feeling wasted

"I want to change the world, but instead I sleep" - ingrid michaelson

I dont feel like Ive done enough in my life. for my family, my friends, and most of all for me. Im not being selfish, Ive actually been too selfless these years. ive been so worried about making everyone else happy, making everyone elses days go right, that even when I thought about changing course, helping myself out, it felt so selfish that I didnt follow through. I just keep going through the motions of everyone elses days and Im tired of it.

I was just told the other day that "youve only got time to lose" and I realized something while I sat their, parted lips reading outloud over and over again, taking in the harmless words.

My life is being wasted away.

Yeah, Ill happily spend the rest of my days reading every book I can get my fingers on, eating take out, writing every moment in time I feel inspired, and showering only when I feel the need to do so. But I have bigger dreams than that now.

My life isnt being lived to the fullest, hell its not being lived at all in my family's eyes. Im nothing. Im a speck of dust in the whirlwind of society. if I was to disappear, the whirl wouldnt perish. it wouldnt even tilt the slightest bit.

If Kortnii didnt exsist, would anything be different?
well surely different in some small way, but does anyone depend on her? no.
does anyone need her around? no. not really.
the world will move on without her easily, and if anything, easier. I need to change that.

Ive been told that life is like a board game. throw your chances, see where the pieces may lay. You know what I say to that? screw that.

Life isnt a game

life isnt about winning, losing.

Life is about living.

and I havent lived a day yet.

But I will. starting today, I will. And it wont be about the money, the friends, the glitter. its about me. My life is about me. Whoever wants to join me on the way I shall enjoy their company and try my hardest to make my presence the same back, but for right now, I need to get Kortnii figured out before I help anyone else these days.

like I said once before, to hell with trying so god damn hard for everyone else. Im trying for me and those I truly love and those who truly love me.

I know I can make a difference. I will.
I want to change the world, but I havent figured out how. yet.

Xk

Ps. Im not all sorry for my ramblings, for what I have just ranted on about [and hopfully made sense about] will shed light on someone elses life, but I am in a way sorry if you spent all the time reading this post in hopes for the normal laughs and giggles I bring to the world. Another serious post, you ask? yeah yeah, Im not feeling so silly these days. get over it, we all go through phases.

Ps. Aunt, you still havent read A True Love Story, the post I emailed you about a few weeks ago. im starting to think you jsut dont read my emails. I will call you about it [again] tomorrow, dont worry.

shes demanding...something...what?

demanding, I might be at times. sure. Ill admit to it.

Im demanding more time.

more time for me to get my busy butt back online to slave away hour after hour to make another post for you.

IM DOING THIS FOR YOU!

ahem.

this blog is supposed to be fun, and boy will it be fun. I think. .. . . . . where am I?

Oh yes, Im on my second wind of the night, its 12:53am. Ive been awake since around 4am yesterday.

crazy? no.

tired? not really.

will I explain why? sure.

next post.

muhahahahah ahah ahha ha ha....ha. ugh.

Xk

PS. Aunt, youve still not read my True Love Story post. I am ashamed to be your neice [not really, I love you.] but from now on, I shall put a Ps. just for you, until you read said post. so read it. now. this is getting rediculous. end of story.

Motospoon: brainless

My first [and prolly last] motocross post:

yeah, these people are nuts. and I live amoung them.

So my sister, we call her J [long story], she races motocross.

Oh and if youre a guy, this is the time where you go, "wow really? thats hot, is she hot? or is she one of those butch girls, cause thats not hot. shes hot right?"
and this is also the point in time where I smack you in the face.
end of story.

Anyway, I myself am way too scared aware of how dangerous it is to do the motocross thing.

"But Kortnii! Horses are dangerous too!"

I know, I know, horses are dangerous too, but for some odd reason I dont feel threatened by horses nearly as much as I do by motorbikes.
so hush up.

Of all the years shes been racing, oh yeah shes good too, I never really got interested in the theory of it all. and I also never want to see a fellow racer, friend, family member[yeah there are more people I know who do this moto thing], whatever it may be, get physically destroyed on the race track.
Or worse, killed.
it happens.
And I dont want to witness it.

So while I was at home again this weekend, chewing my nails to bits and pieces thinking my sister is in bits and pieces, I got to thinking. . .

If there is one thing to be learned about motocross, or any extreme sport really, its this: When youre willing to crash, youre ready to win.

I am a thinker. yes, truly I am. I over think everything. But for my horse riding, thats actually a good thing. as there are many many many upon many things to be thinking about while upon a horses back.

with motocross, its the exact opposite.

youre only going to allow yourself to be thinking of one thing, J told me, and that is the track. "getting through the next obstacle," as she put it. not the speed, the height, the people around you, not how scared you really are in the back of your mind.
no.
you turn your brain off.
Only the brainless can ride motocross and have a chance to win.
end of story.


