Kayley's Krazy Blog

"Even awesome thinks I'm awesome." -Me

Author: kayleyk6 (Page 1 of 2)

Open Letter to Wonder Woman

Dear Wonder Woman,

I remember the first day of 2nd grade, my teacher had us complete a “get to know you” worksheet. One of the questions on this sheet was, “What is your favorite superhero?” Back then, in those good ol’ days, I didn’t have a clue that you were a superhero. Of course I knew the usual ones, Spiderman, Iron Man, Superman, Hulk. But I strived to find one that truly meant something to me. My teacher may have thought I was insane, but I began to research other superheroes. That is when I stumbled across you.

In order to find my ideal hero, I thought of qualities I would want to possess. I would want strength, determination, flight, an awesome object, and of course, it would have to be a girl. In my young, 2nd grade mind, I didn’t think that such a hero had ever been created. Of course, I would not give up that easily. After searching and searching I finally found my hero… and her name was Wonder Woman.

You practically have every superhero’s powers combined!

Hulk has the strong-man-I-will-beat-you-up vibe, while Captain America has no true powers, but has his fancy shield, and Spider-Man is so nimble that he can effortlessly fly from one building to the other with his webs. Ya, these heroes are great and all, but you are so underestimated it’s honestly sad. You are extremely strong, you not only have one cool object, but two (lasso and invisible jet), and you can fly up in the air as if a goddess (which you are). No one truly understands the fact of how unique, and great, you truly are.

You are the ideal representation of girl power!

If anyone truly represent girl power, it’s you! No matter where you are; a busy city, an old and war ridden town, or even the island where you grew up, you aren’t afraid to show your true colors. You wear a headdress made of gold, a metal leotard, a lasso full of power, and you entire body is practically bullet proof. You never let anyone stop you, especially men, just because you are a girl. You fight better than any other superhero, you care more than any other superhero, you are better than any other superhero, and you know it! No one really gets how empowering you are to girls and women everywhere.

Your attitude is strong and it keeps you going!

Anyone can be strong, anyone can be powerful, but it won’t really get you anywhere without a good attitude. You make the best out of every situation, and you care for others the way you fight for others. Take Steve Trevor for example. The only reason you originally associated with him was because of the raging war, but as you began to fight, you learned to watch his back. You cared for him, showed him the power of the world, and when he died *spoiler alert* it was because he was dying to save you! No one knows how much your attitude contributes to your power.

As you can see, you are overall amazing and wonderful! There may be superheroes that are strong, emotional, fast, powerful, but no one can pull it off quite like you. You not only have all of the qualifications to be deemed an “appropriate superhero”, but you have even more to offer. Wonder Woman, you are inspiring and show everyone what it truly means to be a superhero. Though you may be overlooked, never stop being yourself.

Sincerely,
Kayley K

The Burning Blaze

The fire hit like a dart hits the dartboard: fast and piercing. A spring day, sunny and warm, awaited the burning blaze. The trees had become black with ash, the roof tiles smudged with despair, and the house…

it was the image of devastation.

The windows cracked and broken. The door stood ajar as billowing smoke escaped — suffocated by its own work. The walls were barely walls, yet more like stone on top of stone in an attempt to block out sadness. Looking at this home- oh what used to be such a beautiful home — I realized that everything good must come to an end.

The parents stood aside, watching as the flames destroyed everything they had ever known. They watched as their memories went up with the smoke, only to disperse once it reached the clouds. They watched as their home slowly — very slowly — disappeared. The firefighters crowded the home, the police officers too. There were ambulances, news channels, neighbors, family.

And then there was me. Standing in the open. Looking at the home. The home that used to be mine.

Flying in the Sky

So far in my short life, skiing has been an experience that keeps me going. Year after year I look forward to go skiing, and year after year skiing still holds a special place in my heart.

Imagine flying in the sky, high above the world. High above the drama, hate, and problems. High above the life that you know. This is skiing. The rush of the cold, windy air as you propel yourself down the mountain. The relaxation of the freezing snow as it hits your face. The smooth surface as your skis glide over the white ground. I can still remember when I put on my first pair of skis. When I rode the magic carpet up the bunny slope. When I practically fell down the small hill. When I first realized how much skiing would change my life.

So now whenever my parents announce that we are going skiing, I don’t just do a little happy dance. No way. Instead I jump up, and twirl around, and shout hooray… because I get to go skiing.

