a lack of color.
this is fact not fiction.Archive for two thousand and eight.
Twisting my stomach into knots.
lessons
I am learning:
that I am desperatley wide-eyed and terribly conscious, that one shouldn’t hold onto the past, that there are few people in this world that will love you for you, that when you find these people — hold onto them, that family should always come first, that the perfect place to watch the sun set in old saybrook is on the knollwood beach, that tea from paperback is always worth it, that I need more than I want, that some want more than they need, that one should appreciate every morning they wake up to.
9 days!
I will be home in 9 days, for 11 — and I cannot wait.
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
- e.e. cummings
We just made history..
Last night, I sat cross-legged on my bed, biting my fingernails to the core, waiting for the moment to come when Barack Obama would be nationally acknowledged as the next President of the United States. When he was elected, I felt hope. We made history last night. We chose change: we elected the first African-American President of the US. We made a difference for ourselves, and for our children. Yesterday was probably one of the most significant days of my life. I put my future in the hands of a man that I truly believe will change the world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thank you for helping make history.
Thank you for the miles you walked, the doors you knocked, the phones you rang, the hard-earned dollars you gave, the spirit you committed to this campaign. Thank you for never wavering, even when the days were dark, the clouds grayed the skies, and the rain poured. Thank you for tuning out the static of the cynics and believing in your power to change this country.
Thank you for all the late nights and all the far too early mornings, for trudging through the bitter cold of winter and wading through the oppressive heat of summer to canvass in your communities. Thank you for the rain-soaked jeans, the mud-caked sneakers, the sweat-drenched t-shirts, and the snow-covered scarves and hats. Thank you for your patience; thank you for your perseverance.
Be the change that you want to see in the world.
Vote, our generation is this country’s future. Countdown, thirteen days away, but thirteen days closer to a better world.
the earth constantly rotates; no matter what.
October 21: I left before the sunrise, just to get back to Keene. I am really trying to learn to love it here, but it just isn’t happening. I find myself longing for home every second I spend here. I missed Old Saybrook even before I got on the highway. I think it is my favorite place to be. I drove back home on Wednesday evening, and spent most of my time at the high school. It was the literary magazine’s cafe night for Musings.
Musings is the literary and art magazine I edited while I was as a student at OSHS. It won the NCTE award for Excellence. Cafe night is a night where all of those that are passionate about English and Art can come forward and show their work. It was a beautiful night, and it made it so much harder not to be able to be apart of it. However, it made it alot easier knowing that I helped bring Musings to where it is now.
On Friday, I took a drive to New Haven to visit my friends Chad and Lara at Southern Connecticut State University. I was thinking of transferring there, but I am not so sure anymore. Southern just doesn’t seem like the place for me. Chad and I had fun hanging out though, and it was nice to see an old friend. We drove back to Old Saybrook, and then later that night I picked up my friend Bryan Cryder and his two friends to go see State Radio at Webster.
It was an amazing show, one of the best I have ever been to. After the show, Bryan spoke with one of the opening band members named Temba, from Bongo Love. The band is originally from Zimbabwe and they are touring with SR. We got to hang out with them, after the show. They snuck us up the stairs, and we talked all night. Then, after I spoke to Mike, the drummer from SR, and Chad’s girlfriend Sybil about the Rock for Darfur concert I am helping organize. It seems like they will be coming in February to Keene. Rock for Darfur benefits will be going to Doctors without Borders, so anybody interesting in being involved, email me at carissa.kerpen@gmail.com. After the show, I talked with Johnny Sousa of 3rd left! Overall, it was the perfect night. I slept like the dead that night.
The next day, I spent time with my little sister, Taylor. I picked her up early, and we went and bought pumpkin eggnog, sourpatch, beandip, mangos, blackberries, and soda. We decided to kick back and have a movie night together, but before that, we made tye-dye shirts. They were pretty much amazing. All in all, hanging out with my little sister is one of my favorite things to do.
Saturday, Josh, Taylor and I went hiking at Devil’s Hopyard. He took us to this cliff that overlooked the whole park. It was absolutely beautiful. I love the smell of fall. Sunday, and Monday — loved the sunshine, hated the chills.
Hemingway.
“charlie, there is no future in anything. i hope you agree. that is why i like it at war. every day and every night there is a strong possibility that you will get killed and not have to write. i have to write to be happy whether i get paid for it or not. but it is a hell of a disease to be born with. i like to do it, which is even worse. that makes it from a disease into a vice. then i want to do it better than anybody has ever done it which makes it into an obsession. an obsession is terrible. hope you haven’t gotten any. that’s the only one i have left.” – ernest hemingway
carissa kerpen