Xk

Ps. Yes those amazing photos are of J, my sister.

Pss. Aunt, if you are reading this, the post called "A True Love Story" is the one that I wanted YOU to read. I put off posting a new blog so my "the latest post is the one you want to read" in the email stayed true. sorry! I am impatient. you know this.

A true love story

Since the Kentucky Derby was just on, as well as the Jumper Classic, I have found the time to sit down and tell my own horse story:



The smell of fresh cut grass, hay, muddy leather boots, and two breeds of sweat swirls under my nose. My steed presses onward, to the trail we go. The sky is open, only but a few wisps of clouds are seen. The tree tops are bleeding with baby green leaves, winter is finally over. We embrace the Spring air, my horse and me.

I dont look like a cowgirl, but my heart is always itching for the ride. So what if Im a classic "indie girl" who keeps her hair tidy, her clothes clean, and loves herself a concert beneath the city rapture. So what if Im an aspiring author, so what if im an aspiring actress, so what. No one says you cant do everything and anything you heart desires, its always the other way is it not?

Well Hello, My name is Kortnii, I love horses, music, acting, drawing, writing, reading, and a whole lot of sillyness. its a pleasure to finally meet you.

I got into horses the moment I knew what one was. My Aunt, who is basically my mother to me, had pushed the idea ever so slightly onto me when I was younger than 2. she has two boys, and naturally they wanteed nothing to do with the ponies and were all about the motocycles their father loved. So, it was up to me to be her partner in the world that is horses.

So it started with the occasional leading around the arena when I was only a little sprout. Gifts were always horse related, of course, and I wouldnt complain. I loved horses. But it wasnt really until I was about 13 that I really started getting into riding.

Down the road from my aunts house, somewhere I was rarely away from growing up, was where my Aunt got to keep her new horse. I was in love with him. terrfied of him, but in love the same. but I did not ride him.
No no, he was still in training by Aunt, shes been doing this for years upon years. no. I rode a horse I came to know already, from the old barn I was lead around about as a child. His name was Stevie, the people, family friends at the time, had bought him. long story short, he was there, and was the horse I rode.

He wasnt comfortable, his knees falling about in awkward places, crooked legs, but had a good mind. Enough spunk to have fun on, but enough calm and cool to keep me safe. Stevie, the horse that started it all really. And then I moved onto my first show horse.

Boy was that scary. Finally over being green, My aunts horse Hootie, yes, Hootie was my first show steed. full name Whos My Daddy, for obvious reasons: breeders didnt know who the dad was. Anyway, he was full of himself. My aunt didnt even really want me on him half the time. but I rode proudly.

My first show, the aunt stood shaking with fear and excitment, I, too young to know better, rode Hootie and took two ribbons of 5th place out of 9. I was high with a smile a mile long.

Eventually, worse came to become the worst, Hootie was sold. Too much of a horse for us to show safely. Sorrow filled our eyes, but he was in good hands. I will never regret leaving him though, because one of the most important figures in my life came to me soon after the tears had dried upon my cheeks.

An 18 month old, Dun, Quarter horse filly stood anxiously and unknowingly waiting for our arrival in the make-shift, but nicely finshed, two stall barn/garage somewhere deep into the middle of Wisconsin. Scrapping her freshly polished hooves into the dirt, her ears cocked slighty at the sight of our car pulling into veiw. I took another glance and whispered "Thats her, thats my horse" to myself, but of course my Aunt heard. Cooke Cty Cookie was mine.

We split the cost, Aunt and I, she was $2500 of beauty in my eyes as I lead her into the trailer days after our first meet and greet. I was already bubbling with love, affection, worry, and future expectations of the pair of us in the show ring. We got her home, safe and sound of course, and the two of us, Cookie and I, went into training right away. And I loved every minute of it.

Another show under my belt, but this was Cookies first, came. She was weeks away from turning two, staggering drunk-like across the arena. We come to a halt, both of us shaking with nervousness, but our team work paid off. We won every class we walked into, at halter, and came out Grand Champions at our first show together. A show Ill never forget.

I now playfully toss her old halter onto my bed post once more, the worn purple and gold thing was all she came with, so much smaller than the one she wears today. Ill never forget the day my Cookie and I met.

Shes saved my soul in more ways than can be explained. Shes the reason I get up in the morning at times, the reason I still have dreams. She keeps me sane, even when shes driving me up a wall with her sillyness. I love her more than anything in the world, and thats the honest truth. No one could seperate us, no amount of money, no boy, no amount of stress; nothing.

Cooke Cty Cookie and I were meant to be partners in the horse world. Forever, or for as long as we both shall live.


Xk

Ps. Sure, I can be funny, sarcastic, and sometimes just rather rediculous, but the horse part of my life I dont joke around about as much. Its who I am, and who I always will be. Silly Kortnii will be back next post, for those of you who missed her.