The Importance of Yesterday

Some may say that each and everyday is a new opportunity. That you can put yesterday behind you, and start a new life tomorrow. Well, I’m not saying that isn’t true. I’m just saying that sometimes yesterday is as important as today, or tomorrow, or as any other day of the year.

Yesterday prepares you for what you will face the next day. Yesterday symbolizes the past, and what memories you hold responsible to in the future. Yesterday was the day you turned 13. It was the day you first went to the zoo. It was the day your dog died. It was the day you first became a big sister. Yesterday is the day you became who you are. Every new day leads to more memories and ideas, but without the past, those thoughts would just vanish. There would be no past to turn to, no emotions to feel, and no yesterday to guide you.

As Annie once said, “The sun will come out tomorrow”, but as we all know, the sun must fall before it can rise. And as we all know, that bright and shining sun fell yesterday.

The Man at the Door

I am blind. The fog allows me to see barely a millimeter in front of me. I try using my hand to sweep it away, but the fog seems to be untouchable. Transparent. Just a reflection. I am stuck in a never-ending mind game. I sit down feeling defeated… wait a second. I haven’t told you how I got here! Let’s rewind…

It was a bright and sunny day. About mid-October, when I heard a loud and prominent knock on my door. I rush to the door, my dog barking and panting, to see who it is. This is when it all starts. As I swing open the door a friendly, yet unfamiliar, face greets me. There are a few moments of awkward silence, until I decided to pipe up. “How may I help you, sir.” He smirks at me for what seems like forever, then proceeds to ask if I was the owner of the house. I answer with a polite “Yes”, then fall silent once again. He seems to scan me, from my face to my toes, with a disapproving glare. Then he simply says, with no emotion, “Come with me, now. They are almost here.”

The Phantom’s Lair

Haunting

The ballroom before me: grand though gloomy, entrances me to its core… the core of despair. A huge chandelier hangs high up, threatening to fall any second. Cobwebs line the nightmarish room- reminding me of the critters that must live in this fortress of solitude. In the corner, seemingly fading into the wall, a stage appears. A dusty and old organ sits there- long and forgotten. Around the corner I go… dreading every step. As I round the sharp turn, I nearly crash into a huge, looming door. Made of mahogany wood, the door is as sturdy as the tree from which it came. I shove open the door, and I am met with a blast of warm air.

I enter into the mysterious room, curious about what I will find. In the center of the room, a foreboding coffin seizes my attention. Feeling like I’m in a trance, the coffin pulls me in. I peer inside, apprehensive. To my astonishment, a mask stares back at me. Still in a trance-like state, I reach down to pick up the peculiar mask. As I lift it, ominous music starts to play. “Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you”. The mask, hypnotizing, calls to me. I slowly place it on, and then I know. I am the Phantom.

Flight Fiasco Continued…

Finally the weight starts to move, first down to 49, then back up to 50 then- no, it can’t be! The weight stops at… 47? Everyone in the airport seemed to look to each other, thinking the exact same thing as us: how did that work? Well, we definitely weren’t complaining! We countinue are quest to reach our gate in time. Up the stairs. Around the corner. Though the hall. It seemed that the airport was just a maze, trapping us for eternity. At last we escape. But then, wait, what is that I see? Another line… even longer than the first! Just when you get through one line, it seemed you just hopped to the next.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, oh and… wait. These were the words describing what we were doing now. Waiting around in customs all day long did not seem like my ideal way of vacation, yet here we sat. By now I am pretty sure that the man scanning boarding passes at the front is actually a slug. One boarding pass (waits 10 minutes), two boarding passes (waits 10 minutes), and so on. After waiting another whopping 1 hour and 30 minutes, we finally get through customs. Oh no… now we only have 30 minutes to get to our gate!

Run… run… run… skrrrr. We come to a screeching stop next to the information booth. “We have been searching everywhere, and we still can’t find our gate”, I gasp out to the lading working the booth. “Well, let me see your boarding passes”, she responds. “Ahhh, yes. You see, you are in terminal C. In order to get to this terminal you will have to make your way down to the trains, and catch a ride there.” Are you kidding me, I silently think to myself. Nevertheless we start making are way towards the trains, ready for this whole hassle to just be over.

