Posts Tagged ‘inspired’

I spent the next hour waiting for Gray with anticipation, pacing back and forth wondering what she would think of this. How would she feel about me and what I planned to do? I worried about my silk robe, would she like it, would she care? Why did I care? I had spent hours deciding where to place everything. I built a candle lit walkway to the bed which was surrounded in more candles. I opened the curtains letting the moonlight fill the room. The flames flickered left and right as air moved throughout the room creating shadows in the night.

I heard the familiar screech of the metal door along the brick and jumped at the sound, she was here. My heart began to beat against my chest, I placed my hand over it to try to slow the thumps. It didn’t work.

The door was open now, there stood the silhouette of Gray,  I could barely make out the expression on her face but it looked to be worry.

“Hayleigh?” she whispered.

I walked over to her and as my figure became visible in the candle light she smiled with relief.

“You scared me, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight. What is all this? What are you wearing? What’s–”

I stepped closer to her and reached out for the purse she had slung over her shoulder. I lifted it up over her and dropped it to the floor. Grabbing her hand I led her through the walkway to the bed.

“Hayles, I don’t know what you have planned here but I told you I don’t need this. I can live without this, don’t do this for me.”

I kept silent. Slowly I took off her jacket, revealing the white tank top she had underneath, her porcelain skin became covered with goose bumps.

“ Stop,” she insisted but she never attempted to push me away. She wanted this, but she did not want this for me.

I pulled down her jeans, so skinny she was that they fell over her hips with little struggle. As I reached for the bottom of her tank top she grabbed both my hands. Staring at me directly, she was pleading with her eyes for me not to continue. I couldn’t stop now I had to do this. This night was not for her it was for us, to connect us in a way that I had spent so many years avoiding. I wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned into her lips, they were as soft as rose petals. Slowly I melted my lips to hers, she let out a gentle sigh. I lifted the bottom of her shirt up, up, up separating our lips only to remove the garment from her body. She shivered in the cold of the night yet her skin was warming with every moment we touched. I slipped my hands under her panties, over her hips, down her thighs they fell to the floor.

The first step was done, now it was my turn. I pulled my lips away from her and took a step back. Her beauty was heightened in the moonlight, she still held the look of nervousness which was an odd showing for her. I knew she was not anxious for herself but rather for me. Gray knew me, she knew this was difficult for only me, and she hated for me to be uncomfortable. But what I hated more than this vulnerability was seeing worry in her eyes, a rarity I wish I never had to see.

I wanted to ease her mind, so I began to untie the belt on my silk robe. I felt the air hit my navel, my breasts, suddenly I too was covered in goose bumps. In all my preparation for tonight I forgot to turn up the heat.

Gray’s face was lit with a sudden smile, but she was not looking at my body, only my face. I let the robe slip over my shoulders and fall to the floor. Their we stood, bare, staring at only each others eyes. I too began to smile, this woman was everything to me and I only wanted to be everything to her, and tonight I hoped I would be.

I took a step toward her and laced my fingers into hers and sat onto the bed. Still staring at her I guided her body down. I kissed her lips gently, pulling away for only a moment and placing my hand over her eyes, making them close.

I began to kiss down her jaw line, down her neck, across her collarbone. Over her shoulder down her left arm, taking my time as I came to the bend in her elbow, she let out a soft giggle. I took my time with each of her lengthy fingers. Fingers that had been stained by the colors of the rainbow. Fingers that had created such art that made me ache inside. Her palm was smooth and smelled the familiar smell of paint, the smell I always associated with her. I placed her hand at her side and continued on over her hip, down the inside of her thigh. Gray sighed and placed her hand on mine, I continued going down her leg, around her knee. When I reached her foot, I kissed each toe, her sole was dry and calloused from years of wearing bare feet. Her toes curl under as I kissed the middle of her foot. I looked up at Gray and a saw a smile set upon her face.

I moved over to her right leg, kissing along the inside of her knee, up to the slant between her thigh and pelvis. She shuttered in anticipation, but I couldn’t do it, this night was not about sex. I kissed her belly button, blowing gently against it, she laughed and ran her fingers through my hair. I Kissed up her torso until I reached her breasts, they were supple and felt of velvet. I kissed each one, careful not to leave an area untouched by my lips.

Gray took in a deep slow breath and released a quiet whisper “ You forgot this one,” she said as she raised her right arm and wiggled her fingers. She smiled, I laughed.

