God's Flashlight

Teenagers.

In 10 hours and 42 minutes I'll be a college girl.

New school, new blog, new Phyllis.
Sorry, this is the last post. I'm ready now to give Phyllis up. So if you care, listen up. This is it.


I'm going to college. And I know I'm not ready to go. UVU looks like a dungeon.
Never mind, I don't wanna go. I'm not ready for this.
Just take me back.
I just want to continue to spend my time thinking. Laying on my bed, watching the stars spin from my ceiling. Lay on my bed and look for shapes and figures splattered in the stucco on my ceiling. That kind of lazy stuff.

I wanna lie in my field where I used to sleep on the old summer nights.
Where there were no girls, no boys, no moms, no wild animal cats trying to eat me. Just me and God and the moon.
Walking onto that field during those warm nights was like stepping through some sort of barrier into a perfect world of immortality and lovely innocence.
I'd talk to God there, out loud. And I'd talk to the moon too. But I talked to the moon like God was somewhere buried in it's swiss-cheese craters.
No worry, no curfew, just summer in a field with God.

Sometimes I think, just take me back.

Lots of times, I wonder how many times I have been the happiest person in the world.
I think about a wall in heaven with all the records of who was the happiest person on the entire Earth at what exact time. Pure, true, and perfect happiness only.
It's nice to say that I think I've been on there more than 5 times at least.
Lots of Anne of Green Gables and real love stuff.
I wonder if there have been or will be times when I dominate a BIG chunk of the chart.
"Phyllis."
"Phyllis."
"Phyllis."

I like to think there's lots of spurts of love on the Happy Chart that says "Phyllis Sloan and The Cardinal". Yes, I think we've made the chart many of seconds.

But you wouldn't understand.

It's okay.

Nobody gets it.
K, I wrote this recently and I wrote it for me. I just thought I'd end my last post with something I wrote completely for me, but I'll share it with you. When I first started writing this, I was crying. I was furious and I was crying.
I don't care if it all doesn't really make sense or go together well. Just give me a break, k? This is my last post so just shut up(: If you don't want to hear love and God in the same sentence. Or if you start thinking "oh my gosh, really? I already went to church today." I don't really care too much.
Don't read it, don't listen, don't care. Just go away. Cuz this is my last post. I can do whatever I want. I'm goin to college tomorrow.

3:47 pm:

I'm sorry if that was weird. But that is my last post.

That's all.
See ya Paris.

Love, Phyllis

GREAT BODIES

Sometimes I obsessively, stupidly call my voicemail to feel my heart pump when I hear his voice on the other end saying "..and I love you too"
To hear the messages he left to tell me it's raining outside.

On average, I've listened to those messages... 23 times.

I'm sketching pictures of us.

I'm writing songs about us.

Positive now? I feel inspiration coming to me through him. 

or the lack of..

It's late.
What? No it's not.

I've been really trying to write about something other than him, but the only alternative I could think of was writing about Christmas or the end of Phyllis. I can't get excited for Christmas yet. And just because Dick Tidrow left on Wednesday, doesn't mean I'm ready to throw Phyllis away.

It's weird to think that a new creative writing class will be posting away soon.

It's been fun.

-Phyllis

Winter Posts, never posted

I never stress but when I do stress I stress about becoming.

and I don't know much about you, but I do know about me.
               And, God, you know that every minute I'm trying everything I can to hold the tears in my eyes. Where they belong.

Because I'm so nervous.         But I'm just scared about letting you down. I'm always scared about letting you down, God.

            And I believe in Karma, God. I believe that if I sleep before I pray tonight, someone will ask me on a date tomorrow. and I don't want to go on a date.           I don't want to believe in raw superstition, but I do.

I never really stress, but when I do stress, I stress about "becoming". I worry that someday somebody might tell me about reality.                                 That, someday, someone will shatter this dream-world I live in.

and, God, this is all that I have.

I never speak for fear that the silence in here is the only pressure keeping the one-way mirrors formed in this box around me from caving in.

and I've realized that these mirrors face me.
That everyone else can look into the mirror and see me somewhere in their reflection, but, when I look up I don't see anybody, I only see me.

Snails.

Right now, you and I, we're kinda the world.

And you're not even here next to me.
I know right now you're sleeping in your bed, but I'm wondering if you can feel me too.
I wonder if you can still hear me laughing at the jokes you made hours ago or if you can still feel the pulling of my arm linked to yours. Making you follow me through every creek and trail, under every bridge and tree.

