A reminder of why I'm a musician:

Today, I played The Way I Am on ukulele in Music Therapy Experiences class despite being sick. The assignment was to bring a song of significant value to you and of course I had to choose an Ingrid Michaelson song, to choose anything else would not have done justice to my musical tastes. Anyway, we each had to play our chosen song as a solo, and then as a group we would play it again, this time with the rest of the class on different instruments backing us (the soloist) up.

Side note: I never usually get nervous when performing. Sometimes, I try my best to be humble and give others a shot at the spotlight ,hence my hesitancy to perform alone at times. I’d never want to make anyone uncomfortable because of my talent.

But today, something was different: I was nervous. Maybe it was because I am sick or maybe it’s on account of I hadn’t practiced this song before class but, something made me nervous to play this. Then I realized, it’s because the words…I used to take the song as a promise to a lover or as a promise to a friend but what I was really using it for, today at least, was a promise to myself. I will take myself “the way I am.” And that’s simply all I can do. I’m done trying to explain myself in terms of my sexuality because I’m so much more than that. I don’t have to figure that out right now because I’ll continuously grow and learn about myself along the way. I’m a person with so many feelings other than lust and shallow needs/wants. I have hopes and dreams and plans.

When it came time to have everyone back me up, let’s just say that it was magical. I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a beautiful version of this song when the people were harmonizing with me as they listened. Someone played piano, someone sang harmony, someone played a clarinet, others percussion…My classmates may not know me well but they truly listened to what I was doing and made it into something even more beautiful. Which as silly and poetic as it sounds, demonstrated to me how I must not only rely on myself but let other people love me “The way I am” to make me shine and become more lovely with the help of those around me. Or I could totally be overanalyzing this. Either way:

“Music is what feelings sound like.”

Now, I'm getting ready to do the opening number for a dear friend's senior voice recital. Not only do I feel honored that she asked me to perform a silly ukulele song at such an important beginning of her classical career, but I feel blessed to have her--this incredibly talented, beautiful, kind, and gentle young woman--as a friend, mentor, and someone I know will be in my life for a long time.
"I've never known a musician who regretted being one. Whatever deceptions life may have in store for you, music itself is not going to let you down." ~Virgil Thomson

Thinking of you (with total sincerity)

You eat at me like the mumbled words you say in passing. Is that fear I smell or have I just completely gone insane?

Your smile cuts my heart in half; one fourth laid on the table to be consumed by passing worms and flies, another taken with you like the wind—gone.

Gone, you’re gone. I remain. Not the “I” that you know so well, but the “I” that took those pieces back and stitched them like a patch on a backpack and made something that’s seams are so flawless yet especially defined.

Enjoy thinking of me. I certainly don’t when I think of you.

Spring Break Salt Grains

I feel like I needed this week in my hometown, to remove myself from situations, put myself into others, and truly assess my life. I've done a lot of thinking and know what I need to do now to keep myself sane and happy. Happiness is key. I know how to get out of this rut I've been in and remember the ways that jump-start me and remind me of myself, my goals, and the kinds of energy I want to surround myself with.

I've also taken this time to realize that I no longer see gender in normal terms. I can't imagine myself with someone of either sex. I just imagine myself with this caring, loving person, capable of so many things and for striving for personal achievement. And this, this is beautiful to me.

Things I must renew: my self worth, my body.

Tomorrow, I return to home for the second half of this hellish semester. Wish me luck.

Giant

The things we think set us apart only bring us together.
Eating disorders, bad break ups, homosexuality, lack of motivation, ignorance, unrequited love, apathy, self pity.
Misery adores company. It's even in it's slogan.
But once we go beyond that magnetism, we find that the core uniqueness of ourselves lies in something that no one can ever define. Something unpredictable. Unplanned, if you will.
What sustains us, what motivates us, what angers us, what pleases us, all are just little fragments of the giant that we each title
Myself.

Circles.

In circles,
your fingers swirl.
Round and round
on open skin.

Each touch electrifying me,
but resist I must.
My own sanity comes first here
and
you would drive me nuts.

Each impulse drives me towards you,
but realistically, of course, I pull back.
Guilt.
Need.
Inconsistency.
Want.
Ding-ding-ding, the high school day is over in 12 minutes.
You remove your hand.

It's so easy to say that
It's complicated.
Say something.

More February Poetry

Napkins spinning round,
blue chipped nailpolish,
soft fingers,
beautiful fragrance,
you find the ways to make people fall for you.
But fall the cards go only
in your mind.
~
Give me a hand,
I need some connection.
Contact and change,
love,
lust.
You sing through your wit, but only I know you are
serious.
No one else can read you,
I took the key and locked it.
And then swallowed the key whole.
Rip off my skin,
into my stomach,
through my intestines,
and steal it back.

