Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Your own Delusional Hero

Once upon a time...

I thought I was different.

Thought I was special.

Thought I had talent.

Justified ambition.

Guess not.

Where'd I come up with that?

Once upon a time...

I thought I was important.

Thought I made a difference.

Thought my efforts mattered.

Unique execution.

Guess not.

When'd I start thinkin' that?

Once upon a time...

I thought I could change the outcome.

Thought I could be the savior.

Knew I could live with purpose.

Fulfilling grand destiny.

Guess not.

Why'd I ever believe that?

Delusional Hero, here at your service...sorry if I seem depressed.

Spare me your pity.

Listen well, know my folly;


...I actually thought I mattered.

*~The Buzz Lightyear effect: You realize one day that you aren't as great or important as you thought you were. And the hurt doesn't ever wear off.~*

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

If Only I Had Never

~* A piece written about a really hard time in my life. I'm still kind of grieving.~*

If Only I Had Never.

If I had never left...
I would never have missed my friends.
I would never have had broken memories.
I would never have sighed that sigh.
I would never have said those things.
I would never have missed that event.
Never have ached when I saw the empty spot,
In all the pictures I should have been.

If I had never left...
I would never have said good-bye.
I would never have felt like a deserter.
I would never have cried that night.
I would never have laid in bed all day.
I would never have fought that fight.
Never have wondered if they had ever really cared,
Or if it had just been a joke.

If I had never left...
I would never have spent all day alone.
I would never have ignored that person.
I would never have worried those I loved.
I would never have forgotten who I was.
I would never have cursed God.
Never have shut off my heart,
To save it from being hurt.

If I had never left...
I'd be waking up the to a mile wide sunrise.
I'd be wishing on the stars that never hide.
I'd be looking forward to everyday.
I'd be hopeful of the Future.
I'd be laughing in the Present.
I'd be content with my Past.
I'd be happy because I knew
There will always be tomorrow.


If I had never left...

I would never have met that person.

I would never have laughed that night.

I would never have sang that song.

I would never have seen that sunset.

I would never have wrote those words.

Never have realized how much friends can mean,

Whether close or with miles in between.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

I won a Contest!

I got first place!
Oh, the irony...how it stings (read a few posts down and you'll understand). *smile*
But still I'm happy and I'm going to share with you my winning piece. Written at a time when I was greatly missing my the years when I was a little girl, and mainly the days I shared with my three older brothers. Hope you enjoy!

"When Did this Happen?"-Caitlin R.

When did this happen? When did things change?

Wasn't it just yesterday that we were making tepees in the backyard? The lumber old and rotting and yet to us they were beautiful,grinning with glee as we peered out at each other through the gaps between the boards.

When did this happen? When did we get older?

Has it truly been that long since we climbed the Mulberry tree? Our feet stained crimson after trampling the ripe fruit. Climbing ever higher in hopes of reaching the top. I never got very far but instead watched as you passed from branch to branch with skill.

When did this happen? When did we stop playing?

When I was the princess and you the warriors? Sitting quietly on the bed while all of you battled for ultimate victory. Light-sabers,swords,guns and superpowers. Play fights turned to real fights that no one ever won. I watched by the sidelines, never understanding why these pretend duals were so important.

When did this happen? When did we forget?

That every shiny stone should be saved?
That pennies are priceless.
That playgrounds are Castles.
That a water hoes is a Rainbow maker.
That cut,scrapes, and bruises are meant to be treasured battle scars.
That a box filled with old clothes meant a play has yet to be born.
That love has no agenda, that forgiveness is given unbegrudedly.
And that every day should be lived to the fullest and that no one is ever left out.

Don't you remember? Have you forgotten?

Yes, I know you have. At least for now you have. Your world is so exciting now but in a different kind of way. I know things have changed and most of the time I'm glad but still some times I miss it: those precious few days of my youth. I see now that you are all on your way to adulthood which means I too will soon follow.

Is it OK, to be scared? Is it OK to feel stuck?

Reaching out to my future while still grasping tightly to my past. Afraid to let go, afraid to forget. But at least I have you to go before, to make a way, to clear the path. To tell me its OK, to cheer me on, to hold my hand. Because things will change and already have, and I'm ready to face what life has to give me, if you'll promise to help me out.

But tell me, when did this happen? When did we grow up?

In His Glorious Face

Once upon a time I was a little girl.
Very little.
It was a Sunday night.
We were at Church.
That's were it usually happens.
At Church.
Even at a young age.

I don't remember much.
The sermon, the people, the songs.
All I remember is when we went to pray...
To talk, I knew, with God.
Every head bowed to pray.
Like always.
It's just what you do.
But I didn't.
Not that night.

I paused.
I thought for a bit.
I turned my head up towards the ceiling, my eyes opened wide and searching.
My mother looked over and said a hasty "bow your head".
I obeyed.
But still I thought...at five I puzzled...

Why do we look down?
Why do we close our eyes?
When I'm talking to God I want to look up, into his face.
I want to see if He's looking and listening back.
How can you talk to someone if you don't look them in the eye?
Does He like that when we turn our face away and close our eyes and murmur?

The prayer ended.
But still I thought.
Why don't we let God see our face?
Are we afraid?

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Extra, extra!

So I just started a new blog!


I must say I'm very excited about it. *smile*
Come! Follow! Enjoy!
It's all fun for me and I hope someone else can get a kick out of it.
Be sure to scroll down to the first post to get the scoop on why this particular blog came to be.
Thanks a lot my peoples and chat with you again soon.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

I won a contest....

...Got 4th place.
And I was excited.
Very much so.
Number ten.
Only ten.
And me the fourth.
Caitlin the fourth.
Caitlin the "not-even-good-enough-to-get-a-medal".
Caitlin the "you're-only-good-when-compared-with-nine-other-people".
That's me.
Just a little above average.
Good...but not good enough.
Only ten.
And me the fourth.
Caitlin the fourth...
...never the first, never the best.

Just average...just good enough to be fooled.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Her Song

I see a room.

It is dark and filled with dusty old books and things many have long forgotten. The only light I see is that which comes from a large and lonely window. But it is raining outside, so the room remains in shadow. In front of the window I see an worn piano.
At it a small girl sits.


Her dress is white and plain. Her hair dark and long. And if we listen closely we can hear her song as her fingers pass silently over the stained keys. The melody is haunting. Timidly she raises her eyes,looking out of the window into the rain....she is looking for something.


But we see only the rain falling softly to the earth.....but wait. Someone is outside. The little girl sees but does not stir. She continues to play. We look closer. No, that can not be, it is not possible. Outside of the window, twirling in the rain, is the little girl. The very same one who is at the same time inside, playing. How can this be? Oh, but look; the little girl outside is laughing. Her hands are stretched high above her head and it seems as if she is reaching out to something, someone.

She is dancing.

Her joy is evident. But she stops. She has seen the window. She smiles softly and beckons to the small girl inside to join her. But she only turns away, still playing the hollow tune. And as she does the little girl outside slowly fades....and is gone.

The song plays on.

But look, what is this? Rain drops on the keys? How did they come to be there? The little girl does not seem to notice for she does not cease. A silent tear steals down her pale cheek and there, it has fallen to the piano. Her hand slips. A note is struck. Her song ends.

And she is alone.