Friday, December 25, 2009

Christmas Cheer

A very Merry Christmas to you and yours.

May 2010 bring the promise and hope that we all need.

Stick together.
We love you.

Photobucket

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Winter Solstice

I have been such a horrible December blogger.

But let's try and fix that.

I lay here alone, about three days until Christmas.
And remember what an interesting time of year this is for me.
Emotionally, physically, financially, just everything about it.
It's about as bittersweet as old chocolate in the advent calendar.

Finances...

I say whatever about it now.
The ends will justify the means until January kicks in.
It will still be worth it, nonetheless.
But it won't be as painful until the reality spins me sideways.
It's a financially tough time for everyone.
And the holidays rolling around makes it no better.
I know for me, personally, it's been a tough few months financially.
But let's just hope 2010 brings new promise and hope during this dark time.

Physically...

It's all so damn draining!
The shopping, the stress, the wrapping.
Sometimes I wonder if Christmas is more about the presentation than the actual holiday itself.
I feel that this year, more than others, I haven't really been able to enjoy the holiday cheer just from being too busy trying to put Christmas together.
Hopefully tomorrow it'll all set in for me.

And emotionally...
Christmas is an emotionally trying time for everyone.
It's the end of the year and you take reflections on everything this past year and make your lists as to how to make the next year better.
But something isn't quite there for me this year.
And for once, everything is almost virtually perfect.
I have a wonderful job that I'm thankful everyday for, despite the occasional low recognition and abuse to some degree. (But I know that comes with any job)
I have wonderful people in my life. A beautiful family, friends that I love with every fiber of my being, a boyfriend that I've waited my whole life for.
I'm continuing my education in higher learning.
And yet something is missing...
Something is empty.
I wouldn't say I'm unhappy, per say.
But I feel an emptiness. A disconnection that frankly I don't know how to find.
And it confuses me.
It makes me debate how natural my situations are.
If they are forced by my imagination.
Or if my imagination is what is making them feel so unnatural for me to be able to accept everything.

Maybe for once it's that I don't have to really fix anything, and I don't know how to operate on dormant in that department.

I don't know.
I hope that 2010 brings me some answers.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Bittersweet November

Amidst the ebay fettish, the freshly colored rainbow totem pole on the white board (with the exception of the color yellow's absence), the anticipation to see Precious (Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire), and the bruises embelleshing my skin from the waist down due to a ridiculous slip down the stairs last night, it is yet another Monday afternoon inside of the cave. It has been a rather reflective, dramatic weekend involving carbonate dreams, hurtful words, and the movie "Coraline".

It was a grey weekend. One that I wish I stayed inside for. Or at least slept off. But I guess that's what tonight is for.

I don't even know what I feel like writing. I feel that there is so much to say, but I couldn't even start it. Let alone divulge further. It seems that November is the end and the beginning to so many things. The beginning of Holiday cheer, and bankruptcy at the same time. Thoughts reflective on the year and setting up goals for the one underneath the fresh fallen snow.

For me, I hope to be making more music than ever. Investing more of my empty brain space in cinema knowledge, lose 20 pounds, gain muscle, cast out the murky waters of my mind dirtied by others or things I've done myself. I hope to have done at least 12 shows by the end of 2012. Be in my new apartment. Work. Work. Work. And play. Live harder than I've lived this year with a clearer head and a brighter, finer tuned outlook on myself and self worth. I want to spend more time with my family, balance out my time easier. To share more. To take more. To sleep more. To be awake for as long as possible. Be the best of everything and not close out 2010 with the bittersweet taste in my mouth that 2009 has left me.

That's not to say I haven't learned anything.

Oh, no.

As always, we learn more and more every year. And I am no exception. Despite the screaming, the pity, the tears, and the successes, I believe I am that much stronger having gone through it all and being here to tell the tale.

In other news, on a much lighter meal, as much as we all wish we could hate her, Lady GaGa has done it again with another quirky, bizarre, and freakishly stylish video.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thanksgiving Feedings

And its another Thanksgiving.
A time to be reflective on what we are thankful for having both within ourselves and around us.

I find myself, in my tye-dye sweatshirt, on my roommate's bed, at 3 AM, in a state of enigma.

Of how much.

I

am thankful for.

