Living in The Silence

Hello, Taepoo here.

Okay, I admit, I stole this title from something that Adryan said a while back, and I really liked it. So why not write on it?

I don’t know exactly how I became introverted, or if you can “become” that way, and don’t just pop out of the womb going “nooo, don’t look at me.” Either way, I know a large part of who I am was influenced by Adryan, since she is the one who did the most babysitting for me when I was a kid. She taught me about boys and what jerks they can be (not all), bought me food all the time (which for us is a big deal), and took me home for the majority of my high school career. Shout out to you, Adryan, if you read this in the future. You’re awesome.

Our sister on the other hand is a complete extrovert. I recently got off the phone with her, where she mentioned that she gets irrationally angry at me (sometimes) when I don’t want to hang out with her every day. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my sister dearly… but I love alone time, too. She is the girl who goes out drinking and clubbing to meet guys, I’m the one who stays indoors in my PJ’s watching anime in the dark. With ramen. I tried to explain to her in the best way possible that I don’t always want to do something on my down time, which made her jump to the conclusion that we would do something at least twice a week. I jokingly said “more like half a day,” wherein she accepted that and said we can start there. So a joke probably saved me from that for a while.

Anyway, my point is this: I’m happy I can find joy in doing nothing. I would much rather be content sitting reading a book, or just browsing the internet, or even laying down and just staring at the ceiling, than feel that unreachable itch that comes with being active. Instead of going “what should I do? I’m so bored,” I go “man this is a great day to be lazy.” I find joy in sitting in a silent room. I find even more joy in being silent myself.

In a world that never shuts up, it’s nice to know you can. Some times all your friends need is someone who can listen and make them feel comfortable – like you won’t judge them for something they feel should make them guilty. Then when they need someone to talk to… well, they have specific friends that are good at talking to them, too. Advice and consolation were never my forte. I prefer to let my emotions speak through the times when I am silent. Do you ever wish you could talk to a clone of yourself? To see what it’s like? Just a random thought.

Take heart, my fellow quieteers (like musketeers… get it?). Being silent isn’t a bad thing. I consider it a blessing.

Plus when no one is home I like to burst out into song. So there’s that.


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Saying “No” and Not Feeling Bad About It


Saying no has always been a problem for me. I feel terrible whenever I tell someone that I can’t do something because they want to know why.

Because I need some freaking me time before my head explodes.

Well you should come have “me time” with us. At the bar. During karaoke night. And you should sing. Alone. Ok, fine, with the group. Then we can head back to so and so’s house and hang out.

How about I go home and play my video games for a while (not socially) and read about your escapades on facebook in the morning? That sounds like a much better plan.

Have I mentioned that I also have social anxiety? Yeesh.

Or: Text comes in:

Friend: Hey! You wanna go for coffee or something so I can unload my problems on you?

I literally just crawled into bed after a day of work and gym and forcing myself to socialize with the entire world

Me: I think I’m gonna pass tonight. Already in bed and settled in for the night.

Friend: Ok, well we should plan something for one of these nights.

Me: Sure thing! *has no intention of doing such a thing/hoping they forget or cancel*

It has taken me a long time but I am finally to the point where I can say no and mean no. No means no! It’s not a timid no. It is a definite no with no room for wiggle. I have gotten to the point where I tell people outright that I am not the type to go out and paint the town a blurry shade of drunken red. Not even if I have the next day off.

People might read this and think that I am a boring person. That’s ok. I’m pretty sure my friends wonder how I don’t go insane from being alone all the time or just reading/writing/gaming etc. We all recharge differently, we all do that thing that we love to do even if our friends or family don’t understand.

My step dad once got upset with me because I read too much. All the other kids (six of them besides me) were outside playing or watching tv or playing with dolls/cars. He thought something was wrong with me because all I did was sit alone and read after school, at the little desk in the laundry room/entry way.

Now I’ve got a super duper vocabulary and a sweet as chocolate frogs book collection. I can hold a conversation or give a presentation without inserting the word “like” or “um” into every  sentence. I understand the value of words and phrases and can appreciate the beauty of a well formed sentence.

I can be alone and not feel bored, in a group and hold a conversation (a small group), there can be silence between me and another person and it isn’t awkward.

But in order to do all of these things I can’t be stressed out. Which means being alone.

No means no, I love you, goodnight.


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Driving Adventures!

