(none)

The day her heart stopped was the day I became "broken."
Apparently.

Ive been broken for approximately 13 years, 5 months and 23 days.

No one really explained what it is to be
broken.

I didnt know what it meant.

When I asked they coddled me closer and said, oh. That is all part of it.
of being broken. They said.

I still dont really know what it means.

And maybe that, ladies and gentlemen, is why
I'm broken.

-Me. Riley Wilson.

Great short poem. (#10)

Friendship

I shed a tear today silently,

I felt it fall you caught it,
shared it,
held it
felt it,
then suddenly,
it wasn't that big after all.

By Shakirah Gulzar

Newspaper Black Out (#10)

Examination

notes that the findings should be

interpreted "with caution" because

this test

which looks at

a person's past

is still an open question of

the

heart.

Still, about one-third

increases their risk

and 

threaten to de-

stroy the system.

"hope of my heart"

The Hope Of My Heart "Delicta juventutis et ignorantius ejus, quoesumus ne memineris, Domine."

 I left, to earth, a little maiden fair, 

With locks of gold, and eyes that shamed the light; 

I prayed that God might have her in His care 

And sight. 

Earth's love was false; her voice, a siren's song; 

(Sweet mother-earth was but a lying name) The path she showed was but the path of wrong

And shame. "Cast her not out!" I cry. 

God's kind words come -- "Her future is with 

Me, as was her past; It shall be 

My good will to bring her home 

At last." -John McCrae

Favorite Movie (#9)

  My favorite movie by far is Benny and Joon. This movie is about a woman (Joon) who lives with her older brother. She is mentally ill and her brother is the only one there to take care of her. The story starts and shows she has to have everything the same or she panicks because she is very easily overwhelmed. When playing a game of poker with his buddies, Joon's brother, Benny, loses and has to take care of his friend's "weird nephew," Benny feels bad for him and ends up taking him in. At first Joon is cautious of Sam (the nephew) but then they begin to fall in love. Benny really hates this at first and even though the movie doesn't say it you can tell that he is deeply hurt he couldn't help Joon with her problems as much as Sam could. 
  Like in every good movie there are trials- Sam wants to be with Joon so he convinces her to run away with him. Bad idea. She doesn't take her medicine and has a major meltdown and Sam has to call Benny for help. She moves herself into a mental hospital and refuses to see anyone. 
  Eventually love prevails and everything works out, Benny allows them to date, and they move in together and she continues to be healthier and happier. 
The end.

A good happy poem. (#8)

Happy The Man

Happy the man,

 and happy he alone, 

He who can call today his own: 

He who, secure within, can say, 

Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today. 

Be fair or foul or rain or shine The joys I have possessed, 

in spite of fate, are mine. 

Not Heaven itself upon the past has power, 

But what has been, has been, 

and I have had my hour. 

 by John Dryden

Ordinary World

  Marnee Jacobs is a 29 year old dog groomer who lives in Boise Idaho. Her life is understandably lacking in the "exciting" department. Every morning is the same thing. Her alarm clock goes off at 7:01 on the dot, she then will sleep in for exactly 15 minutes. She showers then drags her feet as she walks down the stairs of her small house. Tripping on the last lose step. Life cereal for breakfast, then off to the car for a 20 minute drive to the doggy boutique her mom got her a job at. She does exactly as she had done the day before, month before, the year before. 
  Then one day it all changes. It was a rainy day and she Was driving the exact same route she had been driving for the past three years. She loses control of her car and crashes another car- then it all goes black. 
  Will she ever get her life back to normal? Would it be better for her if it didn't? 
  Will she realize that there is more to life than just living?