Yet, at the same time, I find myself empty.

When I should be so full.

Why do I always get like this?

"Is this what I really want?"
"Is this how I really feel?"
"Is this really right?"
"Am I really supposed to do this?"

I guess time would be the best answer to all four of these questions.

Yet in the pit of my stomach.
And in the apparent evidence of my faces.
And aspirations.
And dreams.

The answer is probably there.

...

So what's the issue at hand?

You're empty until I digest.

Maybe processes for me are slower than most.

...But what if I'm right?

Then again, I'm so often proven incorrect.

Just let me swallow.
And try to take this

one

day

at

a

time

and

not

waste

space

thinking.

Owl City

They are going to be huge, you wait and see! He sounds like Ben Gibbard's younger brother.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Hunger Pains

It hurts to be hungry.
When the acids burn in the empty atmosphere.
When you clinch and wince until your muscles break down.
So indecisive.
Oh, it hurts.

It hurts to want.
It hurts to wait.
It hurts to wish.
It hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts.
Like when you lost your teddy bear for the first time.

Nothing is worse than being hungry for something.
Except for not being satisfied with it.
Until the storm passes.
And its over.

Her eyes stared into yours.
So hollowed in their chestnut hue.
Aimlessly invested herself in those shallow pools.
For the favor to never be returned.

And all for one bite.

Just one taste.

Just to satisfy the pain.

Because now,
everything tastes like
ash.
And her soul growls for it.
For something to taste.
Like anything.

Like you.
The sweetest poison.
Illustrious in your shades of ivory and metallic black.

She starves.
While you're full.
And until she finds the strength
to find the sweeter tastes.
And she doesn't need you anymore.
She will starve.

Weening is never easy.
And comes in time.
Minutes. Hours. Days. Months. Years.
But when her time comes.
Then the hunger will be satisfied.
And all will be at peace.

Breathe Me

One of the most innovative music videos of our generation.

18.19.20

Due to my roommate, boyfriend, and best friend having coinciding birthdays for the next three days.

Here is a little image for the three of you. I love you all.

Friday, November 13, 2009

The Sound of San Francisco

In about 14 hours...

I'm going home.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Songbird

The songbird sits in the windowsill.
While her bright red feathers become the blackest black.
She was left in the rain.
Its such a shame.
She never sings anymore.

Little songbird is far from home tonight.
Some creatures aren't meant to be caged.
But those who are caged, are caged for a reason.
To keep them from singing their song.

What I wouldn't give to set her free.
What I wouldn't give to hear her sing.
What I wouldn't give to say goodbye.
And let her know everything will be alright.

But that will come in time.

Time.
Time.
Time.

Such an envious pot of molasses.
Thick and heavy on the wings.

She won't be going south for the winter this time.
Stuck in that lonely, somber cage.
That cage that paints her already greyed days an even deeper grey.
And covers her eyes when it's already dark outside.

But she'll come to find on her own.
In whatever nest she'll call her home.
That her wings may be clipped.
And her feathers may never be the same.

But she'll sing again.

And she'll come home to me.

Where she belongs.

Wherever the song will take her.

She will sing.

Damn.
Right.
She.
Will.
Sing.

Silence is only temporary until you have the power to open your lungs and let the world know what you have to say.
To sing.

And.
Damn.
Right.
She.
Will.
Sing.

Goodbye, my songbird.
I await the day to see your red feathers one more time.
Until then, know I love you.
For these words mean nothing unless you know the truth behind them.

And.
DAMN.
RIGHT.
SHE.
WILL.
SING.

Monday, October 26, 2009

The Rope Course

And it's another Monday in the basement.
What are we doing here?
Reconnections.
Falling outs.
Stressing.
Relaxing.
Breathing.
Ashtma attack.

Take it all in stride when it all starts to collapse.

Paint these nerves
raw.
Be electric.
Don't miss your
opportunity.
There's nothing worse than
missed opportunity.

Take
it
all
in
when
it
starts
to
CRASH.

Crash.
Bang.
Swing.
Swing.
Swing.

Monkey bars.

Swing.
Swing.
Swing.

The sand below you is lava remember?
Don't hit the ground.
But you need to hit the ground in order to know what's above.
So where do you go?

Swing.
Swing.
Swing.
Swing.

