I Am Not

I am... uhhh...

I am... What to say, what to say.

I am... not.

I am not an adult. That's seven months away.

I am not a pessimist. I've tried to keep Cloudwatching pretty upbeat. How am I doing?

I never liked sports. Other than fencing and marching band. Which deserve as much recognition as any other sport, thank you.

I am not a dancer. But I still bust some serious moves at dances.

I am not ashamed to admit I love Disney movies. Still a little awkward when I see them in theaters.

I am not a "rebel". Molly Mormon to the core.

I am not a romantic. I read Matched (among others) for the intriguing plot. Totally ignored the love triangle.

I have not been to Mexico. But I have been to Europe. Riddle me that.

I am not German. I got asked if I was in Paris. Nope, 'Merica.

I am not Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Slytherin for life.

I am not a bug killer.  I always feel so bad.

I am not a gamer. But I will still kick your trash in Mario Karts.

I am not healthy. Chocolate is a fruit. Right?

I am not a mathematician. Ugh, math is the worst.

I am not a turtle. Despite the ongoing nickname since Elementary School.

I am not as outdoorsy as I so wish I was. But I still love nature with all of my heart.

I am not a photographer. I don't like risking losing the moment for a selfie.

I am not a hipster. I used to try to be one before I learned stereotypes are nothing but lies.

I am not who you thought I was.

I am not my favorite anything. Not the places I've been or the people I've met. Not the labels that have been given to me or the way people have treated me. Those things have impacted me, but they are not me.

I'm much more than that.

I am a writer.

I am an artist.

I am a lover of life.

I am a cloud watcher.

I am Allie.

I am me.



Inspired by Patient Zero's reveal. Check it out. It's awesome.

The Symphony

The purr of the cat under my hand blends with the tap of raindrops on the window pane, soft and light before sharp lightning and crashing thunder slams into the sky. 

The crunch of red leaves in October ring out at mezzoforte until the pianissimo of November snowfall steals the melody. 

Wind shivers in the trees, the rustle harmonizing with my crescendoing heart beat as I reach for the next branch. 

Our laughter is flute trills as we run down the street, feet pounding the asphalt, sun pounding our skin. 

My heart strings are guitar strings that play loud as trombones and softer than violins. My mind is that percussionist in the back of the band room who played four extra measures after the cut off. My life is a song with peaks and valleys, harsh melody's I fumble through and beautiful movements that I want to play on repeat. 

But the hard parts still make it interesting. 

Music is the child of loud and soft, light and dark, beauty and chaos.

Each breath is a beat of the metronome. 

Each memory is a chorus. 

Each day is part of the orchestra. 

Life is the symphony. 

And we are the music. 

#different?

Let's track down the believers and call them hypocrites

Let's laugh and point, but only when their back are turned

The imperfect preaching against sin

What a joke

Isn't it obvious to them that people already are what they ever will be?

That change is unattainable?

Let's call them hypocrites when we're the ones full of irony

Running through minefields in the name of living

Walking into cages in the name of freedom

Stepping in front of trains for the feeling of security

Only realizing what we've done when the door locks and our legs are gone and the train hits

Let's call them the liars when we're painting smiles on our faces

"Rebels" fighting preacher's kids

Feminists fighting girly-girls

Hipsters fighting "the crowd"

Stereotypes fighting stereotypes

Our image means nothing

Being 'cool' or  looking 'hot' goes no further than the temperature of our skin

And if skin is what you're focused on, you'll never reach the soul

When you try too hard to fight conformity, it swallows you

When you try too hard to "be yourself", you became lost

When we're standing here, fighting so hard to become different

WE

BECOME 

THE SAME.

A Tour of my Heart

Hello and welcome! I'm so glad you all could make it today and be one of the first groups to tour Cloudwatcher's heart! If you can, please leave your shoes at the door, we don't want any dirt from outside to get in.

If you look down the hall on the left you'll see Cloudwatcher's memories. What has happened to her, how she feels about the person she used to be,  and the ways she relives her past. In this walk down memory lane you'll feel like you're stepped through a portal into the past, seeing things that are so relateable, you'll feel as if it was all about you! Be careful of the construction at the end of the hall, we're making a new installment, to be opened May 2016.

And we're walking, we're walking.

On your right is Cloudwatcher's fantastic love life! Feel free to take a quick peek. You won't be in there very long.

Please sir, the pamphlet is not a hat. But it would make a nice paper plane...

Over here is Cloudwatcher's philosophic central. Enter to witness the things Cloudwatcher has come up with in her pondering. See the puzzle pieces of your soul. Discover a glimmer of hope. Understand the things that separate humans from robots and experience what we do to feel alive.

Please be careful around the mountain of work, thank you.

We're now passing a restricted area. Please pay attention to the signs and please do not enter. We have no way of protecting you from what is in there.

How many times do I have to say no flash photography? Sigh. I don't get paid enough for this.

And finally, welcome to Optimistic Outlook. This balcony overlooks all of Cloudwatcher's heart's most spectacular views. Over there you can see the orange forests, be sure to breath in all that pumpkin spice. And over there you can see the launch pad being prepped. This look out is my personal favorite part of the tour because of the clear skies. Perfect for stargazing and cloud watching, wink wink.


Thank you for joining me on this tour. You have read my mind and seen my heart. Thank you for giving me a place to explore and create. Thank you for going with me this far without a face to the pen name.

Now it's time to take off the mask.

I'm doing it now because I don't want to find myself as just another face in the mass reveal. I don't want to be so crowded that I'll just be alone.

So, here is the real Cloudwatcher.

Hello I'm Allie.

I'm a dork who wears viking hats to Walmart to see how people react.

Who dances when there's no music just because I can.

Who went parasailing even though I am scared of heights.

Who loves clouds because I joined marching band, and clouds were the only thing that would change during the hours I spent on the field.

I'm a weirdo who went to France and got an unholy case of the hiccups in Notre Dam and was judged by French people. It took the romance out of the visit but gave me a pretty funny story to tell.

I guess that's my welcome to Paris.  

                              

Welcome to my heart blog. I look forward to the rest of the tour. 

I'll just be a minute.

Ten Easy Tips For Quick Nostalgia

1. Sit and remember the good old times, completely ignoring the bad memories about the thing. 

2. Moan and whine to some completely oblivious person about how much you miss the thing.

3. Look at old photos.

4. Read old journal entries.

5. See old friends.

6. Visit old places.

7. Put on an overly dramatic frown and pretend to sob while saying, "Noooooooo."

8. Wear one of the million stupid t-shirts you got from the thing and cry every time you look down.

9. Try to find a way to go back or to relive those memories.

10. Finally accept that you can't go back and move on to make even more wonderful memories.

Repeat.

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." Dr. Seuss

Thanks doc, I know you're right, it's just hard sometimes.