Celebration!

To celebrate the reinstatement of my ipod, below are some songs for your enjoyment. I've talked about some of them before...

Mr. Blue by Catherine Feeny (P.S. I hope these work. If not, then... Sorry! Have a good day anyway!)
Put Your Records On by Corinne Bailey Rae

Miss Delaney by Jack's Mannequin

Foundations by Kate Nash

It's a Disaster by OK Go

Drunk Girl by Something Corporate

Untouched and Intact by The Honorary Title

I hope these all work! Thanks for reading. And listening.

Okay, smaill message...

Please disregard the link on my last post... the music video I wanted to post is below, plus there's another one that's really funny.

Thanks.

Men Without Hats - Safety Dance

Fast Food Folk Song (at the Taco Bell Drive-Thru)

Identity Crisis... How Sardonic.

One of the things I like best about writing is that you can be as loud as you want to be.

It occurred to me the other day that I created this blog because I wanted to be heard, and I wanted people to get to know me. And then, in short concurrence to that one, I had another realization that if that was what I truly wanted, I wouldn't have created this blog in a different name. That by using a fake name, it meant that I was scared for the world to really get to know ME.

And this all sounds reeeeallly familiar. Have we been here before?

Yeah. I'm pretty sure we have.

If you meet me, and you don't really know me (which would make sense, considering you are meeting me), then you might think that I'm a shy person. But this assumption wouldn't be true, as I've gone over before. There is a big difference between a person who is shy, and person.... Well, and a person like me. I don't even really know how to explain it anymore. And I know I've already written a whole entry about this, but I need to go over this again, for my personal sanity.

I'm not shy because I'm not afraid to say what I really mean. I'm not shy because I have very strong opinions, and I share them frequently. I'm not shy because I have friends, and I can socialize when I feel like it. I'm just not shy, and if I'm not talking, it's because I have nothing to say to you. Small talk is stupid, in my opinion. So I probably wouldn't talk to you first. You have to make the effort, as conceited as that sounds.

Uhg. I'm sorry that I'm writing this all over again. I'm just having an identity crisis right now, and it helps to remind myself of who I am. And writing it all out helps, because sometimes things can get lost in my head.

When I write, I have a voice, one that everyone can hear. And it's different from a physical voice. You don't need to actually have ears, and I don't need to project. And if I write something well enough, it doesn't matter that you're reading my voice. If it's well written, then you can hear me anyway.

Is it weird that every time I look into a mirror, I see somebody different? Do other people do that to?

I think that for so long, I've thought that I've accepted who I am, when all I've really been doing is accepting that I'm going to change. I haven't accepted a set person, just the idea of one.

And maybe that is all you can ever do. We change so often, are we really the same person from one minute to the next? Or are there little things about us that are altered, that nobody but ourselves (and sometimes not even us) perceive?

Oh my gosh! I can wiggle my nose!

All I'm doing is thinking out loud at this point. And no matter how much I don't like to be selfish, this blog is about me. Even if my name isn't attached to it. Because, really, what does a name matter if the essence is the same? Like Juliet said, "What's in a name?" or something along those lines...

Thanks for reading. I don't blame you if you skipped over this entry. Too much angst.


http://www.casttv.com/video/xa9bmc1/safety-dance-men-without-hats-official-video

Oh, yeah, and guys. Check out one of my all time favorite music videos at the link above. You won't regret it.

Slippery

It's slippery.

It's also so very dark.

You close your eyes, although you know it doesn't make a difference; no light could penetrate this darkness that hugs your every curve and angle. But it helps... it makes you feel more in control of something that is taking you in its grasp.

Usually, it's not a problem. You don't have to worry about it because you never fall victim. It couldn't happen to you; others, yes. But you? Not even if you wanted it. Not even if you prayed for it.

But tonight.... it's different. You can feel it in the air, the tangible, cloudy air. You can taste the blackness, something you never really appreciated until this very moment, when you're on the brink.

It could be pleasant. You will never know until you try. But what if trying turns out to be too much... What if it's the last time you ever try, for anything in your life? The risk seems silly and insubstantial, but is it? Is it really?

You make several futile attempts to pull yourself back. You conjure images, thoughts, emotions. You drag the secrets out of the dark corners of yourself. Did this confining darkness come from your head? If you open your eyes, will the whole picture change? Does it matter?

Soon, you've dragged out so many things, so many feelings, so many thoughts that you had already sent to bed. All of the events of your day, even your life. And just to be sure that you have stoked this misfitted mob into a frenzy of bees, stinging at your mind, you drag out your worries and fears and plans for the future. It's just the kind of thing to completely infuriate those mind wasps, enough to keep you alert, if it's the last thing you do.