Dialogue

(All is quiet. Greg sits in his car, waiting in the dark. His car is off, all but his music is cold, dark and silent.) 
 Greg: I can't believe I got roped into this (he mutters) 
(the silence is interrupted, when the door flies open- A dark hooded boy sits down.) 
Greg: hey Stephen. Stephen: don't. Greg: don't have to ask me twice. 
(Greg starts driving- they drive in silence for a while)
Stephen: how did mom know where to find me. 
Greg: Mmmmmh well, hah... 
Stephen: you didn't. You wouldn't!!
Greg: man I had to. I'm worried about ya.
Stephen: yeah whatever, ya nark! 
Greg: I wouldn't have done it unless I was positive Of what was going down, I mean just last week cops found You in possession of-- (SMASH) 
(the car windshield spiderwebs All across their view) 
Stephen: what the he---
Greg: (eery pause) run Stephen. 
 END


 -Clem.

Illusions -Mark R Slaughter

Illusions

Speak to me –
Speak thro’ drifting clouds


O! sing to me –
Sing as if the sun would throw a flare
To give to harmony


Then call to me –
Call across the drowsy valleys –
Spread the word you care! 


Now come to me –
Abandon now 
My inner dreams 
That lay illusions bare.


Then pray for me –
Pray that I recover
From reality: 


But no! I ask, how could you, 
For you were never there.


Mark R Slaughter


-Clem.

The Land Of The Faceless.

I dream about people with no faces. 
Sometimes in obscure places. 
Swinging maces, maybe with braces.  


         I dream about impossible tasks. 
         Hiding from people in masks. 
         I drink poison from flasks, where evil basks.  


                   I dream about losing people. 
                   Occasionally an uncomfortable trip to somewhere with a steeple.  


         I dream about frustration. 
         Very rarely a feeling of  elation. 
         Rules of a new nation, down to every connotation. 


I dream of fear. 
To have  not one familiar face near. 
Unable to steer, hit by someone drinking beer.  


         I dream of death. 
         Only being allowed one last breath. 
         Seeing delusions like people on meth, comforted by some faceless "Seth."  


I dream of being broken. 
Never managing to get my token. 
My last words spoken, 
never to be heard....


-Clem.

Another Great Poem.

ALONE

        From childhood's hour I have not been
        As others were; I have not seen
        As others saw; I could not bring
        My passions from a common spring.
        From the same source I have not taken
        My sorrow; I could not awaken
        My heart to joy at the same tone;
        And all I loved, I loved alone.
        Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
        Of a most stormy life- was drawn
        From every depth of good and ill
        The mystery which binds me still:
        From the torrent, or the fountain,
        From the red cliff of the mountain,
        From the sun that round me rolled
        In its autumn tint of gold,
        From the lightning in the sky
        As it passed me flying by,
        From the thunder and the storm,
        And the cloud that took the form
        (When the rest of Heaven was blue)
        Of a demon in my view.

Edgar Allen Poe


-Clem.

Bones.

My bones say a lot about me. 
They say what my shape will look like. 
Down to every demention. 
Heck, they say if I'm human. 


They define most of what you see. 
But can you hear what they say? 
Would you even care if you did? 
I doubt they would if you didn't.


My bones compete with my head, my heart.
My bones get ignored more often than not.
Because its not "right" to listen to them.
What others need, want, that matters more.


I think humanity would be healthier
if they were to listen
just a few times
to just what
their bones
are trying
to 
say.
- Clem.

My Favorite Poem, Seriously. Most Favorite-est.

I have an all time favorite poem, it made me fall in love with poetry... and I thought I'd share it!! Lucky you.

Courage

It is in the small things we see it.
The child's first step,
as awesome as an earthquake.
The first time you rode a bike,
wallowing up the sidewalk.
The first spanking when your heart
went on a journey all alone.
When they called you crybaby
or poor or fatty or crazy
and made you into an alien,
you drank their acid
and concealed it.

Later,
if you faced the death of bombs and bullets
you did not do it with a banner,
you did it with only a hat to
cover your heart.
You did not fondle the weakness inside you
though it was there.
Your courage was a small coal
that you kept swallowing.
If your buddy saved you
and died himself in so doing,
then his courage was not courage,
it was love; love as simple as shaving soap.

