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The Artist Formally Known As Chrissy
THE GLiTTER
THE GLAM0UR
THE REAS0N
Le nom : Chrissy Marie
le Pays : United States
Age: 15
l'Anniversaire : May 13
le Statut : Pimpin
Rêve : World Domination
Je vous aime tout, je vraiment fais. Cette année aurait été terrible si vous n'aviez pas été si accueillant incroyablement. Le théâtre a été absolument stupéfiant.. et a le plus definetly m'a influencé (dans plus de façons que l'un). Hmm.. blablabla mes amours ! Le beaucoup d'amour et babyness mort à vous tous, et je vous espère tout obtient posé dans l'avenir proche. Acclamations !
It's not right.
I've been stitched up backwards
and my heart's in my feet.
What's good to you is wrong to me,
and I hate when things make sense.
I'm not trying to be special,
I just want you to ignore me so that I can hunt you down.
I have this thirst to prove myself,
but the spotlight will not quench it.
My words don't rhyme, my poems don't flow, my stories have no ends.
My feet are planted firmly on the ground,
and yet my world is spinning.
It all moves so fast, and yet I'm getting nowhere
My soul was sewn in backwards,
so forgive me for my insolence.
Slap a sorry out of me
and then we'll call it quits
Layout by ASHLEY
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| I have found what you are like .. |
[11 Jul 2008|12:07pm] |
I am so lucky to have found friends who share the same interests as me.
There's an irreplaceable warm fuzzy feeling associated with singing in the car with the windows down,
and an unspoken trust that comes with sharing personal stories and poems.
But lately, I've noticed a slightly disturbing trend.
My friend and I switch recent poems. Mine is about wandering and her's is a love poem, and it's gorgeous.
"It's really beautiful," I say, "don't change anything."
"Now I just have to figure out who it's about," she replies.
Later that week, I sit on my other friend's bed and find her poetry notebook, which I know is filled with sorrowful, regretful, and sometimes hateful poems, most of which are directed toward that stupid boy that did her wrong. She tells me to read her new material and I oblidge, but am quickly surprised at the turn of tone. Her red, angry words have melted into a cool, optimistic collection of love poems. She has written of stars and murmurings and fingers intertwined, and I'm taken aback.
"Who are these about?" I ask.
"I don't know yet," she says with a sigh.
I go home and look through my recent work. There is no direction, no theme. The words match my moods - curious and nervous and grateful and happy (so much about that smile) - but, after writing for such a long amount of time, there really isn't anything dramatic or profound.
Because I wait too much.
I wait for inspiration to strike, I wait for the perfect plot to pop into my head, I wait for silence to write so that ideas are lost to time and distractions.
I wait so I waste.
So I have to wonder which is better: real experiences wrapped in sparky words or sparkly hopes disguised as real experiences?
Is it better to muse over <b>what could be <i>someday</i></b> or <b>what is right in front of you</b>?
And, can over-analyzing hurt us? Should we stick to writing fiction and let our own lives play out without too much thought?
Are things only as real as you make them?
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| Arrangement in white and black. |
[02 Jul 2008|11:12pm] |
Hello Livejournal, it's been a while.
Funny, that whenever I get the urge to post here it is only because I feel guilty ranting to friends or find myself at a loss for reasonable explanation. Thank goodness for reliability, wherever it is found - how rare it is these days.
Friends change, the world shifts, you get back on your feet again and again, but reliable things make the effort feel a bit more worthwhile, I think.
I have been thinking far too much and far too quietly lately.
I don't know how to start over.
I don't know how to not be jealous of Musical Theatre majors (why is it not enough to just minor in Drama?).
I don't know how to meet new people without making terribly corny jokes.
I don't know how to balance here and there and I really don't want to discuss it.
I just want to know what will stay the same,
Will I still be the girl who finally found confidence this year (funny how heartbreak can do that to you)?
Who am I if I am not a "theatre kid?"
I'm not niave, I know what college is for.
College is for learning.
It's one of the last places in life that I will be able to ask questions and get real answers; after that, I'm pretty much on my own.
I was so confident that I found myself in high school.
These past few months, I have never felt so complete and at peace with myself.
But here we go again.
Identity crisis here I come.