You chased me around the neighborhood, to New York and back again.

I know I'll miss teasing you.
You teasing me.

I know you have to leave me. So you can chase me, catch me, and keep me for good this time. That's what I'd like.

So we can have a sleepover every night and talk till we can't keep our eyes open any longer.
So I can finally run with you in the rain and forget the rest of the world ever existed. So we could huddle up in piles of blankets like you know I love to and fall asleep watching the lightning.

So we can wear matching ugly holiday outfits to every family Christmas party.

So Em and I could go shopping for a pretty white dress. Spending hours trying on all the dresses we see. Trying to find the perfect one.
So you and I could watch The Princess Diaries and drink hot chocolate, with our hair still wet from the pouring rain.
So we won't have to say good night ever again.

SHINING

"If you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely." -Roald Dahl

Hatred and Butterflies,

I used to think it was all about butterflies and finding wings. I thought it was all about escaping where I am. I thought there was no way I could make anything better. I thought I was stuck there in the mud and my wings were the only way out.

Now, I can't imagine how I was so content with loneliness. And all those lies.
Because, none of it, was even worth the risk.

I didn't know that I could be happy now. Even as teenager... whaaaa? Yeah.

I was in love with the moon and it seemed so romantic, but I didn't know the sun was always up and it never stops shining.
I want to scream that 'never' from the top of any building in New York City. But Empire State is too expensive and I'm practically broke.

But I don't regret it, nope. Because, thank you to everyone, I was lead to where I am now. And I am so happy. I didn't think it was quite possible.

I'm just here to tell you.. I hated that.

I hated how I was loved more when I was beautiful and everything had to be beautiful.
I love playing dress up. But I don't like to "dress up" to please you. I like vampires and gypsies and brides and neon '80's make-up. But I don't think you ever got it.
I never wanted to wear a certain thing to please you. I hated when you'd pull out my hair to the way you liked it. I just wanted to be loved looking the way I love to look.

You wouldn't know because you never could listen. You always sat me down and had me listen to your new song.

And you never touched my back, ever.

I'm sorry if this is immature. Sorry if I shouldn't be doing this. Sorry, I know I shouldn't be doing this. But I wanted to write worse.

I wrote "Sunlit Eyes" for the moon. Yes, it was like my Letter-I-Would-Give-To-Him-If-We-Ever-Did-Stop-Quietly-Being-In-Love-After-All-These-Years.

Yes, I could manipulate and mold you like jello (jello? it sounded right) If I was getting sick of you, I could say something like, "Hey, so ya know how people take breaks?? ...We should take one of those." A week or two. Then I'd be regenerated to go another month.

But I thought all of that was normal, because I'd never know if it wasn't.
You still think all of that was normal.
I was waiting for you to go on a mission and change. Then, I thought, you'd be perfect and worth it. But I sat on my porch one night and talked to someone, telling them that all of that is great and all, but I'm sick of just waiting around for you to change.

I can't imagine how I thought any of that was right.
Just tell me when you've figured out how wrong it was.


I was in love with the moon and it seemed so romantic, but I didn't know the sun was always up and it never stops shining. Nobody told me that.

                          That was weird for me, that was different.

Here's an answer

I don't know you real well but I wouldn't mind knowing you better.
I wouldn't mind knowing you for the rest of my life. No big deal.

Huge deal.
You're different. You're the kind of girl that walks down the street and people would be wondering, looking out the windows, what your favorite soda is and if you think Audrey Hepburn was really that great of an actress.
They wonder if you write the rhyming kind of poetry and if your favorite kind of chocolate is dark.

I wonder how I could be invited to llama parties like you do and why you've perfected vibrato at only age 15.
It shouldn't be done but you're the kind of girl that could do "impossible".
And look good at the same time.

I love you and Man. And I love that you two are in Junior High. I love that you two love boys.

You make me so curious to know who you are in love with, I even pull off my shyness for a second to ask you. And that's a big deal.
I tried to ask while I ate pancakes, but you didn't hear me, but I'll probably try again later.

I know it's late, but here's an answer if you'll still take it,
I love you.

For Dani Mostly

Do you remember when there were no boys?

We were in love with boys we didn't talk to

In love with boys who really were kinda mean

But we were in love. and obsessed. and it was fun.

Remember when it wasn't serious.

Remember when everyone asked us if we were drunk?

How we weren't scared to sing. How I wasn't scared of you.

Remember how we loved Coleman first, before he was popular. And do you remember when I'd sit on top of the refrigerator to write you letters.