I am a delivery driver now! This job is awesome because I do not have to deal with people and all of their stupid questions all day long. Just cool dudes who work at auto shops. It’s a don’t shoot the messenger kind of job (which is AWESOME!) so whenever there is a problem I tell them to call the store to get it fixed and I will deliver the right part if that is what is needed to help fix the situation.

Here’s what happened today.

Storytime Driving Adventures with Adryan!

So, I need to pull into traffic and will be taking a right turn, people are coming but this one car has Its turn signal on and is going about 3 miles per hour (sue me, I am exaggerating a wee bit, she was probably going 20 in a 30, for a delivery driver it’s the same darn thing). So I’m like, cool, she is totally turning.


The crazy behind the wheel seems to notice that I am rolling forward. Maybe a thought bubble appeared above my car telling her that I fully intended to pull out in front of her. Whatever the case, she speeds up just as I decide to pull out, her blinker still blinking It’s life away. I did not hit her but it was a close thing, she was all giving me that face like “How dare you try to drive here when I am clearly driving in this space, at this time”. Yes, her face really did say all of that in the two seconds I saw it as she drove by. I mouthed the word “Blinker” but that’s the best I could do at that moment.

I pull out right behind her because it was clear (ish). A block or two goes by, her signal still signaling its false signal and then the signal turns off so I give her a disgruntled two thumbs up. I swear to cookies I really did give her two thumbs up, not two middle fingers. It was two thumbs up that said, “Congratulations you idiot you found your turn signal and now it is off! Good job! Have a gold freakin’ star!”

The proper hand signs can say a lot. Facial expressions too.

Then her blinker is back on and she actually turns into a gas station. I give her another thumbs up for doing such a great job at using her turn signal correctly.

I think she pulled into a parking lot just to flip me off, because as I drove by she had on an anger face and one finger in the air. Hint: It was not her thumb.

But! I was thoroughly pissed at her and totally saw her bird coming so I did the super adult thing and gave one back to her. I also made a really ugly face. Cause that’s how I roll.

The lovely thing about being a delivery driver is that I can tell people exactly how I feel, they can’t hear me, but that’s ok, I still said it.

Thank you for tuning in!


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Back In The Swing Of Things

Hello! It’s been a couple months. Luckily for me, not quite as big as the distance between the two posts before this. Tae speaking.

I moved home from California. Relationships are a fickle thing – one day you can feel completely satisfied, and the next… well, completely dissatisfied. The ending of my relationship signaled the end of my short-lived stay in that dreaded land with no snow. I realized some “reflections” when I was packing my things, but I’ll share only a few with you tonight.

The first is so simple it seems cliche to say it: time is valuable. My reasoning behind this? Imagine a place where you are content and happy to live, yet for some reason, you don’t feel permanent. I often reflected on the realization that I had moved away from my home, my friends, and my family, and was now at the mercy of the person I had handed my life to. Someone who was not willing to do the same for me. I moved away from Montana for 11 months, and every single day left me in some sort of pain – no matter the intensity – of not seeing my family. I came back, but I didn’t feel like I was back. All I could think was, “wow, everyone changed while I was gone,” before I realized that I had changed as well.

I think a part of me felt a sense of betrayal. How could they change without me? How could they go on living like I wasn’t a part of their life anymore? Those thoughts plagued me for while, before I finally came to the conclusion that time does not revolve around me. My family had to move on without me, because I wasn’t there. I don’t know if they felt the pain of separation that I felt, if they hurt thinking about me… but I wasted a year of my life in California. There were few positive things that came of my being there. I grew up mentally quite a bit, I made friends (which I hadn’t done since grade school), and I discovered more of who I am. I know this all seems incredibly deep or cheesy, but I learned that time is unforgiving. It doesn’t wait for anyone. The thought is terrifying, if I’m going to be honest. One of my greatest fears is to be left alone, my family dead. Morbid, right? I know. It’s an enormous fear, and yet I still moved away, where I couldn’t be with them like I used to. I know now that time is nothing to be messed with, it’ll put you on your ass without a second thought. I’ve promised myself I would make the most of the time that has been given to me. (Lord of the Rings partial-quote) The experience was priceless, but every great thing has its poison.