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| Cappies is for the birds. |
[04 Nov 2007|01:35am] |
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Have you ever realized that everything is a cycle?
My daydreams are flying South for the winter.
It's too cold here.
There is none of the usual warmth
in voices and promises and memorized lines.
Everything feels dull and forced
(I'm on auto-pilot).
What's the point if what I want is impossible?
(crash and burn).
I'm just going to be sad and get it over with.
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| Applying to college is BORING! Writing on livejournal is FUN! |
[16 Sep 2007|02:38pm] |
I don't understand this change,
if it is only in my head or in my age or it is universal.
Or maybe there is no change,
perhaps I have been in denial.
I can't figure out if I'm driven by emotions
or have unconsciously decided to accept consequential emotions as they come.
And I'm not sure which I'd prefer.
I find myself enjoying quiet
or being around strangers (in a waiting room)
who don't expect me to talk
or sing well
or anything.
I like that they can pass judgment
based only on my leopard print boots
(that are falling apart)
and my toocurious glances.
Although, maybe they're not judging.
Maybe I go completely unnoticed.
Maybe I would hate that.
Ha.
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[05 Sep 2007|04:43pm] |
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School is weird. That's the only way I know how to say it.
I'm trying to take on as many responsibilities as possible so I don't have time to look around and realize that all of my best friends are gone.
It's easier to walk alone quickly, rushing through the halls, delivering papers, finding club members, organizing meetings - then I can pretend I don't even have time for best friends.
It's not bad. In fact, school is far better than I expected, and people are so wonderfully nice.
But it's still weird.
Ihavesomuchtosaybutidontknowhowtosayit.
And there I go, being a cliche again :-/
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| Just an observation .. |
[20 Aug 2007|11:09pm] |
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One cries, the other shakes, and I just want to throw up.
I should be crying, I should be shaking.
I should have thrown up days ago.
Flashbacks and poker chips,
laughing not crying,
rain and Silverspring,
(colors flashing).
Sitting in a car like it should be,
almost already old friends
(too soon),
all quaking for different reasons;
three stars aligning.
Bittersweet.
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[19 Aug 2007|08:26pm] |
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I don't understand why people set the table when they know everything is going to be moved after grace is said and food set out.
I don't understand why I should make my bed; I know that in 18 hours I'll be back again, sending the too-tightly-tucked-in sheets into disarray with my tossing and turning and fuming and dancing.
I don't understand why people make such an effort to doll a situation up when it's clear that in a short time the ups and downs and tossings and turnings of life will eventually uproot the sheets and upset the silverware placement.
I don't understand why people pretend to be something they're not.
For a long time I thought that when people turned out to be assholes, cheats, liars, that it was my fault for not catching on to their foolery. That I was naive.
But I realize now that people choose to deceive, and we can't blame ourselves for not realizing immediately.
I mean, I am an expert at making my bed so that it looks neat, but when you pull back the first layer of covers, it's the exact opposite of tidy, and I still have trouble remembering if the fork goes on the left or the right when I set the table.
I really don't know what I'm getting at.
I really do know that I'm frustrated at bad decisions, whether they are mine or your's.
I'm frustrated that people do things with no rhyme or reason.
But I'm disappointed that some people do have reason and plenty of rhyme.
We all really are connected.
And not just by kissing charts or poker games or parks or late night phone calls.
Each decision is going to end up shaping someone else's life.
"Life is life," he said. Yes, life is life. Life is everything.
Life is ______.
You can fill in that blank with ANYTHING, which is marvelous and exciting and terrifying.
Life is life and anything can happen.
We happened, they happened.
People leave, I'll stay (right where you left me).
I'll figure it out, because ... that's life!
"What a surprise, that we're both happy at the same time."
A dinner party and a rainstorm.
We all almost had the same name.
But cheating boys make girls smarter,
Surprises like this make it so much harder
to trust.
Luckily, cheating boys bring girls together.
And bringing angry girls together can only cause mayhem.
I apologize for the lack of clarity or meaning in this entry, but it really does match my train of thought.
Thank you and goodnight.
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[25 Jul 2007|12:53am] |
Have you ever seen the sky turn yellow?
Right before a storm?
