Perhaps this was really the only thing I had ever wanted to say to anyone, and be told.....

Sorry for the time away from writing....

Stop thinking so much.

Take some time to figure out what’s important to you.

Step outside, look at your surroundings.

Get some air.

Remind yourself of who you are, why you're here,

And who you want to be.

Let people make you laugh.

Let people love you.

Don’t try to live up to anyone’s expectations.

Be yourself, and be okay with it.

Let go of what you can’t control,

Thank your past for its lessons,

Look to the future with open arms.

And always, always, always have faith in your own heart.

 

A Thought for Friday

“Listen to the people who love you. 

Believe that they are worth living for even when you don't believe it. 

Seek out the memories... and project them into the future. 

Be brave; 

be strong; 

take your pills. 

Exercise because it's good for you even if every step weighs a thousand pounds. 

Eat when food itself disgusts you. 

Reason with yourself when you have lost your reason.”

Today I believe...

…That it’s important to find something to always look forward to.

…That it’s a bittersweet sight to watch the October leaves falling down right in front of you. It’s almost like they've given up for the year, that they no longer have the strength to hold on, but as they slowly dance their way off the trees, you somehow know they’re okay with it. It’s comforting to know that sometimes beauty only lasts for a short while. 

…That Boston really is the best city for sports, and if you’re not a fan at all but curious about the score of the game, just go on Facebook and I’m sure 60 people will fill you in.

…That there’s really nothing more refreshing than taking a pen to a paper with endless opportunities to write your thoughts, your dreams, your fears, and to then close the book and never speak of those thoughts again if you don’t want to. You got them off your chest, and you gave life to the empty sheet of paper. Let go and let God handle the rest.

…That when someone says they love you, take what they say, appreciate their courage to say it, hold onto their words, but don’t swallow it yet. Actions speak much louder than words, and if someone really loves you, they will love all of you, every part of you, they won’t ever give up when things get tough, and they will prove it.

…That I would much rather mingle with a regular crowd full of regular, honest people who have inspiring stories to tell, people who have familiarity with real life experiences, people who might not have everything, but can give you the best advice you’ve ever heard. These are the people worth listening to.

... That it's important to never let go of the people who touch your heart. They're there for a reason. You met them for a reason: either to change their life, or for them to change yours. 

…That older people might drive slower, might speak slower, might even aggravate you at times, but these people have seen far more than you have. They know the world just a little bit better than you do. Give them a break, let them take their time. Someday, you’ll be just like them.

… That animals give you a special love that you can’t get anywhere else.

 

…That there’s a certain thrill I can only feel from seeing the Nashville skyline, and that I am so lucky that it will be in my view in just about 12 hours, surrounded by the people who love me most...

…That I need this blog way more than it needs me.

On Being Yourself...

It was Autumn, and I was a sophomore in college, living at UMass Lowell. I had homework to do, sorority projects to work on, friends to see, and beers to drink. But I’m over 18 now, I can do whatever I want, I’m a grownup, I thought. So I did what most new adults do when they have all the freedom they ever dreamed of right in the palm of their hand: I proved my age to the world.

I had my boyfriend at the time take me to get my first tattoo, and I sat through the pain like it was nothing more than a mere tickle, because adults don’t cry, I reminded myself. After the tattoo was finished and I paid the $90.00 I had been saving, we drove to my parents' house where I showed off my newfound rebellion in the form of a black Pisces sign on my left hip. “Mom, Dad, look what I did. Isn’t it great?” Surprisingly, they liked it. I didn’t know what to think. Was I secretly hoping they’d be disappointed, so I could come back with some strategic tale about how I’m old enough and can make my own decisions? Or was I happy with the fact that I just realized I had the coolest parents in the world? I couldn’t decide, but over the next four years, I got four more tattoos and proved to the world that I was myself, dressed proudly in my new ink, each tattoo symbolizing a different piece of my life.