“The train doors are closing, the train doors are closing”, says the lady’s voice, hidden in the walls of the train. We weren’t going to make it. There was just no way. Until… we did. Though we were panting like dogs and out of breath, we had gotten on the train. Unfortunately, it wasn’t over just yet. As the clock ticked down the minutes, we all came up with a plan. My dad and I (the two fastest runners) would sprint ahead to our gate. Meanwhile, the rest of my family would jog behind us. The train doors opened, and my dad and I were off. The train had taken longer than any of us were expecting, so now we had only 5 minutes to reach our gate…

”I see it”, I excitedly cry out to my dad. “But wait, why are there tons of people waiting by the gate? Everyone should have boarded by now, right?” We jog up to the flight attendant waiting by our gate. Could it be that our old flight had left. And now a new flight was about to board? “How may I help you”, the flight attendant politely asked us. “We are supposed to be on the flight heading to Sydney. Have they already departed”, my dad responds.

Now what the lady says next seems to bring the entire world to a halting stop. No more going around the sun, spinning on its axis, or any of that. Time itself seemed to halt when those words came out of the flight attendants mouth… “The flight heading to Sydney has been delayed by 2 hours due to weather issues!”

When Morning Stole the Night

The darkness engulfs the dock
Moonlight, the only source of seeing
The waves seem to rudely mock
The seagulls overhead, just being

The whispers of the wind
Telling secrets of the ocean
I seem to be pinned
The secrets a stunning potion

The quiet air sings songs, as if to only bluff
Of what it once was
About how day made the waves tough
But all because
The ocean was more peaceful at night 

Then like a bird
Flying off and away
My vision suddenly blurred
And what just had to stay

Was that bright and shining sun
Oh, that bright and shining sun
Then the night was done
And gone to stay

 

Have you ever been somewhere in life- anywhere in the world- and just stood there and thought: this is the place. The place I will always remember. The place where I can be who I want to be. Well, for me this place was Port O’Connor on the Gulf of Mexico. So what better than to write about this beautiful beach that definitely holds a special place in my heart.

In this draft, I decided to experiment a lot with rhyming. I felt as if I could really enjoy poems with words that rhyme. The reason for this is because I felt that poems with rhyme achieved a different depth than other poems. A depth where you could both enjoy the poem, and understand the meaning behind it.

Another style I tried out in my poem was a shift, or change. At the beginning of the poem you could feel the calmness of the night and how soothing it made me feel. Yet then, near the end of the poem, you might have felt a change in the mood. This change was the fact that the bright sun came up: yet my attitude went down. This sunrise gave me a sad feeling, as if the peacefulness I had felt before had left along with the night.

 

Flight Fiasco: Part 1

“Run faster. Come on. Let’s go!” These were the words coming out of my parents mouths as we sprinted though the airport. People were merely a blur, and I’m sure they could say the same for us. But hold on- you don’t know the full story yet. Let’s start from the beginning…

“Would you mind driving a little faster”, my aunt politely tells the taxi driver. In my opinion, we were already going pretty fast. Yet sure enough, the taxi driver picks up the speed and it suddenly seems like we are flying. I look out the window: a bit difficult seeing that I was squished in-between my brother and aunt. The bright Australian sun blinds me for a few seconds until I turn away. I like to think that the sun here- in beautiful Australia– is different. But really, deep inside, I know that this sun is the exact same one as the one I look at in Austin.

The taxi finally pulled to a stop in front of the airport. My entire family jumps out of the car, and grabs the luggage packed into the trunk. My mother says “We have only 3 hours to check our bags, go though customs, and get on our flight.”

Now, you might be asking, “Where is this flight to?” Well, my aunt, my brother, my mom, my dad, my grandparents, and myself are all flying from our previous location of Brisbane to Sydney (they are both located in Australia)- that is if we ever make our flight! Keeping this in mind we rush to check in our luggage, hoping the line to be short. As we approach the line… wait no it can’t be… the line is all the way down the hall! I guess there is nothing to do but wait…

An hour passes by and we are finally at the the front of the line. We practically throw our bags on the luggage scale. We get through our first 4 bags (you can’t blame us, we have 7 people) and are scaling our 5th one. The luggage meter starts at 40… goes up 3 pounds… goes up another 4… goes up 3. The weight is now at 50 pounds and if we go one over this weight, we will have to take time to rearrange our bags so we don’t have to pay. The weight hesitates, as if stalling, understanding our dire situation. Finally the weight starts to move, first down to 49, then back up to 50 then- no, it can’t be! The weight stops at…

 

My Hero’s Journey Into Triathlons

My Hero’s Journey Into Triathlons

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