Wednesday, January 30, 2013

I'm a Liar and There's Nothing Compulsive About It







At 6:40 my alarm goes off. I tell it to go to hell.

Annnnd the lies begin. I don't want it to go to hell. I'm quite fond of the stupid thing.

At 6:40 I press snooze, telling myself that today I will curly my hair in record time, and today traffic will cease to exist.

Two lies. I've been awake for thirty seconds.

At 6:49, I convince myself that I'm not tired, I feel good, I like school, I love people, and I'm depressed I'm happy.

Five lies, just to get myself out of bed.

At 6:51, I put in the Gossamer vinyl. I professionally act like every freaking song doesn't remind me of him.

At 6:53, I stare in the mirror and pretend like I don't notice that my hair is still falling out, my nails are chipping off, and my skin has lost its pigment so when the doctor asks I can lie and say I'm getting better.

At 7:11 I finish up my hair and put my make up on. I force myself to believe it makes me look pretty.

At 7:13 I stand in front of the mirror and tell myself I'm not skinny enough.

At 7:14 I am still standing in front of the mirror and I tell myself I'm too skinny.

One of them is a lie and I don't know which.

At 7:15 I put on a shirt and act like I'm wearing it because it's my favorite shirt, not because I'm trying to impress the guy.

At 7:17 I put on that watch and pretend even though he gave it to me I don't think about him when I wear it.

At 7:17 I stop lying to myself for 12 seconds and put on a different watch. But then I act like this one doesn't remind me of him either.

At 7:20 my mom comes in and says a prayer. I say "amen" even though I didn't listen to a single word she said.

This lie bothers me the most.

At 7:22 my mom asks me if I am sleeping better. I say yes.

At 7:22 my mom asks me if I need lunch money. I say yes.

At 7:25 my dad says the same thing he has all my life: "Promise me you'll have a good day?" I smile while saying "of course" and I kiss him on the cheek. I've been lying for 18 years.

At 7:27 I pet my dog and tell him I love him more than anything.

I think I love my best friend more.

At 7:28 I grab a Western Family water bottle and walk out the door. For some reason I feel like I'm lying to Dasani.

At 7:33 I smile and wave in a car to pull in front of me, but as soon as they do I flip them off.

I'm a living breathing contradiction.

At 7:41 I parallel park and give myself a high five.

This parking job is crap. The worst. That high five was bull.

At 7:43 I pass her in the hall and tell her she looks cute.

At 7:44 he says hi so I ask how he is doing.

I don't give a damn how he is doing.

At 7:46 I sit down in class and tell the teacher I'm late because I almost ran over a pregnant raccoon.

At 7:51 you ask how I'm doing. I say fantastic.

I have been awake for one hour and eleven minutes.
It's not even eight in the morning.
I have lied 27 times.





I'm a Liar and There's Nothing Compulsive About It PLAYLIST: http://8tracks.com/herbrokenbehavior/i-m-a-liar-and-there-is-nothing-compulsive-about-it

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Reality Pertaining to Her

Her name is Kat.

That's the name she would introduce herself as when she was a child.

Not because she liked cats. Dogs are much preferred. But because Cat Stevens was her favorite artist when she was a mere fifth grader.

Also, she thought it gave her class.


Her name is Kat Stratford.


That's because she wishes she had the guts to flash Mr. Chapin to get Heath Ledger out of detention.
Freak, she wishes she had the guts to get sent to detention.

You will discover her favorite color is gray. Because gray is overlooked. Gray is that other side of sometimes. Gray tried to choose but found it liked being alone the best.

You will hear ALL about how she fell in love with him in a year and he fell out of love with her in a day. She apologizes profusely in advance for this. Here it is: Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Seriously. Sorry.


You will know all about her slutty underwear. Really. You will.


You will find that she is more afraid of dying a virgin than dying young. How all the sudden she thinks more about sex than how the hell she is going to get into heaven.


You will see how her favorite words are in a feud. Which one is better? Broken or Beautiful? Or does Bitch just take the trophy? And oh, the word Almost needs to die.


 You will learn how she likes to kiss but hates to hold hands. How she puts her head on boys shoulders because it's one place she actually feels safe.


You will understand that the days she forgets to bring headphones to school are almost worse than the day that man knocked on her door.


You will read about how she hugs the toilet seat more than her mom. And presses her scarred cheek against that godforsaken bathroom floor more than her dads chest.


You will notice that she likes music more than she likes people. Actually, how she likes most things more than people. Except for those few she can't help but love with her whole damn heart.


She promises you will hear about all these things. Why? She always forgives, but she never forgets.


They always say: "you are the author of your own story..." But EVERYONE is the author of their own story. And my story clashes with yours. And your story falls in love with hers. And her story destroys his. And his story completely changed mine. And now? Now we are all scrawling on everyone elses ripped pages. 


So Kat? She is the author of her story, but so are you. You are changing hers everyday. And she wants you* to know that.


And she, well, she is obviously me.


And this is my story that never was a story. This is my reality.


My name is Kat Stratford.


Reality Pertaining to Kat PLAYLIST: http://8tracks.com/herbrokenbehavior/reality-pertaining-to-kat



*Dear you: You are a specific person. 
And I wish you would know that.