Live A Little

All you talk about are the movies you've seen

The books you've read

The fandoms you're part off

You spend all day on Netflix finding the popular TV shows

Fan fictions

Tumblr posts

Just so you can join the conversation

I love all that stuff too

But

Where our time goes

Our hearts go

You can tell me a million random facts about a million random books

But you can't tell me five things you've done last summer that you will remember

That you can tell your children you did and they'll listen with wide eyes and say,

"I want to live like that too."

Where are the memories going?



We joke about how we spent all weekend staring at a screen

But we know it hurts

But we also know that all our friends did it too

And we'd rather watch Sherlock for seven hours straight and get a headache

Than go do something we've always wanted to do and be behind on the TV show that we hardly care about

A reader lives a thousand lives

Unless they've forgotten to live their own

Then they never lived at all



Good lives are filled with books

Great lives are filled with memories

But

The greatest lives have both.

Five Months Left Guys

I remember on April fools day telling my Kindergarten teacher an elephant was going to step on the school, then being told, "April Fools is for recess."

I remember moving to Georgia and then having my parents called in to talk to the principal because I said "crap" (It's like a swear word there or something...).

I remember believing I had a pet dragon when I came back and everyone either pretending they believed in it too or taunting me to no end. 

I remember my tigers obsession, my pirate obsession, my Webkinz obsession...

I remember dancing all the way home on my last day of sixth grade shouting for joy.

I remember going to middle school and having teachers who taught me so much. Just not a lot about what I signed up for.

I remember flipping my bike and breaking my arm while riding it down my driveway, then explaining what happened twelve times a day.

I remember kind of thinking a guy was cute for about half a day, then the girl who liked him finding out and trying to ruin my life through Facebook.

I remember once in seventh grade wanting middle school to last forever because all the TV shows made it seem like the time of your life. 

And I remember wanting to get out of that baby prison so badly every single day of ninth grade.

I remember my first marching band tour. I was included in something. Then I got excited that I got included in something. Then I got too excited. Then I felt ignored the rest of the tour.

I remember my first time driving. I ran a stop sign. Then I got yelled at for running a stop sign.

I remember my first date. We washed the windshields of the cars outside the temple. We joked around about when the cops would show up. My date guessed 11:45 am. Guess when the cops kicked us out.

I remember watching fireworks with a group of friends. One of the guys sat too close for comfort while my crush was three people over.

I remember not being asked to Prom, but having just as much fun running around in the rain that night with friends who didn't get asked either.

I remember too much drama. Too much growing older and not enough growing up. I remember a lot of friendships made and a lot of friendships broken. I remember learning a lot about trigonometry and learning even more about myself. 

I remember many days I had waited my whole life for that are not much more than memories now.

Senior year is half way done. Another milestone is dead center in my windshield and about to flash by until all I have left is glances in the rear view mirror. 

Five months left until graduation.

Five months left to be a kid.

Five months left until high school is just a memory.

A gift for Patient Zero

I illuatrated some of my favorite lines from your blog. Hope you like it!

I stole some words and called them mine

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.