The second is the after effect. The recovery. Finding a way to go back to the person you were when you remember being happy, without leaving behind the part of you that kept you happy while you were miserable. I let go of a lot of things in my relationship, things that I loved to do, because I felt they were making me less valuable to the person I was with. I didn’t read anymore, didn’t write, listen to the music I like, and a couple other things. Now while I did abandon those things with a heavy weight in my heart, I learned how to live without them by doing other things. I kept myself busy with work, or I picked up shows on Netflix I never would have watched. I found new ways to deal with my stress, some of those methods were unconventional and something I never would have done if I had stayed in Montana.

Now, being out of California, the routine I had gotten used to made me feel very out of place back home. I abandoned a lot of them because I could go back to my reading, writing, anime-watching self; however, I still have problems figuring a way out of the maze I made for myself in my head. Things you did for the person you were with, or learned, remind you of them every time you catch yourself thinking of the mold you formed yourself into. I picked up a love for cars, which isn’t uncommon, but something I never gave a second glance at before. For weeks after the end of that relationship, every beautiful car I saw reminded me of him. It’s difficult getting past those times. I would say “wait for the light at the end of the tunnel,” but I haven’t reached that point yet. I don’t even feel like I’m in a tunnel, but as though I’ve fallen into an empty well with no way of escape but to call for help and hope somebody hears as they pass by. Another reason I’m grateful for my family, who has helped me get back into the groove of things.

Now that I’ve thoroughly talked your ear off, I’ll apologize if any of this seems silly. Sometimes my thoughts boil inside my brain until I can’t hold them anymore. I’m sure you know what that’s like.

I’m so glad to be back home. I missed my mountains, my rainy days, my family and friends so much. I hope to get back in the swing of things soon.

Have a wonderful day, everyone.


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Long Time, No See

Hello, Taelor here! It’s been way too long since my/our last post, and quite a bit has changed. I moved to California with the boyfriend (Adryan wasn’t too happy about that, and we miss each other terribly), and now I work at another retail job – Macy’s. About a week ago I flew back to Montana to visit my family before Christmas; I would have stayed past Christmas, but seeing as how my boyfriends family down here is in my life now too, I thought it would be better for me to spend it in California. My family knows I love them, we don’t need the holidays as a reason to spend time together, or have fun with each other.

At the same time, I’m near heartbroken to be away from them for this holiday. Getting on the plane back was one of the harder things I’ve had to do in my life, and I nearly considered not even boarding.

But the month of January has now passed, albeit incredibly slow. It seems I’m just waiting for the days to end so I can be closer to my next trip home. I don’t know when that will be, but hopefully soon if not before my birthday. Adryan and I decided to try and resurrect this blog (since we haven’t written in ages) with a new type of post: letters to each other. I think it was Adryan’s idea. She always comes up with the good stuff, I’m just there to make silly faces. So if it does work out, hopefully we will make some good letters for all of you to read.

Either way, we text a lot most of the time.

Thanks for reading!

❤ Taelor

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Some Days, Most Days

As an introvert, my mood greatly depends on the setting I am in. Home: laid back, calm, collected, happy. Work: sad, uncomfortable, easily frustrated. Some days, however, it’s the opposite. When I’m home with nothing to do but stare at the dirty dishes I have no will to do, I get bored, lonely and restless (only sometimes, don’t get carried away); some days at work I get into a cheerful mood and I am determined to let no one shit on it.

I look directly into customers’ eyes with a smile that says “bitch, you ain’t ruining this sunshine. Dis sunshine is mine.” I also do as much as I can to make the day go by quickly, which may involve me running away from a register and running clothes back from the fitting room.

At the end of the day, however, I still want to be in my warm bed, playing World of Warcraft with my boyfriend and/or watching endless Netflix series. Don’t bother disagreeing – I know you do it too.

That’s all I had to say. Today was a good day, and I wanted to share.
Taepoo out!

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Something I Do When I’m Down

This is Tae, and this is a little blurb I felt like writing. Okay, it took me like two hours, but it’s not that great, so I’m calling it a blurb. When I get down in the dumps I write, usually something depressing, so beware. Although this isn’t that bad, just… weird. And poorly written. I was super into the first half, but near the end I lost interest and realized I’d ruined it anyway. So sorry about that. I hope it keeps you interested though, and if you have any comments or anything, feel free to share!

It was a somber day, dreary and bleaker than any I’d seen in my lifetime. The wind was silent as though it sat on its haunches like a tiger waiting for something to attack. Clouds hung heavy in the sky, not even a trace of blue leaking through the moisture they held. As the silence of the world around me threatened to suffocate me, the sound of rain hitting the frozen ground resounded like thunder through my vacant thoughts. My face felt numb in the cold and the drops of water felt to me like bullets.