“Of course, how could I forget, that’s my favourite one.”

I straddled her hips and pulled her arm to my mouth covering it completely, taking extra care with each finger.

Last was her face, her beautiful, glorious face. The face that had woke me from the nightmare of a life I was living before I met her.

“Open your eyes,” I said. There she lay with those grey storm clouds in her eyes, she did not look through me but rather into me, into the depths of my being that I desperately tried to keep hidden but were not safe from her stark gaze.

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, along her cheek bones. Then down the bridge of her nose, across her chin, finally reaching the holy grail of her face, her mouth,  which was slightly parted waiting, longing for my lips to press against them. I let my lips hover above hers for a moment, barely grazing them. I could feel her hot breath escape her lips and wisp softly over mine.

Looking straight into the grey abyss of her eyes I spoke softly, “I love you Gray,” and then I let my lips fall against hers. Our bodies were moulded against each other, I could feel our hearts beating together. I don’t know how long we laid there melting into each other, but I could have stayed there forever. Eventually I rolled off of her onto my side, our hands were still intertwined. Gray laid there with her eyes closed, smiling, I lay there staring at her, wishing we could stay like this forever, immersed in our love.

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It’s a weird thing growing up. I’m on the verge of my 24th year and I never thought I would get this old. As a child part of me believed I would never grow up even though I desperately wanted to. Now I find myself wanting to be young again, free of responsibility and certain wisdom I have gained that comes with getting older.

It’s strange when you’re a teenager you think that what you know, the ideas, the opinions you have will always be that way. You think that you are who you are going to be, that you couldn’t be more you than you are at sixteen. How naive, at that age I think you are the farthest from who you truly are. Hormones and influences contribute too much to your being when you’re that age. I remember thinking I knew everything when I was a teen, and I remember my mom constantly arguing with me that I didn’t, but I would not step down. I was always irritated by people hating on teens, saying they were ignorant and reckless. I still believe people can be too hard on teens but it is not a lie that many are very ignorant and reckless, but in their defense they don’t know any better. I think the problems between most adults and teenagers is that adults forget what is was like being that age and teens have no concept of what it’s like to be an adult. In all honesty they are on complete opposites of the spectrum, resulting in many heads being butted.

About six years ago I remember a friend of mine getting upset at me for dabbling in some things she did not agree with. I had been out of high school for a year and had been thrust into this world of being able to make my own decisions without having the guilt of my parents looming over me head, which was freeing for me. I experimented while she was still in high school, still living under rule and she was not happy with my decisions. I recall her saying to me “You’ve changed,” I was so angry at her in that moment. I hadn’t changed, how dare she say that to me, I was still the same person. Needless to say our friendship went into hibernation and a year and a half later I got a message from her apologizing for overreacting saying that she too was now making some similar decisions and had a new perspective. I never really gave up on our friendship during that time, I knew she was younger and hadn’t yet the ability to understand. I knew she would come around and she did, I’m happy to report our friendship has been going strong for the last 5 years now.

Recently the topic of changing has come up again in my life and now I am not so negative about it. I have changed and I’m proud of it. I’m glad I am not like my 16yo self(aren’t we all?), we are not meant to be our teenaged selves. I don’t believe in the things I used to, I don’t have the opinions I used too. As I’ve gotten older I have become more open with my ideas, less judgmental of others and more accepting. However, even though many things have changed about me I still am fundamentally who I was as a 5 year old. I don’t like to let things define me but I have always been these three things:

Loud, I was born with a high decibel voice, I am destine for a life of my dad constantly telling me to lower my voice (which is not possible unless I whisper lol so get used to it dad!)

Talkative, Since I said my first word at 9months and haven’t stopped. I could talk about anything and everything all day long. Nothing makes me more happy than a good conversation (it’s they way to my heart).

Honest, My mom always says “Come on Lindsay, tell us how you really feel,” I have never been shy about what I am thinking, sometimes it gets me in trouble but I truly believe it’s the best policy.

I guess I’m supposed to call myself and adult now but I still have so much kid left in me (considering I work with 5yos all day). I feel like I am on the border of childhood and adulthood. I am gaining knowledge everyday but still trying to find the novelty in things. I hope to keep this quality as long as I can. Being an adult is no fun without a little novelty and childhood is enriched with a little knowledge. Cheers to growing up and growing young simultaneously.

