Category: Bits and Pieces

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of becoming a writer. Along the way I’ve had people tell me that someday I’ll be a famous author, amazing the world with my words. 

But now I look at myself, and I look at the words and world around me. And I am not a writer. 

To be a writer I have to write. Yes, I write poems here and there. Yes, I have published a book. Yes, I have posted pieces on websites and written things for school. But I don’t write. 

A writer writes things every day, a writer works to find the words whenever possible. I don’t write enough to consider myself a writer. 

But I’d like to change that. So I have a plan. I’ve tried it before and failed, but this time I believe I can succeed. I want to write once a day, every day, for an entire year. I now have the grit, determination, passion, focus, and dedication to see this goal through. I’m ready. 

So a year from now on March 1, 2018, I will be writing so frequently that it is habit. And this habit will not be a nuisance. This will not be a task that I force myself to complete every day. I want to find the strength inside myself to write, really write, and to enjoy it. 

I love writing. Now, I want to love being a writer. 

Day one… check. 

The silver screen is a beautiful thing. Hollywood creates story after story, weaving together words and visuals and music. Movies are timeless, forever on repeat in our minds. They show color and light and sound in an array of love and light and promise. 

The Oscars are tomorrow night. A time to honor the years’ greatest films, greatest actors, greatest members of Hollywood. Not everyone deserves to win, but they will. Not every film is an amazing masterpiece. But some are. And those are the movies that haunt us, hold us, capture us, and surround us. 

The Oscars are almost here. What’s your favorite film?

We are not your boys. Don’t compare us to your male players because we are not them. We are a different kind of 

fierce, ferocious, passionate, nasty players. 

We shoot differently. We pass differently. We dribble differently. We rebound differently. We play differently. 

You can teach us all you want about the sport we love. You can correct our mistakes, you can tell us to play harder, you can sit us on the bench or play us all game. You can do all these things.

But don’t compare us to a bunch of 

boys.

We wake with a jolt, look at the clock, race down the hall, race down the stairs. 

We gather around, point and laugh, stare and cry. We squeal with delight (mostly me). We sit down to unwrap. 

We rip open boxes, tear off paper, cheer and smile and dance with joy. We anxiously hope that others like our gifts, even though they always do. 

We spend time together. We laugh, we play, we eat, we hug, we celebrate. 

For me, Christmas is about family, love, celebration, and happiness. For me, Christmas is about “we”. 

Happy holidays, no matter what you celebrate and why. Be safe, be grateful, be kind…

And wish for lots of books. 🙂

The smell of snow lingers in the air as Christmas music plays on all the radio stations. Wind nips at the red noses of children who dream of gifts and love. Lights are strung up around the town and trees glow beautiful in the windows of my neighbors. There is an energy stirring as the countdown to the holidays begins…

Here we go.

“Happy Birthday!” 

“It’s your birthday?”

“It’s the birthday girl!”

These words and more followed me around today, as I walked the hallow halls of middle school. I smile, wave, give thanks, and give hugs. I get cards, a decorated locker, and a lot of sticky notes spelling out “Happy Birthday Kiley!” It’s a great, festive, fun day. I have the best friends in the world, and today they amazed me with their excitement and kindness. I love them all so much- although not enough to give them any of the cake I had for lunch. 🙂

It’s been a full, fun, amazing year. I can’t wait to start the next one. I turn fourteen soon. I will be blowing out candles and having songs sung to me and so much more. Because today is my birthday. 

I better make a wish. 

Excitement fills the air

Words fill the air

Strange noises 

New faces

New places

The show is about to begin 

Lights. 

Camera. 

Action. 

Music speaks to me when nothing else can. It perks me up when I’m down, it wakes me up when I’m tired, and it fills my soul with warmth. I love music and the way it speaks to me. And now, I’ve gotten to a place where I’m not ashamed. I used to be embarrassed of the music I like. I really only like pop music, which some people find ridiculous. But I love pop music. I love Taylor Swift, The Girl and the Dreamcatcher, Daya, Bea Miller, Alessia Cara, Sabrina Carpenter… The list goes on and on. However, the list of genres does not. And I’m okay with that. I love music, pop music. And that’s that. Music of all kinds is beautiful. It does things nothing else can. It’s not as quiet as a book, not as loud as hanging with friends. But music is my escape. And I find that beautiful in every way. 

The universe. Our galaxy. Our solar system. Our planet. The world is so, so, so small. 

But it’s huge. I’m one girl, in one town. In one state, in one country, on one continent. One hemisphere. I’m small. The world is so, so, so big.

Every second, someone dies. Every second, someone is born. Life is a constant cycle, a cycle in the midst of a really big universe. A really big existence. 

My days stretch into weeks, into years, into decades. The decades make a lifetime. The lifetime makes me. My future is so big and bright and overwhelming. But it’s so, so, so small compared to everything else.

Existence is a cycle of life and death, a circle of big and small. We are small, but we are strong. We can make our existence worthwhile. 

I plan each day at a time. Sometime each week. Sometimes I plan for decades in the future. 

I don’t know what I’m trying to say with this. Just that existence is big. But so are we. So are our lives.