Sliding On Through

There's a lot to say, but I'm getting up early tomorrow morning, so we'll make due with short time, hey?

Did I ever mention how great of a fashion sense I have?

mawhahahahahaaaaa!! (oh look: matching socks!)

I hope you've been enjoying your Christmastime. I've listened to a lot of Handel's Messiah over the last 36 hours, and at the moment, Relient K's version of the Hallelujah Chorus is descending into my ears. Is there snow where you are? Make me a snow angel please. Or, if you prefer, a snowman will do just fine. Enjoy those frosty white flakes whilest they last, and get as much as the wear out of those wool mittens as you can. Sighhhh...summer '14 will be here before you know it, and we'll all be headdesking, wondering where all our time ran off to.

Seriously. 97% of this blog is just me reminiscing on the fact that we'll all die soon. -_-
---I promise, I don't actually spend my life thinking about this. It just happens when I'm about to go to bed (aka, the time I blog).

 My PJ shorts smell weird. They smell like the inside of my backpack. Probably because that's where I found them.

I had a lot of fun last night. I guess it was Christmas eve, but it felt more like Christmas night instead. There's a house haunted by javelina in which I and many miscellaneous family members feasted upon tamales and raisin pie. We made quite the evening, and miles of ribbon and wrapping paper were shed shiny new toys. The little cousins we pretty psyched about that part.
(Also, they tried to steal my hat and persuaded me to slide down the stairs...or maybe I persuaded them to do it with me...;)

Cute.

And then this morning I ate more food. So this Christmas, basically: food. I mean, in my family, we take our food very seriously. What self-respecting family doesn't? It's funny to me though, when I realize that people (err---stereotyping us Americans for a moment, bear with me) usually have ham and turkey for Christmas dinner.

THIS IS A SHOCKING DISCOVERY.

My Christmas dinner consists of tamales, rice, beans, tortillas, weird yummy cucumbery stuff...oooh! and the cactus salsa!! Alas, I didn't try any this morning. HowEVer, I'm beginning to loosen my hatred of guacamole, which is encouraging due to the way I've been scorned for my distaste in the green gooey goop.

Guacamole episodes aside and Christmas behind us, what are your plans for the new year? This is such a corny question, but it's only natural to ask. I'll be trying my feet out at snowboarding in the weeks soon to come. Who knows, maybe it will be the beginning of my Olympian career as a snowboardee. *snort*

...I'll just keep dreaming over here.

---And you should keep dreaming too. We're gaining a fresh start this January, so dream on! The world is what you make it, so make it great...and remember the good times.

Remember the times when we laughed, cried, and sang.
Remember how you felt when you could smell spring in the air.
Remember the strawberry ice cream at the beginning of summer.
Remember the way the leaves crunched under your feet last autumn.
And recall for me the way it felt to send that first snowball flying through the air.

Happy rest of the year!
Goodnight,
K-Minty

Adamant

I spend all my time today mixing this song. It's not much, but it was fun to create! The (sorta creepy) voice over was one of those auto-read things that some people use to read their books for them. I just plugged in my little poem-y thing and recorded it along with the rest of the song. I didn't realize just how dismal this came out until I started posting this...

...but in case you're wonderin, it's a little cold out today. :)

All video footage was taken in October 2013 on location in Flagstaff Arizona. Check it out on soundcloud as well!!

 "I'm cold.
Colder than you have ever been.
Colder than you know.
And colder still than the ice in your voice.
The same ice that burns away the heat of the moment, taking with it, the only hope of spring and all the glory of summer with his endless golden days.
And so I sleep.
Like day old snow.
Chilled, alone, and forgotten.
Too cold to breath.
Too cold to live.
And too cold to love."

More later,
K-Minty

Testing 1...2...3...

It's December 18th. All's well. My microphone works.
Kudos to my homies J and J...and whatever they were listening to. (??)

I hope this will be another ramble post, as I find those the most fun to read and the most challenging to write. Somehow there's a balance to keep between "too scatterbrained" and "too structured" that has to do with web logging.
To start, let's go ahead and have Owl City rock it out in the backtrack.