It was Autumn again, except this time I was 26 driving home from my full-time corporate job, feeling much more like an adult than I did when I sat in that first tattoo parlor.  I picked up my cell phone, knowing I shouldn’t be using it while driving, but I can do whatever I want, I’m a grownup, I thought.

“Dad, I really want to get a new tattoo”, I boasted, thinking I’d hear “honey, you already have five, isn’t that enough?” in his typical I know you’re 26, but I’m still your father and have been around the block type of tone. And within the three seconds it took him to respond, I didn’t have time to plan out an emblematic-Holly-fashioned comeback. “Well that’s cool, sweetheart. Whatever you think is best. You’re an adult, and your mother and I know you make wise choices. However you want to express yourself is fine with us.” What?

I guess when I was a teenager, I never noticed how lucky I was. Taking the time to appreciate the freedom my parents gave me wasn’t something I really noticed, or held above other lessons they taught. But I’m a grown up now, I’m thinking, as I sit here and type this, and I have a little more experience under my belt. I can now reflect on the best lesson my parents ever taught me, even if it took hundreds of needles and permanent ink on my skin (which I will never regret) for me to learn.

So here’s a promise I can make to keep : people will always judge you. They might judge the way you dress, they might judge the friends you keep, they might judge if you’ve had one too many beers on a work night, have too much ink on your skin, or have made decisions they can’t even begin to understand.

But here’s another promise I can keep : what they think of you really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Your life is your own unique fortress to build, to break, to mess up and to live as chaotically and as colorfully as you want to. It’s your decision if you want to race through this voyage as rapidly as you can, or trail along unhurried, counting stars and grains of sand. If you want to focus on every breath you take, or want to pretend you’re not breathing at all, then do it. If you want to tattoo a f*cking novel on your skin, don’t let anybody stop you.

Today, I believe....

...that the skyline of Boston is a sight I’ll always be thrilled to see, with a drive consisting of thirty minutes, jagged streets, busy lives, and so many possibilities,

 

 … but that Nashville is still my favorite city.
 

... that every once in a while, it’s okay to turn off my cell phone and re-connect with myself.
 

... that I can relate to so many songs on the radio and sometimes find myself saying out loud, “this must have been written for me”.
 

... that my gut feeling is always right.
 

... that there’s something insanely breathtaking about the chill of Autumn mornings.
 

... that one of the most difficult lessons is to learn the balance between comfort and risk.
 

... that road trips  with no destination, next to the right person, hearing songs with captivating lyrics, is a perfect way to use all your gas.

... that my parents really know a lot about life.
 

… that I should use my singing voice to my advantage and perform in public places.
 

… that tattoos are beautiful expressions of yourself, and you don’t need to listen to people who tell you they’re a huge mistake.
 

… that everyone you meet is dealing with their own problems, so try to take it easy on them.
 

… that Sam Adams’ Octoberfest is probably the best beer ever created.
 

…that my dream will always be to write for a newspaper or magazine, live in a high rise apartment in NYC with a view of the bright lights, and go for coffee meetings while wearing high heels on busy city streets, and meet friends for drinks at wine and vodka bars.
 

… that it’s okay to have these types of dreams.
 

… that sisters are the best gift you could ever receive.
 

… And that sometimes --- maybe all the time --- I need to let go, and let God.

Hopeful Girl

Hopeful Girl

 

I don’t care what it takes, 

I’d like a faultless world,

They say that can’t exist

And I’m just a “hopeful girl”

But hopeful girls, they’ve seen the most

Their hearts have felt real pain, and

They’re the ones who sing the loudest

Under pouring acid rains

 

But I don’t care how much it burns,

I’m gonna dance on every star

I want to swallow up their fire, and

Let their flames engrave a scar

They used to seem so small, I laugh

Each tiny blazing tear, but

Now a million specks of glowing light

Are dripping starlight in my hair 

 

 

This is where I’ll live, I think

To the constellations, I’ll exclaim,

“I’ll never judge a stranger”

‘Cause up here, we shine the same… 

See, the Earth just seems too shallow now

For hopeful girls like me, and

I’d rather bathe in waves of bright red freedom

Than in a superficial sea.