Remember how we invented summer?

Remember how we'd run around in rainstorms.

Back when rain was warm.
And running wasn't just for athletes.


We went running down the summertime streets wearing Lone Peak choir robes, running at night, because we love to feel like Harry Potter, but we don't have to be Harry Potter. Remember that?

Remember when we both forgot how to eat?

When we were so skinny- wait, we still are skinny.

But remember how if I thought I was fat for two seconds you would've slapped me and told me to say ten good things about myself.

toes, cheekbones, calluses on my feet, cheekbones, "nice butt", cheekbones, freckles on my lips, cheekbones, my man voice, cheekbones, "no, it's just naturally sexy", cheekbones, cheekbones, cheekbones

Remember when it was all simple.

when being called 'princess' was all I needed to get me excited.

Remember when nobody called us whores. or sluts. Remember when nobody meant it.

Remember how I was never scared.

Our friends would give me things to say to you that they were too scared to say themselves,

because I could say anything and you'd agree, because you loved me that much more.

You still make me laugh because you love to rip people's head's off.

Remember when we were free?

When nobody would worry about what I was doing when I'd sneak out the windows.

Everything was a movie.
But only sometimes I'm sad real life had to happen.

The summers ended and slowly, I ate lunch alone. Behind the trailers in my cement wonderland.

Remember me?

Remember when I loved you.

I will always love you.

Snails, forever

"I can't see how anyone could do anything without having a best friend."

I wrote this Wednesday. But I'm like, so happy still.

On days like this I think I could make it alone.

Like, forever. I think I could be pleased with only one-class friends or Hallway-friends or texting friends.
On days like this I convince myself I could be perfectly happy spending my alone time alone, like it's meant to be.

Then maybe everything could be in order. I could spend my sleeping time asleep and my daytime awake and I could spend my class time listening and my church time praying.

But, no, I waste my sleep time for painting and my class time for sleeping and my day time dreaming and I use my bedside for praying..

No, I use school-time for praying and social time for praying and my home time for praying, yeah mostly family time for praying and I spend my night-times lying awake...  but mostly lying...


On days like this I think it could make sense to live and have order. But tomorrow, it won't. Tomorrow I'll have the same decisions to worry about that I'll push aside today. and I'll take my own freakin time, although I know I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't be saving decision times for night-times but I've been sleeping as I walk through the halls, so what the heck is the difference anyways? Everything changes in seconds. Just in one look or one class or one sleepless dream. I know, I used to joke I'm bipolar but my friend always said nope, he didn't think so. But now he's got it a little bit and I feel bad that I've rubbed it on to people. Sad, but not surprised. but that's the saddest part of it all. Happy, sad, happy, sad. He said people can notice. I feel bad but I know I shouldn't cuz it's really not my fault, right? But I knew, in time, I'd make his life harder than it needs to be. You shouldn't feel bad..... I don't. Liar... That's why I tried to stop it in the first place. But I won't.    But I know I probably should...

I know I should be doing a lot of things that I'm not, but today I feel like I could do that forever. I don't want to think about the next day or the day after that. Today I'll just forget there's even problems. I don't need to worry.. until I have to. But I know I should worry now.
But I've got to forget everything for now, before happy wears off me.
Because, Tomorrow, I'll feel different.

blue bones

I don't listen to music, but it's nice to know there still is some.

"lousy heart"

you offend me so

"lousy heart"

there was nothing I loved more than listening to it

wondering if you're scared

or if you're just breathing

or if you're only cold from this winter's hard beating

"lousy heart"

I loved feeling it's beat

on my cold tipped ears

because it was proof that you were actually real

that you were human

that you are human

cry, you're still human

oh.. how i hope youll trust me someday

US

"They'll make a statue of us, and put it on a mountain top. And the tourists will come and stare at us."

They'll name an airport after us. And we'll give every lover a discounted ticket to fly.
Because I won't have forgotten every plane ride where I wished you were in the seat beside me. 

The world will have pictures of us. They'll put pictures of us on young girl's fashion blogs. and Tumbler and we heart it and visualize us.

And they'll write songs about us, because we're merely but a myth to the kids with their ukuleles and guitars.

They'll make calendars themed with Us. You and me. But with a picture-a-day, because 12 pictures of me and you just wasn't enough for society, babe.

And the year we get married, our names will become the most popular boy and girl baby names of the year.

And the years we sail the seas, the oceanic creatures will all go wild and each have creature babies. No one will know why, science will never explain it, just "Love".