Swing.

It's a Tuesday morning in the basement.
And the tape rewinds.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Billie Holiday, Winter Holiday, Roman Holiday

And I'm realizing that it's so bittersweet.

Maybe I'll figure out exactly what's going on soon.

"This heart of mine hasn't got a ghost of a chance."

Friday, October 9, 2009

Desole, Somebody Prays

Walking on egg shells that are already cracked.
Consistant dissapointment.
Consistant inability to please.

I'm not perfect.

I fold my hands.
And lay my head in my lap.

Take it.

Please.

Just take it.
The strain is thicker than blood.

So.

Just take it.

Pray.
Prey.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Shifting Gears

It started to feel like fall today.
A sign that change is coming.
It's something in the air.
Something in the sun.
Caught in the falling leaves.
Like little suncatchers glistening.
How fast things change.
In as little as a week.
A moment.
A second.
For the best.
Or the worst.
But I guess in the end, everything is for the best.
Even if you know it right away or not.
But are things changing?
Or is it just me?
Am I changing?
Are you?
Are we?
Let's hope that's what it is.
Embrace it.
Easier said than done.
But we'll get there someday.
For now.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Movements In Quick Sand

Move.
Move you say.
It's the only way to get anywhere.

To get away from you.
To get away from me.
To get away from this.
To get away from us.

You push.
Until I'm in a corner.
You stab.
Until I'm crippled in that corner.
I swear I'd take a bullet for you.
But I'd take a bullet over your words any day.
You scream.
Until my voice has decided to quit.
You fight.
Until the fight in me is gone.

Immobilized. Broken. Out of breath.
You say I need to move.

Once strength is regained.
I cautiously scan.
Take a step into the sun.
Only to be drawn into your shade.

Consistency always suited you best.
And what's consistency without the one who's never left?
But who is that fair to?
Time lapses, and look at it backwards.

Please tell me where you want me to go.
Because you won't let me do it on my own.
You're virtually unpleasable.
You're virally indestructable.

I accept that.
Do you?

The difference between a man and a boy is a man takes responsibility for his actions.
Where did the man go you so often claim to be?

You're unsatisfied when I yearn for you.
You're unsatisfied when I yearn to stray from you.
So please.
Fucking place me.

My body is just a timebomb now.
Waiting to fucking explode.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

The Sound Of Settling

Just so we can get this out of the way.

You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.

Put me in a place, because apparently I can't do it on my own.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

I Ain't Never Gonna Shut You Out

Morning, bloggers!

Here's an acoustic cover of 'Halo' by Beyonce.
The video is sort of choppy and the audio is whatever, but enjoy it nonetheless!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

And If You Have A Minute Why Don't We Go Talk About It Somewhere Only We Know

I feel like writing something really angry.
REALLY angry.
But I have no words.
Just a few lines that put together don't make sense.

So instead I take it out on yellow lined paper.
Drawing things.
Anything.
Anything to not be angry.
Anything to release this tension in my wrists.
In my legs.
In my arms.
In my head.

And all I have is some sort out inter galactic adventure.
Made of absolute randomness.
A spaceman, a star maker, a storm maker, and the sandman.
Reflection of my inners?
Maybe.
Maybe not.

All I know is,
I'm angry.
And stuck.
Very stuck.
And the only way to get unstuck is to move.
But I feel like it'll just bring me back here.
Granted, you can't know until you try.
But is there even a point if the conviction is this strong?

Basically...

Fuck.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Told A Story About A Man Who Was Too Afraid To Fly, So He Never Did Land

Let's all take a moment.
A breath.
A sigh.
A tear.
Of silence.
For those who lost their lifes in New York City today 8 years ago.

It really seems like yesterday I was watching the news story in my parents bedroom.
We all were crying.
I've never had such a silent day in elementary school.

It continues to amaze me for as 'domestic' as we consider ourselves to be, how animalistic we still are.
Granted, part of that runs in our veins, we are indeed mammals.
But we preach peace, and wage wars.
Step up, America.
Step up, universe.

But to those affected.
Stay strong.
Keep breathing and push ahead.
It's the best, and only thing we can do.

Mad love floods out of my pores today for you, you, and you.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

And After All, You're My Wonderwall

And now it begins.
Don't act surprised.