(*don't worry Owl City, I may listen to Twenty One Pilots, Death Cab for Cutie, and that weird anthem-y song by OneRepublic non-stop, BUT I STILL LOVE YOU* **sobs**)

Music is good. There really hasn't been much Christmas tunein' around here though. Not sure if I should be sad of thankful for that. :/ Also music related: my mic picked this up just for you. (kudos to J and J for sharing this...please don't sue me guys.)

It's funny how now that I'm on break I am no longer able to use the "I don't have time because I have too much homework" excuse. And yet---the wonders never cease!---

Smatters of Matters

(aka: I ramble.)

I should be reading a literary work of classic amazingness. But instead I choose to blog and listen to Kurt Schneider's latest ear candy production (now realizing that no one except my twerpy generation will ever realize how many pop songs they just crammed into three minutes...).

Oh Youtube, how I love you so. You're like a vast medium for all art forms great and small; available to all who share in the blessing of WIFI. But the best thing about you? You're free.
And I'm cheap.
So it's like we're made for each other.

Today I watched a bio on the life of CS Lewis, who a dead person I've never met before; and yet a person I care very much about. The biography was informative, accurate (enough), nicely illustrated, punctuated, and dramatized. I like to think I know a good deal about Lewis...but then again, I've never gotten around to reading much of his work. Which pretty much means I hardly know the man at all. The act of writing is pouring little pieces of yourself out, page by page, word by word. Kind of like cereal.

When I was small, I used to eat fruit loops.  Now that I am not-so-small, I don't. But there occasionally comes a day when I reflect upon the innocent times in childhood upon which I would openly devour artificially colored rings made of sugar and flour paste. Breakfast is not a necessity in my life. Like any self-respecting night owl, I have a tendency to sleep well past that over exaggerated stage in the human routine. My life is nice that way.  Nevertheless, and no matter how nice my life might be, if you are an acquaintance of mine, you've probably heard me go on egg tangents. Maybe you've heard me go on milk tangents too. Milk tangents are the ones that most commonly leave people guessing
"You eat DRY cereal? You don't dunk oreos in milk?? You don't drink cow fluids out of a biodegradable carton???" They ask, shock erupting throughout their features and evident upon their faces.
"Indeed, my fair friends," I reply in refined eloquence "For I find frothy white tastelessness not appetizing in the least." I then nod politely as only a well-cultured Kismint does, raising my glass of water (NOT milk) to my lips in one hand, whilst adjusting my bow tie with the other.

Bow ties are cool.
But fezzes are coolest.
(yus. i skipped "cooler". get over it.) 

Also, I was told that fezzes are considered some sort of military garb...? Anyone care to further enlighten me on that? (hint: wiki wiki wiki wiki wiki...)
 
I do not wear bow ties. However, I have recently acquired a fedora. Pictures of said fedora may one day be present and displayed for your view pleasure. 
Ahh! Fashion! I always go for a tacky-outfit-because-as-long-as-I-don't-care-you-probably-shouldn't-either-and-if-you-do-I'm-probably-judging-you-right-now style. Great trademark. Makes you lots of friends...
It's finally chilly out now, so I'm wearing a sweatshirt along with gym shorts as I write this in my cozy cocoon of a bedroom. It really does feel like my cocoon, and the addition of string lights have made it even cozier than before. 

Side note:
I'm kind of a sucker for lights. Like really now, lights are the real deal when it comes to Christmas decorating. They're my favorite part of decking the halls. :P

On the related topic as regards afore mentioned Holiday:
Christmas break is happening in a week. I'm still in school, so important stuff like that still counts for me. It'll be nice to have a little time without worrying about workish things due. I've actually enjoyed this school semester quite ththoroughly. I'm a little creeped to know that I'm halfway through the year. I'd rather we slow it down and tell New Years to play is cool for just a little while longer. 
 ---Sure, I'm excited about a mint-condition 2014 just around the bend, but really now, every minute ticking by is a minute from my imminent fate of grown-upness and responsibility. I lack the will to be responsiblityitized. I mean, I can't even trust myself with an entire carton of ice cream, let alone trust myself to adulthood or any such nonsense such as that. That would be unwise, to say the least. I don't want to become an integrated portion of first world social humanity yet. Let me keep my bubble, please.