To-Do List.

Begging at feet, you slip
into the grooves.
Attention,
something that no one can ever give you enough of,
you need to
survive.
You breathe out music notes,
and sigh with timely precision.
Bursts of insecurity
flush
through your cheeks as your comfort level decreases.
Thinking of the other night,
you smile,
knowing that you almost added another notch on your planner.
"Things I've done,"
"Things I need to do,"
Things to do...

I wanted to pretend but you weren't fooling anyone but me.

Numb toes and frozen cheeks, we trek
Past cars and street lights
on the road with
No side walks.
Where's the solid ground?
It's all icy,
slipping
wet,
no traction
for my racing
feet.

But, we made it through.

Long ago, you would snarl at me with your pearly white teeth,
the cast is set,
you, the wolf,
me, the wide-eyed girl,
as I mistake your snarl for a toothy smile.
You can smell the fear
leaping off my skin
from my sin.
You devour me whole yet
leave little life left lying
within me.
Just enough
so I still feel the agony of your touch.

But, we made it through.

Stating facts,
you masquerade
past my ever ripening eye.
I can see past your lies now.
So,
I left.
Enjoy the burn
and the ashes.

The Future. Tomorrow, maybe?

I wish to be invaded. I wish to be entwined with someone who knows me. All of me. The things that many others don't know about me, I wish for someone to know. I want someone to capture the wild parts and tame parts of myself alike. I want to be plumaged and left a mess. Then, I'd be sure I'm actually feeling and then I can put myself together again. I like that process.

I'm looking for companionship. No questions asked because they should already know the answers. No daunting small talk, let's skip that please. I'm looking for a friend who will be a lover, someone to be there to hold my hand and cuddle anytime we're both free too. Someone who will help ignite my passion and continue to fuel it so that my creativity never diminishes. Inspiration not suffocation. I'd like that an awful lot.

For myself, I'd love to not be so hard on myself. (Awkward wording?) I'd also love to be free to be me in every philosophical and literal meaning of that. I'd love to not be so lonely when in a crowded room. I'd just adore completeness with myself.
"I'm looking for something to fill the holes"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_t68m5k9J_U
"I will fill my own holes..."

Alright, now onto "Girl, Interrupted," homework, and sleep.

The Present. The Now.

I'm tired. I'm tired of being the cute and funny one, the best friend, the person who people look at from afar and admire. I want someone to break through the plastic bubble surrounding me and really GET me. Take hold of my heart, rather than the opposite way around. I'm tired of failing tries on my end. Especially now in this new place where I'm struggling to take hold of my own self.
...

I get butterflies in my tummy when I think of you, when I see you, when I sit next to you, when I speak to you.
The future Carolyn Thorn, I love you.

Just Thoughts on Past and Current Dislocation of Soul

Dislocation: Past.
I'm misplaced. Caught up in my ever insane mind, I can't get out or even find where exactly I am in here. There's no internet, no GPS, no maps, I'm left stranded with only my gut directional sense leading me deeper and deeper out of sight. My colorful clothes and shiny personality no longer have the means to keep me in the light, I'm falling into anonymity and the worst part is I'm okay with that. This isn't fair to those who claim they love me, I know, but certain things are harder to survive.

You don't love me anymore, but rather think of me with a bitter taste in your mouth, you told me this over a text message. Jealous that I have potential as you sit there burnt out. I'm breaking free yet getting further lost. At least this time I'll be sober, more than I can say about you. I don't pity you anymore and you don't admire me anymore, that's how come our connection is broken. Was that really love or were we both just using each other to try to feel something real in this pathetic existence. I did love you, but you were never in love with me. You're too selfish to share anything with anyone. I'm not bitter, however, I'm just finally fully aware at how my love has always gone unrequited. I want to be touched again. Not just physically but deeply touched. I want to smile using all of my heart. I don't want to search for this, however. I want someone to find me.

On my mind...

I want to know if you remember what you said to me in my dream as you took my heart and split it in two? You don't? Damn, it would have made a really great lyric and would've made us both infinitely connected in my mind. I guess that just wasn't meant to be.

Good thing dreams aren't reality, in this case, at least. All I want to do is crawl back in the sheets, avoid the world for a little while cause you crushed me with your words. The worst part was that I let you, in my subconscious of course.

I want to feel your skin on mine. Yours so soft and mine so gentle. Why were my two dreams last night so real? They've left me haunted.