I'm really losing all sorts of grip aren't I?

I didn't plan for this.
I swear.
But it doesn't make it hurt less.

Sleep deprived. Dream deprived. The numbness becomes home.
Take a photo before you lose the moment.

But alas,
Let's take a moment to remember to laugh.

There needs to be some kind of sunshine today.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Buttercup Colored Gown

Crack.
And there it goes.
These tired eyes can't even focus on the issue at hand.
Pop.
Squish.
Splash.
Crash.
These sounds are all too farmilliar.
Synaesthesia doesn't exist.
This is all real.
The buttercup colored gown goes up in flames.
And turns into bitter, grey ashes.
Rejuvination is vanquished.
But only for a little while.
For the ashes still exist.
And regardless of where they may go.
It happened.
Mistakes?
Maybe.
Patience?
Maybe.
Insanity?
Indefinitely.
What am I doing?
What are you doing?
Your actions to set me free do nothing but cripple.
Cripple.
Until movement is a privilege.
And leave me at the bottom.
Under the bottom arguably.
So what's left?
Ashes.
Damn ashes.
So I pick them up.
And wonder where I'm supposed to go.
If one doesn't see amidst many.
Almost unanimous.
The one is wrong, isn't it?
Ask the ashes.
Where do we go from here?
On this dark September night.
Caught in these yellow threads.

Ashes to ashes.
Ashes to ashes.

Sing Your Melody, I'll Sing It Loud

I really should not be up...
Considering I need to be at work in about 5 hours, therefore having to get up in 4.
But alas, I can't sleep.
I don't know what I'm doing.
Cracking my fingers and iChatting.
What a way to end a weekend of turbulence.
Just relaxed silence.

Until it all resets.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Helium Fleas

Oh these silly ideas.
Insecurities are such a nasty thing.
You're just a fly on the wall... just a fly on the wall.
But my God you're the most alluring fly I've ever seen.

Oh these silly words.
Blah. Blah. Blah. And some other vices.
Concoctions of broken and improper sentences to attempt to prove a point.
Words don't mean you don't care.

Oh these silly dreams.
And what it takes to make them come true.
Some are poured on a silver spoon stuck in one's mouth.
Others are using those spoons to eat the yogurt they're living off of in order to make it possible.

What complex minds we as creatures hold.
Validation is a question of taste.
An aquired taste, if you will.
True queens don't need to make it known that they have a crown.
Helium fleas don't need to be high when they're coming down.
Explanations are owed to no one.
Yet everyone believes their story should be told.
Words communicate.
Words set free.
Words hold us back.
Words make it real.

But do they?
Is the Bible, the Torah, the Qur'an not just words?
So it's real isn't it?
Then why do you question?
This has no religious intent truly.
It was just said to make a point.
That words validate nothing.
Beliefs do.
Caring does.
If you don't care, why do you speak on it?

These ideas make about as much sense as those helium fleas.
And their ups and downs.
Blushing fevers turn to pale chalk.
And spin you in all kinds of circles.

Oh these silly ideas.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Anger Management

My heart races strong enough to ring the bells.
Hands shaking at such an alarming pace.
Nothing a hospital could prescribe could sedate this foul state of mind.

Taking someone's idea.
What a novel idea!
But you're not that smart are you?
Made up of "deep thoughts" on your "subconscious canvas."
Correct spelling isn't enough to comprehend an understanding of what you "think" you're saying.

Hurting someone to do nothing but hurt.
To hear the crash, to feel the burn.
Numb out, be the hardest mother fucker you can be.
You'll find yourself in an empty shell.

Belittle, belittle, belittle.
The warmest security blanket that always leaves your feet cold.
Would you even recognize your shadow?
Is this who you thought you'd be?

It's easy to be fake.
Being real is difficult.
Especially when it involved things that tend to make it more complicated.
Or is it just a form of self sacrifice?
After all, you're putting aside your own discomfort for a moment of an illusion of peace.
So just be an artist.
Cover up the truth with some kind of story.
Or use your art to tell the truth.
The art of war is dead.
It's every man for himself these days.

