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.
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?!


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


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?

Definitely just happened.


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)


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:


keep checking in for more posts, videos, songs, and

love always,