But to your horror,--or could it be relief?--you find all of that slipping away. Like I said: it's slippery. The tighter you hold on, the more it alludes you, deliberately distorting itself just to scramble away from your greedy clutches. You may not have any guilt over using yourself in this way, but your self certainly objects.

You make one final attempt to catch it and hold on; something is running around loose in there, skipping past your mental fingers with such dexterity, you could only glimpse flashes of it dashing by. But, nevertheless, you dart for it.

And you catch it. You let out a huge sigh of relief, of triumph, because now you've won!

But then, the most peculiar thing starts to happen, something straight out of a Lewis Carroll novel...

It shrinks.

At first you think it's a trick of the light, or rather, a trick of the UN-light. But, no. It really is getting smaller, and smaller.

Smallersmallersmallersmallersmaller......

And then a tiny, slick sensation, something only a slippery thing can create, occurs between your mental fingers. You can feel it sliding along the vee in between your appendages, inching down around that place on your hands that never seems to get touched. And with such an intimate, foreign touch, you know that you're helpless to the tickle.

You're lost to it.

Yawn.

Hello my fellow insomniacs.

This is Kacie Renn Lynshah, coming to you live from my wired brain. I've been broadcasting live since before two in the morning (yes, I did say MORNING), and it only gets later and later in the day (because that is generally what the day does: get late...)

So, of course instead of laying in my bed, with my eyes closed, trying to get to sleep despite the futility of the effort, I decided to blog. It's been a while. And maybe you'll all (all five of you) enjoy my frantic musings.

I've been seriously thinking about redecorating this page. The template I have now is so generic... almost like a cereal box.

Why am I thinking seriously about this? Why not flippantly, or desperately, or angerly? (Is angerly a word? Anybody?)

I don't know why I'm taking it so seriously. I guess I just want my creative place to look nice, and to inspire me and others. And I also want it to be appealing, so that when all those people who surf blogs for fun come upon mine, they'll stop to look at it, and not just pass it by, possibly screaming from the atrocity of it.

I've been thinking about people again.

Uh oh. You know what that means.

But this time, I'm not going to do a thorough, generalized outlook on people as an entire race. No, we'll save another one of those for when I read Dante's Inferno, or until I'm taking allergy meds. Whichever comes first.

This time I just want to address one topic.

How people change.

Okay, so I'm generally a person who adores change. No, really. REALLY. I love change in scenery, I love change in the people around you, I love changing the person you are for the better. Basically, I love it when my life is unsettled.

But what about the kind of change that hurts you?

Or makes you different, in not necessarily a positive way?

Whoa. It's really weird hearing this come out of my own mouth. Just a year ago, I probably would have been totally for negative change.... Uh, as odd as that might sound to you.

(OH, and you might be wondering, Gee, how are you able to hear words coming from your mouth when, in reality, you're actually typing them? I'll give you this mental picture: I actually announce everything I'm going to type before I type it. So if you walk into the room while I'm blogging.... prepare yourself for a proclamation.)

Anyway, back to change. I know a lot of people who have been changed for the worse by certain events in their life. I'm one of them, but I've learned that change is really a good thing, and that it always happens, and will continue to happen, even after--the biggest change of all--we are dead.

But some people never figure that out.

Sometimes, the negative change isn't really that dire. It's something like giving up a hobby in order to focus on getting good grades. It can even have a positive effect as well. (Uh, if it wasn't clear, that positive effect would be getting good grades.) But what are you giving up, really? And at what cost?

Okay, so I have never claimed to believe in happiness, at least not as a lasting state. You all should know that by now. But if a person can gleam a bit of happiness, or more appropriately, JOY from something, then shouldn't they?

Now, moving on to the fear of change that comes from a bad experience. I've been there. I'm sure we all have at one point in our lives. But it is only just what it proclaims to be: an experience. It teaches you something. Probably something important. And that something might be that change is good for you. Or, you know... It could be something completely different. Whatever.

But the point, my dear friends, is that you should (and really it is your only option) take it. Because most likely, it will be your only chance to learn from something like this. And you shouldn't let it change you for the worse. Because plenty of people get bitter or mean or depressed or fake. They get SERIOUSLY MESSED UP just because of change.

And yes, change can be a sad thing. It can have negative effects, or positive one's. But it isn't really good or bad....although, like I've said previously, I think it leans more towards good. But it's inevitable. Forever.

So.... You all just read a life lesson (coming from a high school student) that you most likely already knew. Thanks for the patience.

The funny thing: I already knew all of that too. I have no idea why I suddenly felt the need to rant about it.

I think it was off set by the play I was just in, You Can't Take It With You. The whole time I was doing it, I never really realized how deep it was. But then yesterday, our last show, I finally got it. You can't take it with you when you die. So enjoy it now.

It's an important lesson to learn. And I guess knowing about change is connected to it in lots of ways.

Thanks for reading everybody. You'll hear from me later.