And, darling, each time we have a baby, the amount of Yellowstone Parks passes sold is tripled. Yes, every time.

And that day we die together, each 15 year old girl and every 16 year old boy in the world will receive a daisy from nobody in particular. But they'll wonder if it was because of Us.

a predicted 1 to 3" of winter

I love that monumental moment when we're walking home from school and we're screaming and squealing, cheering and all tearing up,  because the sun is so hot, we can't feel our legs we squeezed into the tubes of our jeans that morning. They're all tingly and sleepy. We all run home, shave our legs with a purpose this time and we change into our shortest shorts. We walk around the neighborhood with nothing to do, but just to show the world that, yeah, we can walk around the neighborhood in our exercise shorts. And, yeah, in our bare feet.

Now I'm wearing my swim suit under my Sunday dresses.   I haven't taken it off in weeks.

Swimming replaces showers, chlorine and lake water replace my shampoo.

I haven't seen jeans in months, heck, I haven't seen a bra in weeks.    Swim suits act as everything now.

I'm not picky about the music I listen to during the summer, as long as there's lots of music to listen to.

                        I miss the crickets. I even miss the mosquitos. I miss having something to resist. Something not to itch. Something to avoid and something that gave me a challenge. 

I miss cars with roof windows. I miss when only the best friends got their own cup in our family's kitchen. I miss house guests. I miss our Arizona house guests the best. I miss taking them up the canyon to show off our trees.

But, most of all, I miss the sun. How it would warm my hair.  I spend all spring with my hand on my head, feeling for summer. You can go around all April, touching everybody's hair, waiting for summer to happen.

But this summer's gonna be different. Exciting, and so different. We're already buying maps of the South of France and I'm making a numbered list of who's farewells to hit first if they're all on the same Sunday.     Because, just as it happens to be, just about every one of my friends all have 9 o'clock church.  I don't know, God planned it all so we could all text at convenient times and our mom's won't even get too mad.

And, if everyone who even loves me leaves in this mass substance of teenage righteousness and adrenaline, then who will be left to love me?

You can't fuel freaking love purely on over priced postage stamps and electronic mail, trust me. Especially if it feels like they're not reaching anyone.  Like everything you've ever said has been last with the mexicans who search through your letters for anything at all that is valuable..   or they're lost out in space somewhere.. between a prayer to God and the internet. But, really, we're just trying to be positive here. When you know you're not the only one left in this world, but it still feels like you're talking to no one. 

Maybe, if there's no one left to love me, I'll have to learn how to like myself.

how

Sunlit Eyes

If you would've just gotten to know me, you could've known that I love yellow peppers.

You could've known that I only think there's 2 kinds of people in this world. Those who like Tim Burton, and those who don't.

If you ever would have asked me what age I stopped wetting the bed, I would've honestly told you it was ten.

But you never really asked...

You told me my eyes were sunlit, but you never asked me how I saw you through them.. What I saw, when I'd see "us" through them. I would've told you that, through my sunlit eyes, I did see us. I saw swangirls, with clean white hats and fish-print dresses. I saw dark trees with painted, tree houses and I saw floating islands and free sweaters.. I might have told you I saw us skinny dipping in lakes and I saw our barefeet walking on pavement that burnt us.. but you never really asked. I always wanted you to ask.

And, if you ever had bothered to ask me if I'd rather have kaleidoscope eyes or kaleidoscope ears, I could have honestly told you that I'd take the kaleidoscope ears anyday. Cuz as I lay in my field like I do every summertime, I can already see the stars collide with the leaves on the trees. And, these sunlit eyes can already see the color that lives on those planets beyond..

And, if you ever cared to wonder what goes on in my sunfilled mind you probably would have known that I don't see shooting stars. I see the Gods fighting, and having wars. And I see those burning handfulls of gas as hate-mail... and ransom notes.. and "get-well-cards" and wedding invitations and junkmail... and Love Letters.

But the Love Notes are those stars you seldom see. The ones that are so burning with the sun, the ones that are kind of blueish at the end of their flight... The ones that fade the fastest, those ones you almost always miss.

I always imagined us lying in that field watching the Gods and Goddesses licking their envelopes and pressing on their postage stamps.. and I hoped a letter would fall a mile from where we lay. and that we'd walk the whole way together, and that we'd never run out of things to say. But you never even heard me, because while your ears were plugged with the worlds headphones, me and the sun were screaming at you. to look up... To look at me.

(Brynn Hallsted)