Later,
if you have endured a great despair,
then you did it alone,
getting a transfusion from the fire,
picking the scabs off your heart,
then wringing it out like a sock.
Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow,
you gave it a back rub
and then you covered it with a blanket
and after it had slept a while
it woke to the wings of the roses
and was transformed.

Later,
when you face old age and its natural conclusion
your courage will still be shown in the little ways,
each spring will be a sword you'll sharpen,
those you love will live in a fever of love,
and you'll bargain with the calendar
and at the last moment
when death opens the back door
you'll put on your carpet slippers
and stride out.

~ Anne Sexton ~

(The Awful Rowing Toward God)

-Clem.

Vida y La Muerte.

    I'd like to think that I'd be brave when faced with death. Ha, now thats a laugh. I'm what some would call a "weenie," and when it comes to death I'm the biggest braut worst in the place. Death sounds... well for some it is continued life. I'd like to think that sometimes. 
But I dont think I could keep myself occupied for --forever! I can nest up on the couch, tv on, kindle alight, and iphone buzzing, a friend on either side-- and occasionally still find myself barely treading time on the surface of the boredom abyss. Now imagine that for ETERNITY. 

I think I'm developing a chronic eye twitch just talking-- writing-- about it. Typing about it?
    Well its a coin toss for me between fearing living forever and not regaining any type of mental consciousness at all. 
What would that even be like? None of your senses. Unable to feel or see or think. You can't just not think. Well maybe you can- you are far more skilled than I, I can't get me to shut up. 
But where would "you" go? I dont think I'm the only one who can hear a "me" in my head. I better not be the only one. It hurts my head to think about not existing at all. To retire into oblivion. 
    If you had to die-- and most of us do, I would definitely prefer living forever and tiptoe-ing on the edge of insanity, completely losing my mind,rather than to not have a mind to lose. Maybe that makes no sense. But whoever said it needed to. My thoughts on death and life. More "death" than "life." 
-Clem.

Problems With Mind Reading Super Powers

    If I could have a super power I would like to be able to read minds. No, this doesn't stemm from some deep seeded need to feel like a Twilight character (gag.) But seriously think about it! If you could read peoples' minds life would be so much easier. Or so you would think.
    For instance lets say you have an upcoming test- dont study like a procrastinator, stay up watching The Bachelor, Big Bang Theory, whatever (pick your poison) finally decide to glance at your notes and end up cuddling up with your note book for a 1 hour power nap. Wake up late, get to school unprepared and zombie-like. But wait! You can read minds, you manage to still get answers. Problem: who knows the kind of "answers" you will have transmitted into your head. Maybe the only people in your mental range are blatantly stupid, or in the same boat as you? What if their thoughts are somewhere else? What if you were more confused than when you started? Or (gasp) what if you are paying so little attention you put these answers down?
    Situation 2: You're trying to figure out how to impress someone, like for a job interview. You would be able to figure out what to say when to say it and how to deliver it. No awkward um and ahs or twiddling of thumbs. Plus you'd be able to get their attention instead of them sweeping you unceremoniously out the door, not unlike someone would sweep dirt under a floor rug. Problem: if you could hear them mentally ticking off all the things you were doing wrong, what they didnt like about your first impression and the assumptions they were making it would be a little unnerving. Plus depending on who you are this could start a fight. Personally I dont take kindly to much judgement. Immagine their surprise. Oh yeah, you'd be sure to get that job...
      Mind reading would be awesome and informative (too much so occasionally I bet) and would get you into all sorts of amusing situations. However I think there are things that we dont know for a reason, thank heavens.


-Clem.

Fears.