Right before it rains big, plump raindrops and thunder is not too far off?
Have you ever sat outside and waited for it to start?
The grass, the leaves, the greens, are all greener against a yellow sky;
The world is an indie movie.
It seems as though any minute a tight-jean wearing misunderstood aviator sunglasses kind of punk is going to drive up in his beat up blue mustang, calling your name as the first raindrop plops on his windshield.
Have you ever danced in the street?
Right under the stars?
Right in the middle of the universe?
Have you ever trusted that your decision was right?
Some things really are more important than others,
But your priorities can be a little crooked.
Before the sun rises, this could all backfire and you would be left to dance in the street alone with nothing but a broken heart and a vow never to listen to your "womanly instincts" again.
But sometimes it's better to get wet,
to choose to get caught in the storm,
to leave your umbrella at home,
to make the most of summer warmth.
Sometimes you have to lose a battle to win the war,
or break a heart to learn a lesson.
It's okay to ignore the obvious.
At least there will be no regrets.
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| it should be illegal to write shitty poetry this late at night |
[12 Jul 2007|04:09am] |
Good morning, dearest.
I wish your home could be where my heart is;
almost every night I fall asleep with you,
connected by a telephone wire.
We could meet in California,
make a home right there
where the water meets the earth.
I could fall asleep but you'll still be there
waiting for the sunrise.
You could keep your promises
and I could see through your teasing.
I could trust you someday,
I think
(I've had some trouble with that lately).
And if there comes a time
when we must say goodbye
I promise I'll have something more to say than
"Good luck."
What does it mean
to dream of you?
The faceless moon offers me no answers tonight.
Maybe the stars are just holes in the sky,
portals to the heavens beneath that thick velvet veil.
Maybe we're stars, too,
if heaven lies within.
Good morning, dearest,
go back to sleep
while I wait for the sunrise.
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| Eye infection blues and teenage angst. |
[06 Jul 2007|09:57pm] |
I need a change.
I'm thinking
more piercings
and
a haircut
maybe
new makeup
just because
I can't seem to
change
anything
else.
Ithoughtthingsweresupposedtogetbetter.
At least I have college to look forward to,
ificanfindawaytoaffordit.
damn.
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| Be the change you wish to see in the world. |
[22 Jun 2007|12:07am] |
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Hey There Delilah |
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I just finished the fourth season of Sex and the City.
I started it yesterday.
How could I finish a whole season's worth of show in two days?
Could it be that men seem to come easily in this fictionalized New York or is it that Carrie still manages to look fabulous while click clacking on her laptop, questioning the City, the friends, and, of course, all those men?
It really seems unhealthy - not only the fact that I watched 18 episodes in 48 hours, but how the characters on the show seem to float in and out of love and other people's beds like it's the only sensible way to live life.
Can anyone really fall in and out of love that fast?
Can anyone really fall in and out of anything that fast?
You never really hear about people falling out of hate and moving on to hate someone else within the week.
Or people falling into depression and then hopping right out of it in a matter of months.
So is love more simple?
Or just more desired?
Why is it not easy for me?
To fall back in love?
With life.
I miss being in love with life.
And I'm sick of faking it -
after what seems like forever, my frustration is translating into horrible, rotten sarcasm
and headaches
and late night calls
trying to figure out why he is sad
instead of focusing why
I am.
In other news, I found my song today -
one I can cry to, look at old pictures to,
or make a remix of and dance around like a ridiculously happy prat.
(Remix still to come)
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| Teenage Angst. |
[19 Jun 2007|03:01pm] |
High school is bothering me.
Pictures posted everywhere
smothered
in fake forevers.
Nowadays,
a forever means a month
tops
and
everyone is
so
serious.
I thought
this was
our chance to
make as many mistakes as possible
(get them out of the way)
but it looks as though
permanence is the goal.
Nothing is permanent for me.
My only loves will soon be
gone
and
the thought
of it
makes
my insides
ache.
No boy
takes a second glance
at me.
I don't blame them -
I'm second best.
Anyone can say
'I love you.'
It doesn't require
extra breath
or second
thoughts.
Forever means
a month
or less.
Dangerous words
upon your lips -
a waste of a
good kiss.
