"Farewell, I Miss You. I'm Sick of These Goodbyes."

Yoyoyiggityyo, it's blogging time. I almost forgot again. My best friend, Jenni says it takes thirty days to form a habit. Let's see if I can blog habitually or if I'm just too fickle for commitment, once again.

So, today, I accomplished something huge for little ol' me. I walked two miles just singing Mayday Parade (I even made a playlist) and doing my best to clear my head. I do not exercise. I am so out of shape, it's just a tad pathetic. (Praise the Lord for this metabolism of gold, right?) Fact is, I'm lazy, and I felt very accomplished. (I would have gone further, but the sound of vicious animals in the corn fields terrified me into walking home.)

To the feels and to the point: I started walking to clear my head of the thoughts I've been having for the past few days. I had Mayday Parade on shuffle and that alone is a sign that I was having an issue. I needed to think of the aforementioned skater boy's apology, my closure, and the fresh lashing out I'd just gotten from his ex-girlfriend. (Admittedly, I had a petty argumentative moment with her and I feel terrible about it. I know she's hurt.) I felt trapped with my thoughts in my bedroom, and I was trapped under wide sky with those same thoughts. I didn't really feel any different.

How could I have had an argument with another girl about a guy that wasn't worth the hurt? How could I suddenly decide I missed him after a year? Why were these people just now deciding they had a beef with the past and popping unexpectedly out of the woodwork? I was honestly confused. Truth is, I still am.

I have a thousand questions. And I always will. And while I'm okay and  very very happy with my life, I would still like to sit down with Skater Boy and hash things out once and for all. Ask my "whys" and release every burden of a question I've acquired in the past two weeks and then see how I felt afterward. I'd love to know if he was ever bored with Haley and I. I'd love to know if he ever thinks of me or if he ever misses hanging out. And those are just the small ones.

The lesson I learned tonight is: It doesn't matter how much closure you get, you (Okay, I) will always have questions. I will never be able to clear my head because there are always too many thoughts swimming around in that big head of mine. Also, walking is relaxing and I'd like to make a routine of it.

This is me saying, I hope Coach Fowler is actually reading my blog, thanks to anyone that is entertained by my thoughts and rant-like posts, and shout out to Otto who's not "cool" quite yet.

Cayla xx

Find Your Own Voice

Today, after I got back from a long car ride home from Bandera, I was ecstatic at the realization that I could freely headbang and belt  out some Paramore without being giggled at by my friends. I fully intended to do so. I got some dishwater going to start washing up the dishes no one had gotten to while I was gone and I started singing Popping Champagne by All Time Low shamelessly (heheh, "Shameless" is another All Time Low reference), but something was different about the way I was singing. I noticed I had transitioned between screeching terribly (a sad addition to me singing along with Hayley Williams) to singing almost childlike and innocently. I liked the voice of innocence better.

I'm not going to lie, guys. I really want to make music. I want to make it terribly. I want to write a song and just have one person listening say "They understand me. They know what I've been going through." I want to help mend broken hearts because there are too many breakers and thieves in this world. I want relatablility so I know that I'm not alone. There's a song I want the world to hear, but it's so difficult to manifest that I give up on it time and time again.

So one of my smaller hopes is to find my own voice. That way, I can live out one of my many dreams. I want to make pop-punk music. I want to make acoustic songs. I live for hearing them and singing them and writing them. I have a song in my heart and I want the world to hear it and relate.

(Maybe some vocal lessons are in order first, though. Cough cough)

Well, this is me saying to find your own voice. Over and out.
Cayla xx

Awkward Drawn Out Introduction, Anyone?

So, I'm Cayla Clack and this is my blog. I guess I should just say a bit about myself before I really dive into the depths of this emotional ocean we call blogging.

I'm seventeen, I have green eyes (which I'm super proud of, mind you), I am a Gemini and believe zodiac has a bit of validity. I love making people laugh. If I say something, and you crack a smile, victory has been won. I love it.

Paramore has been my favorite band for the past five years, and they inspire me, make me happy, and make me want to headbang every day.

I think a lot. I talk a lot. I'm shy, yet outgoing. I'm mature, yet immature (I mean, I still make poop jokes, guys). I'm overly confident, yet extremely insecure. I contradict almost everything.

I dream of being able to attend Texas State University. (Did I mention I'm from Austin, Texas?) As it stands, I want to attend State, major in Political Science, English, or History, and become a teacher. I feel like the next generation should have something more to offer than mine, and I want to help with that. I want to give some uncool kid like me hope, and help them figure out what they want to do in their lives.

I'll leave this blog on a semi-embarrassing note (although I'm not easily embarrassed). I have so many dreams in life. I want to be a teacher, I want to be a guitarist, I want to get singing lessons and be a badass pop-punk frontwoman (I practice headbanging in my bedroom, shh), I want to be an actress, I want to meet Avan Jogia, and Hayley, Zac, and Josh from Paramore. I want to do something great because like Neil Young says, "It's better to burn out than to fade away." I want to be great. I want to be known for doing great things and I want to be able to say, "I helped someone. I helped lots of someones."

Over and out,
Cayla