Not every day was as cold as this one – the rain froze faster than it could fall. Sharp tips of frigid grass pointed towards the sky like a throng of soldiers. The scent of fresh morning dew and frost soared through the windless space and over the endless fields. I could not see any end. Not forests, not rivers or creeks or the sea, nor mountains or caves or cracks in the ground. All I saw was the eternity of hills and valleys blending into one, filled with daffodils and violets, sunflowers and blue bells, wheat and barley, roses and daisies; various forms of plants growing taller than thought to be normal.

The sky, however, remained bleak; disinterested in the array of volatile life growing beneath its dark edges. No sun peaked through to light up the hills before me, no wind fluttered through my hair to drift listlessly into the petals and leaves. The smell of the effervescent things around me did not even reach my cold nose. Only the sound and touch of rain made me aware that my senses still functioned, and even those caused me pain and irritation I wish I could brush away. In the back of my thoughts I recognized frustration. Why couldn’t I smell the beautiful scene around me? Why couldn’t I feel the wind, hear it as it fluttered through the foliage? Why wouldn’t the sky open like I wanted my heart to so I could experience the entirety of this beauty I was in the midst of?

My heart was still in my chest. It did not give recognition to my body that I was indeed in a land many people would call “paradise.” I instead found that I did not feel excited, nor happy, nor sorrowful – the only thing I felt was frustration. Knowing that did not even deter me into confusion.

Then before my glazed eyes, the beauty changed. Lightning stabbed at the flawless earth and split it in two, and I watched in passive wonder as flames sprouted from the newly formed crevice. In a matter of seconds, the fire ate at the fields until all that was left was charred dirt. Smoke billowed into the air, darkening the already shadowy clouds, and embers flaked across the earth as though beckoning the wind to carry it into more life to destroy.

A bout of smoke wafted in front of my eyes, concealing the land before them for brief moments. When my vision was once again open to the desolation, the land was now filled with something different: people. Soldiers. They all stood facing me, a infinite amount standing at attention, with me at the center. Uniforms of dark green and bands of black around their sleeves with a familiar windmill shape stamped on in red. The way they gazed towards me unnerved the part of my brain that functioned, and I realized what was so alarming. None of these soldiers had eyes or noses, only a smile that reminded me of the Cheshire cat. Their teeth were caked over with blackened blood, their own lips cracked and freshly bleeding. Flesh was stripped off of many of their bones, and I noticed briefly that their tissue-less skulls also had no eye sockets.

The leader of this army was standing slightly to my left with his arm tilted at an angle towards the sky, like a salute that I vaguely recognized. No sooner did my eyes land on his stance than the soldiers surrounding the two of us mimicked the same salute. Shivers travelled through my body, chilling my already frozen skin. It was at this time I noticed something else about the leader: he held a bayonet in his upraised hand. The bayonet was covered in blood. Lightning flashed once more amidst the soldiers only a few feet in front of my form, and that flash of light brought memories into my stale brain.

There had been a war, and I had been among the opposition. We started out in a marching formation, three quadrants, separated equally among the fields of flowers I had seen before. The numbers were greater than that of our enemy, and in that we took faith that we would emerge victorious. However… there were multiple bombers hidden in our flanks. From behind we heard vicious explosions and screams of terror as various parts of my comrades fell on us like the rain that fell now; more than ten enemy bombs hidden in the core of each quadrant. We were wiped out before a shot was fired.

I survived. The enemy had lit the fields on fire to scar our homeland, and surrounded me as the last living soul. A tall man had walked up to me, tall with pride – the leader I had recognized. His bayonet was out and into the air before my thoughts could catch up. There are so many things you can see when your head gets separated from your body. A clean and fresh cut can sever all of the feelings you had sensed before that fatal moment. My head did not fall for a mere few seconds, and yet I felt only frustration. The rain continued to pelt my face, as though the sky wanted my head to descend, and eventually it did.

As my eyes fluttered in the last throes of death, they stared once more at the sky. Clouds spread open to reveal a glittering sun, the army around me had dissipated and the flowers returned. When I collapsed, it did not hurt, but felt as though feathers were piled ridiculously high off the earth. The scent of a million different petals reached my senses and I heard myself laugh joyously. The pain was gone, the death was gone, and the sorrow and hatred of war was gone.

What difference does a war make when I am dead?

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