Using someone's feelings.
To destroy them.
To destroy opportunity.
To destroy sanity.
All for what?
The thrill of the pain you cause?
Isn't love more rewarding?
Or is love more pungent when you realize your power?
Blood thirsty bastard.
It'll never fill the void you lust for.

Unfulfilled potential.
How can you start fresh if you don't allow yourself the opportunity?
Unsaid words can haunt more than anything you've ever said.
Don't surpress these feelings.
I don't fit in that box.
How can you know until you try?
Is it that hard to admit that you were wrong about something the world itself couldn't convince you of otherwise?
To be able to lock it out.
Like it was never there.
Oh, you never deserved my best.
It's the hardest lesson to teach.
And even harder to learn.
Ah, this universe and it's verdicts.
But everything happens for a reason, right?

I understand that I'm absolutely talking in circles.

Calm the fuck down.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
It's the best remedy we have.

Maybe I'm just bitter.
Or the only hypocrite brave enough to say something about it.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

La La La La La

I'm really about to make 30 bucks from just sitting watching videos and screwing around on facebook?!

WHY IS THIS THE BEST JOB EVER?!

Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.

No seriously, there's absolutely no work right now and all I've been doing is messing around on the computer.

But anyways.

Cooking up something new to post =] Maybe it'll be up by the end of the day, I'm certainly gunning for it.

In the meantime, here's a little window into my world for the past 2 1/2 hours.

This woman is who made me want to sing. Play guitar. Make music heard.
She makes me dissapointed in our generation and the 'music' we currently consume.

This is real.
This is Tracy Chapman. And my favorite song =]

Monday, August 17, 2009

I'm Thirty-Three For A Moment

Sooooo

Here we are.
Sitting at the kitchen table.
With a bowl of brown sugar oatmeal and some really random Sandra Bullock movie on TV.
Ari and Shane are dancing to Sealion.
And Angel, in essence, is doing what I'm doing, except on actual paper. 

Have you ever had that pins and needles feeling in your back?

Yeeeah. 
Definitely just happened.

Anyways,

here's a REALLY terribly cover of Spaceman by The Killers.



Enjoy =D

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Gypsy Care Remedies

Lights out.
Turn on the air.
Didn't you see where this was going?
Those chills are normal.
Steady your breathing.
Settle down.
Settle down.
Settle down.

Insecurities are overwhelming.
Too much. 
Trust isn't enough anymore.
All it takes is an alluring scent.
To drain the bastard's mouth dry.

But wait...
Play it back.
Lights off.
Screen on.
How can you remember something so clearly?
If it didn't mean anything?
If it didn't continue to mean anything?

Whisper life into me.
One more time.
Just one more time.
Or just make me sure.
It's all I've ever wanted.

Strum the chord.
Fast forward.
I'm exactly where I should be.
For now.

Play it back.
Wait, don't.
I'll remember just fine.
Is it that hard to mean something?
Or is it just hard to admit to being wrong when the world itself couldn't have convinced you otherwise?

Heart beats.
Skipping beats.
Skipping beats.
Double time.

Calm the fuck down.
Calm the fuck down.

How mad you can be.
Over something you don't know.
I guess I've met the maker now.

All of this.
Just to be sure.
Keep the lights off.
Can't see anything in the dark.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

First Post =] (I should really be asleep)

Basically 

I'm somewhat new to this whole blogging thing, so I'll just start with a little introduction.

My name is Cailyn Taylor. I'm a singer, songwriter, actress, soon to be nurse from Burbank, California. Yes, I have a music myspace and a facebook fan page and a twitter and all of that good stuff, but I felt like I should make a blog too specifically to be expressive and to keep in touch with everybody instead of just networking and answering the question "What are you doing?"

I'm hoping to start touring by the Spring of next year...but we'll definitely need to see how that goes.

I love to write, I equally love to read, and I love to talk about things. I'll be posting little things here and there about my opinions or just poetic rants about whatever.  I'll warn you right now I'm a little all over the place and can go on and on about light and lovely things, and can just as easily turn and write about my deepest demons.

If you'd like to get in touch with me you can do one of the following:

visit

www.myspace.com/cailyntaylormusic
www.twitter.com/cailyntaylor
www.facebook.com/pages/Cailyn-Taylor/99685180261?ref=nf

keep checking in for more posts, videos, songs, and ...um...life?

love always,
Cailyn.