Peace and Love

Lindsay the Rambler of Things

I have taken break from writing my story Gray Hayles because I have felt a lack of inspiration. Which is weird because this story up until a month ago was dominating my thoughts constantly. Today that break ended. I was reading another persons blog when they suggested taking break from a story is fine but when it is too long it can become toxic. This blog suggested you write words no matter what even if you feel like what you’re saying in your head is not how it is coming out on paper. I took this advice and began to write one of the most poignant parts of this story. Somehow the words came together and I was able to write pages upon pages and when I was done I felt the rush I hadn’t felt in a month. The feeling that this story is still here and I still have the inspiration to write it. So this blog is sending out a big THANK YOU to http://throughtwoblueeyes.wordpress.com/2012/05/21/when-i-write/. Today my inspiration came from you and I am grateful for it. I will leave you with a little exert from the pages I wrote today which may be the best I have written so far. I am now more than ever overwhelmed with the excitement of finishing this piece.

There she lay with grey storm clouds in her eyes, staring into my soul. She did not look through me but rather into me, into the depths of my being that I desperately tried to keep hidden but were not safe from her stark gaze.

I was browsing topics and came across this blog http://viewfromtheafternoon87.wordpress.com/2012/05/14/ever-wonder/ This post inspired me to write this poem. Hope you enjoy!

Sometimes I wonder.

Who comes here?

Who places their feet,

where I ponder?

Sometimes I question.

Why is this life?

Why do my eyes cry,

is this a lesson?

Sometimes I think.

Will things change?

Will my heart float,

or continue to sink?

Sometimes I hear.

What are the words?

What can they do,

to dissolve my fear?

Sometimes I wonder.

Who comes here?

Who sits with me,

While I ponder?

I recently began reading 1984 by George Orwell and was struck by this line “It’s a beautiful thing , the destruction of words.”
For those of you who are not familiar with the novel it is about a Dystopian society in which the entire population is under surveillance 24/7 and the language is continually broken down to the bare minimum needed to communicate (newspeak). By destroying words the government (Big Brother) is able to control how people think, understand and interact with each other.
After reading that line I instantly remembered writing this blog (watch your language) and I was slightly shocked at myself! There IS a reason we have synonyms they are not useless (what was I thinking?!). I think sometimes I am frustrated with people using words improperly and in inappropriate ways which can lead to miscommunication. I still however do believe that silence is a virtue, and that when we are truly silent we can hear what is most important!
Peace and Love
Lindsay

wordsofhonestunwisdom

The older I get the more I have noticed that Language is in many ways a hinderance to humanity. I remember being a kid and saying a word over and over until it didn’t even sound like a real word. This exercise made me question Who decides words? Who said that one is one not two? Who said up was up an not down? I then started to wonder what if everything I knew as language was backwards. What if what we know as red was actually called green? This intrigued me.

As I reached what some would call Adulthood I noticed another thing about Language, Tone. I had long heard the phase It’s not what you say but how you say it. As an adolescent I hated the phrase. To me I delivered words of rebellion in the same way I delivered words in usual conversation. Being…

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This is a verse from one of my all time favourite songs by the amazing Joni Mitchell (who happened to grow up only 3 hours from my hometown in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan). The song is called A Case of You , it is beautifully written and Joni delivers it so well with her unique voice and style. I have added the file below and I recommend you take a listen. (This is my favourite verse from the song and holds one of my favourite quotes)

Oh I am a lonely painter

I live in a box of paints

I am frightened by the devil

And I’m drawn to those one that ain’t afraid 

I remember that time you told me, you said,

“Love is touching souls,”

Surely you touched mine

Cause’ part of you pours out of me

In these lines from time to time

A Case of You

Sometimes when we are struggling and suffering in our lives we tend to become angry at the situation we are in. Often times asking The Universe “Why me? Can it get any worse? How did this happen?” As I have gotten older (even though I still consider myself a kid, even though I’m not) I have realized that becoming angry at any situation does not make it better. Being grateful however, can make your mood about the situation change. Next time you are facing adversity stop and take a moment to be grateful for all the things you do have and the things that bring you joy and happiness. I know it can be extremely hard to follow this advice and I too am one who can be known to fight gratefulness. Sometimes when your down you don’t want to focus on the good because everything around you appears bad. So next time you’re having a difficult time in life, struggling or just being unhappy think about these few words below. Think about all that you do have and not what you are losing or fighting. Just being grateful for breathing can have a powerful affect on your psyche.

“Change your Attitude to Gratitude.” (These words just popped into my head this morning, I love it when that happens!)