I'm scared of being forgotten.
     I'm scared of being easily replaced.
I'm scared of making so little of an impression that theres no need to replace me.
       I'm scared of overly watchful eyes, and mouths spouting unproven lies.
I'm scared of french fries, probably because I fear quite fervently for my thighs.
         I'm scared of only growing out but never up,to become a metaphorical stump. 
I'm scared of the day when I finally find who I am, and realize my whole life has been a sham. 
         I'm scared of caring far too much, and forever carrying it around like a crutch. 
Sometimes I'm scared I'll stop caring all together, that I'll float through life as uncaring as a wind-blown feather. 
       I'm scared of you, and sometimes of me- its frightening to see the monsters we can be. 
I'm scared of getting sick like they say I probably will, I'm also frightened of that looming medical bill. 
     I'm scared of heights and being bit, but most of all of seeing spit.
I'm scared of being scared, and I'm scared that you know all that I've shared.


-Clem.

Coraline.

    I think people take the movie Coraline (directed by Henry Selick) for granted. For those who are unacquainted with the film, its about a girl who moves to a new house, a new house with a deadly secret. She finds her self in an alternate reality that is just the opposite of her real life, slowly this other reality seduces her and she wants to stay. But that is when the danger starts, nothing is as it seems. She learns that she should be more careful of what she wishes for.

    The film is done in stop motion animation, that should be a gold star right there- I'd rip my hair out if I tired to make one of those. The sound track alone is incredible. There are certain scenes in which Coraline is happy, and the music is both happy and eery- almost foreshadowing that this isn't right and that something is going to happen to disrupt the happiness. The way the sculptors managed to show the emotion of the characters so perfectly certainly helped. The film itself was beautiful, the music was hypnotizing and the morals were easy to apply to ones self. Strong supporter of Coraline, right here. Thats all I have to say.

-Clem. 

I'm Thinking About You Like....Well....Hmmm

I'm thinking about you like handle bars think about matching mustaches,
I'm thinking about you like mice think about their little stashes,
I'm thinking about you like dragons think about gold,
like old houses think about mold.


I'm thinking about you like sunburns think about alovera,
I'm thinking about you like celebrities think to share...a
I'm thinking about you like patriots think about revolting,
like lightning thinks about bolting.


I'm thinking about you like dubstep songs think about vicious drops,
I'm thinking about you like puddles think about tripping mops,
I'm thinking about you like fried fishes think about lemon,
like players think about women.


I'm thinking about you like dancers think about others' rhythm,
I'm thinking about you like smarties think about how to logarithm,
I'm thinking about you like junkies think of thrills,
like scary movies think about chills.


I'm thinking about you like I think about you.
-Clem.

The Fountain

  SO I found this pretty cool movie yesterday, it's called "The Fountain." The main character is Hugh Jackman (Wolverine), and his wife is Rachel Weisz (Evie, from "The Mummy.")Sounds great already, doesn't it. So its actually a super bizarre movie (perfect topic, eh?) its super deep when you take into account all the symbolism and imagery. If you don't however, it is just way off its metaphorical "rocker" so to speak. It was so different that I'm still trying to figure out if I liked it or not. But I am certainly glad I watched it. Is it cheesy to say that it was impactful?
-Clem

LOVE. And Such.

Love is that meal, you choke down as proof of it

Love is that beast, feasting purely on the high of it

Love is the silence, that beats its way through it

Love is a sushi roll,  I relinquished for you.

Love is that tie clip, they gave you to soothe it

Love is that hug, when you long should be through it

Love is the whisper, used just so you don't scream it

Love is the piece of me, I relinquish for you. 

-Clem

Intro

        WELL, hello. So I have a blog now-- and really nothing to say, we'll see how this goes I guess. Wish me luck.

        MY pen name (Clementine Kruczynski-- for all you people too lazy to look- no worries I'd be right along side you,) I got from a movie character who I fell in love with. She has a chronic fear of commitment and her hair has been, and will forever be, all the colors of the rainbow. Her maturity levels are comparative to that of a 13 year old and she loves adventure. Pretty much all the personality throwbacks that I too enjoy.

         - Clem