O humanity! Thou reigneths with the grace of a beached manatee and the majesty of a drowning aaardvark.

People are screwy, but hey, ya gotta love 'em anyway. Besides, we made chocolate. 
Chocolate is like a rainbow: it's a promise of hope. 
*crickets*
...I try, okay??

I started pretending to play my broken guitar. You might have seen it featured in this video that I posted last month. Thanks to that vid, I and my four-stringed, freakishly-wide-necked, I-have-no-idea-what-the-cheeseballs-a-tuned-guitar-is-supposed-to-sound-like instrument were reunited again and this time we seemed to really hit off. *snort* It's not like I even know how to hold it right or something as super far fetched as that. Nonetheless, I immensely enjoy singing with my broken four stringed beauty, and maybe one day I'll give your ears a composition of yours truly serenading with an inanimate object. 

And so I give you exhibit A: I'm spending these wintry days of December doing worthwhile, but still slightly pointless flights of flurries and fancy. I still have bills to read, papers to write, problems to solve, and mistakes to make. But I have hot chocolate and mini marsh mellows, novels to nibble, all eight Potter adaptions to marathon on, and a God who loves me more than life itself. 

~to all a good night, bright morning, and lovely afternoon~
Kismint

I think.

So November closes with a whoosh and a bang. Short post tonight. (but aren't they all lately??)

photo cred. kismint plinkadink 2013

  Time to Christmasize everything. Time to break out the sweaters, because yes indeed, it's turning nippy outside in the morning. Time to think about 2013, and how it's been a weirdish sort of year. I mean that in a good way. I think. I think a lot of things. Not that it goes to show anything. But it's my way to amuse myself. I play think games. Funny because I know I'm not the only one. You think too. We all think. Because God gave us amazing thinking heads. But I think that it's important for us to think about things that actually matter. I believe it could be dangerous to fill up the think tank with garbage and waste-y stuff, couldn't it? It's damaging to our minds when we don't spend out time mentally shuffling through things that matter or things that won't last.
That's all.

Goodnight now. I go to dream.
 ---But I'll probably forget the dream, so no use in asking me about it tomorrow. (December!!)

Beautifully Shattered Messes

{A Salad Bug: (aka) random midnight word crafting, usually done when suffering from insomnia or deeply inspired by an incidental source}

   IT WAS A friendly day. With birds and bees alike, abouting their businesses and enjoying the breezy morning atmosphere. If only time might stay so loving---so free. The illusion of perfection in a single piece. But too much is twisted into gnarled messes. Beautifully shattered messes. Fractured  like a vintage mirror after a slingshot mayhap.
   Down the hall, beneath the stairs, the electric blues of an echoing past rent into sundering remains still flutters, half-alive. Half breathing. Like a beached whale still clinging to mortality. It's intriguing. A mystery, breathing each clue onto scattered pages of day-old paper. Scary, frightening, like a quickening shadow belonging to nothing but the pretend monsters that chase you at night. But there is deliciousness. Sweetness from sorrow, salvation from suffering. A pinch of cinnamon-sugar atop a slice of toast. A bank of marsh mellow drifting aimlessly in hot chocolate.
   Too much? Too little? Never enough.
   Your brain ceases to see a pattern. It fails to connect. You know these are words, phrases even, but meaningless at the same time. Maybe beautiful, but senseless too. Remember the those tears that welled in your eyeballs and wet your cheeks? Remembering hurts. Remembering stings, like a thousand hornets all merciless, all mad. But you feel.
   Your eyes close. You listen. Perhaps to nothing at all. But alive in the quietness, pitterpatters of hopeful healing--they shatter silence and end all despair of the moment. It's wild. Wild enough to release a breath of relief, enough to carry you further than you'd ever hope to go.
Can you be sad and still be bubbly? Can you be burning inside and still smile brighter than ever before? I knew someone who did. I knew someone who was. I know someone who is.

(via pinterest)

   The day is over. It's dark now. Darker than before. The electric blue beneath the stairs is brighter now. There are wings. Butterflies, bountiful in numbers, are the ghosts in the house of my imagination. They sing me to sleep, as I lay fretful in my own recollection of what will never be again. But it's okay.

   Everything will be all right.