Why do I always want the people that I can't have? More importantly, why are you such a good person? Torture. Pure torture.

Thoughts in Class

Why smile when you're not happy? Don't try to hide yourself from me, the one who knows you best. A venti sized coffee bursts through my veins as my mind is flooded with things on my to-do list. My attraction towards those around me pulls me in directions I never would have dared to go. My bladder now full with classes imminent end slowly flushing forward. Tick-tock-tick-tock, 20 minutes left. Way too long a time in a class where the teacher's political correctness of herself takes more effort than the actual material being taught. Her gum chewing has grown to be an annoyance I cannot notice, like when someone says "like" or "um" ALL of the time.
After all, it's not that her jokes are bad, it's just the awkward delivery that ruins it.

Buying Joy

I wish you could go into a store and tell a clerk what you really need like happiness, good health, love, companionship, fearlessness, endless smiles, and hugs whenever needed. I wish that after telling the clerk that, he or she wouldn't look puzzled at your request, but instead, without hesitation, hand you your bags, you pay, and everything in your life would be grand. I wish that was how life worked, however, my wishes are considered far fetched.

Sure, you can go into a store, buy fancy things that are either out of your price limit, or if you have no price limit-really "affordable," that will make you feel great for about 10-15 minutes. Then, reality slams you in the face and you are left alone with your Steve Madden boots, Gucci purses, or whatever the hell it is that you bought. True, undeniable contentment is not something that is easy as 1-2-3. It's hard work. Sometimes it is so hard that people search and search for shortcuts that will make their life seemingly better. For some people, finding the contented state will come easy. Especially those who seek shallow, picture "perfect" needs. But, for the rest of us fools, we will be working and striving towards true happiness for the whole of our natural born lives. Sure, we'll lose our way and stray from our dedicated path but, ultimately, we will find our way back to the things in life we really want--our true, natural needs.

Try that on for size.
Peace and positivity,
ct

Travel Back

So it goes.
It's my last night in my room at home before I embark in round two of the crazy adventure that is college and I am more than excited to return. Of course, I am reflecting on my life's past moments and future career while listening to some light, melodic lines made possible by Ingrid Michaelson.

I was just thinking how I never really want to be "just a singer." Like, if I was ever given the chance to be in a recording studio and record my own work, I'd want to be part of the WHOLE process rather than just the singing/performing. I'd want to play ukulele, help mix it, and help insure that the product is something that is true to the intention of the music. I'm more than just a pretty face that can be publicized and sold and I need to remember that. If I'm ever in a band, I wouldn't want to just be the lead singer, I'd wanna play an instrument, count off AND sing.

You may say that this sounds greedy, but what I believe it's all in my yearning to learn and grow and flourish and become the best in everything I can be. And that strong want, that is what I believe is greedy in my dream. But tell me, who's dream isn't greedy?

I guess what I'm trying to say is the one thing I need to keep in mind is that I can never box myself into one aspect whether it be singing, psychology, ukulele, writing, acting. If I only do one thing, well, that is not how I dreamed my dream. My dreams are more complex than any sentences can hold. And isn't that the beauty of it? The magical part of that is how my dream is not tangible whatsoever at this point in my life, but as I keep striving, I know I'll be able to feel it's warmth and bask in my personal glory. One day.

And then, maybe, I'll travel back to this moment now, in my mind, and smile a contented smile.

Peace and positivity,
ct

What love really means...

I gave up 5 days of my life to go on retreat at Capuchin Youth and Family Ministries to help with Habitat for Humanity. But it was so much more than escaping reality. It was incredible. Utterly incredible. Brought back my faith in humanity and renewed lots of friendships with people I hadn't seen in a while and met a whole bunch of great people.

I built cabinets/counters for this transitional housing apartments (3 in total) carried bunches of doors up three stories and helped to get lumber from a lumber yard/through away scrap metal. Lots of work and sweat but so worth it, knowing that one day a family will be living there.

~ct

The Sky is Falling!!!!!

Now that I've grabbed your attention, pay a close amount of it to what I'm about to explan.

Hypothetically, you're in a relationship. Where you ADORE, utterly adore and are in admiration of your partner, and the partner is only there because you are cute looking yet feel so strongly for them. Well, slowly, but surely, the great feeling the partner has, about being adored in such a strong way, will collapse and will in turn be replaced by first, confusion, and finally, suffocation. Both partners need to adore each other in such a way that you can bend a little before someone/something breaks.
Admiration=Suffocation?

Just thinking out loud, in blogger form.

~ct