You should have kissed me.
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[04 Jun 2007|10:42pm] |
Did anyone else know that no one is allowed in the auditorium during lunch anymore?
I was having a movie moment singing session at the piano in there today and security escorted me out.
What has this world come to?
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[03 Jun 2007|08:36pm] |
I'm in another one of those
"nobody understands me"
moods -
snappy, tired, teary-eyed.
I keep remembering that I have to go to school tomorrow
and try to keep up,
try to find a good spot to sit at during lunch
without bothering anyone,
and try to ignore her flirting with him.
I have given up on the boy front.
Or at least that's what I'm saying right now,
but in a few minutes I'll be cursing her again.
It's all bad karma.
I am back at square one, it seems,
only I am not a freshman.
Nope, no longer a rosy cheeked, skinny little naive thing,
excited for the future,
willing to be a chorus girl,
not trying to make any statements.
I'm too smart now-
I know how things work.
I went into my living room to watch West Side Story and my little sister blocked the TV and said I wasn't allowed to watch the "stupidest movie ever."
I told her sometimes being in this house makes me want to go to college.
I've never actually meant that before.
But I did.
I want new people,
fresh faces,
new opportunities,
definitely new boys.
I've given up on solutions
and answers.
I want to forget.
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| I'm half sick of shadows, said the Lady of Shalott. |
[26 May 2007|09:10pm] |
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You'd think after centuries, nay, millennia of teenage heartbreak and hormonally-induced-17-year-old angst someone would have realized that Prom is a very dangerous event.
Yes, in theory, it sounds very very lovely- wear extra fancy clothes, BATHE, brush your hair, ride in a limo, eat extra fancy food, laugh, dance, schmooze ..
But last night made me feel like prom only really works out for about .05% of the high school population. Dates were ditched, feet were stepped on, make-up ran, 80 dollar hair-dos turned to frizz, excitement turned to disappointment, nails were broken, money was stolen, and the bathrooms were filled with crying teenagers (yes, even the boys' bathroom .. I checked).
Stuffing hundreds of emotional teens in a rather stuffy room is, in itself, a dumb idea. Prom is a breeding ground for heartbreak - maybe you didn't get to dance with that cute guy from English class, perhaps your ex-girlfriend is grinding up on some mustached kid you've never seen in your life, or maybe it bothers you that everyone has someone to kiss but you.
Expectations get shot down, corsages wilt, and waking up the next morning is hell.
Don't get me wrong, there were some fabulous parts of prom - dinner was delightful, the limo was spectacular, the music wasn't that bad, my shoes weren't too painful, and I got to dance with my best friend all night. I have to admit I would have had a better time if I had shed my Prom Queen, majorly cliche, movie-worthy, super perfect Prom ideals. I have to learn to accept that some, no, many MANY things just aren't meant to be, and that life is no Hilary Duff movie.
And karma looked out for me, as I did win a whole television at after prom.
:-)
I wonder how long it will be until things get officially better.
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| Oh my. |
[07 May 2007|07:35pm] |
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Mica isn't that great. |
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Don't you love music?
There's a song for every situation: songs to inspire, to heal, to hurt, to sleep to, to dream to, to cry to, laugh to, to make up dances to ..
And then, sometimes, you find a song that seems to be written just for you.
Well, just for you right now.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am semi-proud, and mostly dismayed to share with you the Christina's Song Of The Moment:
"She loves her mama's lemonade,
Hates the sounds that goodbyes make.
She prays one day she'll find someone to need her.
She swears that there's no difference
Between the lies and complements.
It's all the same if everybody leaves her.
And every magazine tells her she's not good enough,
The pictures that she sees make her cry.
And she would change everything, everything just ask her.
Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,
And she needs someone to take her home.
She's giving boys what they want, tries to act so nonchalant,
Afraid they'll see that she's lost her direction.
She never stays the same for long,
Assuming that she'll get it wrong.
Perfect only in her imperfection.
She's not a drama queen,
She doesn't want to feel this way, only seventeen but tired.
She would change everything for happy ever after.
Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,
But she just needs someone to take her home.
Cuz she's just the way she is, but no ones told her that's ok.
And she would change everything, everything just ask her.
Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,
And she would change everything for happy ever after.
Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,
But she just needs someone to take her home
And just needs someone to take her home. "
There are probably about half a trillion other almost 17 year old girls thinking the exact same thing,
but that's life.
It's not even that great of a song ..
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| Green finch and linnet bird, nightengale, blackbird, teach me how to sing. |
[02 May 2007|09:30pm] |
Do you ever get really jealous of happy people?
Do you get jealous of someone in a relationship even though you would never date her boyfriend in a thousand years?
Today was a good day because I got to give a speech in English.
Just that little rush changed my entire day.
I miss the musical.
I want to have the chance to perform everyday.
All the time.
And have I mentioned I'm sorry for these stupid posts?
I don't really expect anyone to take them seriously or anything,
I've just been ridiculously anti-social lately when it comes to anything more serious than a fake beard.
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| I guess the May flowers are procrastinating. |
[01 May 2007|07:42pm] |
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Green finch and linnet bird ... How is it you sing? |
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I was wondering the other day which would be the most painful:
to have someone who once cared about you
-see you, give an awkward wave, motion as though to ask how you are, but then walk away,
-look at you but not see you,
-see you, look down as if disgusted,
-or just not bother to look for you anymore.
Today I feel like I experienced all of these situations, and none of them are the most painful.
They all suck.
When I got home, I thought about making a vow to be more like Isaac, who says hello to anyone he knows every chance he gets.
But I'm too stuck in my head.
I probably don't see people who expect hello's everday.
And I feel awful for it.
I've also come to the concrete conclusion that things will never go back to the way they were.
Things will get better, though, eventually, right?
But now that I don't have that slice of hope that my previous life will just fall back into place,
I really have no idea how to get happy again.
I'm sorry I'm so emo.
I've been writing like a fiend.
In notebooks, on math homework.
Letters to people who don't know me anymore, poems that aren't mine, and lyrics galore.
It just helps a little.
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| It never occurred to want more |
[10 Apr 2007|07:02pm] |
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Ragtime |
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Its funny how people come into your life, unexpected, unannounced. You find them sitting next to you in your least favorite class or standing behind you in the lunch line. There's light conversation, nothing radical, but the more you see these strangers the more you want to know; conversation turns to questions, questions turn to deeper understanding. Soon, you can tell when they're having a bad day by the look on their face and all you want to do is cheer them up.
Suddenly, he's everywhere. Running into him is effortless, but you find yourself memorizing where you could casually bump into him again. The first meetings are fate, the others clandestine. It all fits together in the strangest most unexpected way. This person who meant nothing a month ago is now the one that you're hoping is looking out for you in the halls, too. Then it dawns on you. This absurd goose chase means feelings. Yes, feelings. Chick flick, head-over-heels in under 60 seconds, butterflies in your stomach, knees knocking, goosebump raising feelings. Who could blame you? He laughs at your jokes and doesn't seemed bothered by the constant hellos and how are yous.
Without warning, the whole scenario is routine. You both expect to see each other, to care about the other's problems, to turn normal conversations into a slew of inside jokes and secrets. You cross your fingers, praying that he's not secretly annoyed by all this, that he finds this new relationship as extraodinary as you do. That boy who played in that band or stood next to you at that football game where all the lights went out goes from nobody to THE nobody in a matter of days and chance meetings.
Next thing you know, he's introducing you to his mother and kissing you in his basement. Nothing could be better. A best friend who wants to cuddle with you? Its too good to be true. Now you meet him in the halls like clockwork, same spot, same time, and you no longer have to question his intentions.
But
Its even funnier how people leave your life, almost as quickly as they appeared. After hours of laughs and jokes and affection, there's tears and disappointment and soon, he's just another face in the crowd. Walk by him in the hallway, and expect nothing so you don't get hurt when he looks past you. Nothing could be worse. A friend lost and no more cuddling, no more trusting in the fact that someone is there for you.
There will be others. There are always new faces in the crowd. There is always a chance that one of them could finally be good for you. It could be that boy you interviewed for the paper, or that boy who needs a haircut. It could be the boy you see in the hall between almost every class. Is it fate? Or wishful thinking?
Or stupidity?
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chrissy_goes_gr's journal