin softly caressing the perfect white sheets.
The gold band on his finger felt like a leash.

(written July 30th, 2010)

i am an octopus.

I an an octopus, a monster of your appetite.
Eating clams and crabs and dead things, that I found on the ocean floor.
I'll swallow whole, your first born child.
Your litter creates the walls of my home.

--

Well,
today I got called into work 3 hours early. So that sucked, as well as it was deader than dead. I then wrote a very small poem called I am an octopus. It has no meaning. But it sounds pretty sweet I thought.

I'm pretty sick of working all the time, and I have about six months of it to go.

I don't have much to say today.

set me free; i want to love, i want to dance.

Ah, the beginning of a fresh new blog. A new chapter, a new page, something new to screw up.

I haven't entirely decided what the use of my having this thing is yet, but as for right now.. everything. I was reading through my book of writing today, and realized that some of the things I have written down I would like to share with people.

I guess I should introduce myself.

My name is Kelsey.

--

Now for a small taste of what is to come;

My Matchbook

And I was sinking; slowly sinking,
until your hands, found me.
Lying in the grass,
under the sun and moonlight.

You put this smile,
across my face;
I sold myself short,
to this bitter unhappiness.

You were here,
and I watched it fade.

Light is not an option,
that I can turn on and off.
My matchbook,
has run dry.