Holly A. Wolti 9/13/13

 

Falling

"I get weird when the seasons change,” I said. And then I thought about those words.

I wondered why my heart both sinks and soars, simultaneously, on the first cold morning in September. It never makes sense. How can I be so eager to jump head first into a new season, full of so many unmade memories, while feeling like I just can’t let go of the one that is about to pass?

What if I didn’t give Summer enough of a chance, I worried.  Maybe I got too wrapped up in focusing on not focusing too hard, that I didn’t pay enough attention to summer’s details and hidden messages. Is it possible that I asked for too much out of one season? Maybe summer really isn’t the masterpiece we all think it is. Maybe it’s just a few months of preparation for what nothing except autumn’s fiery passion can deliver.

September is tricky month, I thought. You look back and wonder what you could have done differently, what you missed out on, and you watch an entire season close its doors before your eyes. Looking down at the city streets, I realized that soon enough, they would consume the beauty of the next season too, sweeping each leaf up, one by one. Why do the leaves look so beautiful right before they’re about to die, I marveled. Is this how everything should look on their last days? I promised myself to appreciate their elegance until they fall.

I questioned how many late nights and secrets all the summer leaves had seen…. maybe that’s why they’re always blushing red when autumn begins. This time, I wanted to keep a piece of summer with me, something that would remind me that it will be here again, just in a different form. I wanted my stories, my memories, and my nights to stay mine, without the cold air blowing them away into someone else’s yard.

I then picked up the most intricate, brittle little leaf from the ground, put it inside a book, and said, this one is just for me.

When the Seasons Begin to Change...

“When you’re young you prefer the vulgar months,

 the fullness of the seasons.

As you grow older, you learn to like the in-between times,

the months that can’t make up their minds.

Perhaps it’s a way of admitting that things

can’t ever bear the same certainty again.”

 

 

 

Sisters And The Essence of Time

But we were together again and the whole world was rejoicing…

It was Wednesday, August 7^th and I spent the entire day telling everyone how it was the “best day ever”. “Why?”, they would ask. “Well because my sister comes home tonight, obviously.” It was the same old anticipation that tiptoes up through my stomach and onto my face, landing right on my mouth where I can’t stop smiling, knowing that my best friend will soon be with me, for what always seems like way too short of a time.

It was 1:00am when I picked Jacy & Mike up from the airport. I didn’t even care that I was tired. And the drive down to Lowell and back didn’t bother me one bit, I was too busy laughing and hanging on to every word we said, because once those next 11 days passed, I wanted to remember everything, every joke, every funny story. She and I stopped for food at 2:30am, and I marveled over the fact that I’d never eaten at that place sober, but I was so glad I was because now I wouldn't forget a second of it.

Her trip home was great, as always. It was the same as every time we are all together. We drank too much. We ate too much. We shopped a lot, and we consumed a ton of coffee. We took long day trips to different states. We stayed up way too late. We laughed, we cried, we made memories and promises that I would go back to Nashville just as soon as I could, and we would figure out a way to make both of our lives better than ever before. After all, we are dreamers, and we are the best kind of dreamers around. And when two sister have a plan, they can't be stopped.

But just had I had suspected, those 11 days passed way too quickly, leaving me with the empty, too familiar question of how I would ever get through the rest of time without her here…until Christmas when we would be reunited, and I prayed, and I prayed again so hard that the time until December would fly…….but then I stopped and heard my father’s voice playing in my mind telling me, don’t ever wish your life away…. But sometimes, that’s easier said than done.

It was Sunday, August 18^th at 4:45am when I woke up to drive them back to the airport. We promised we wouldn’t cry this time, and in typical Holly fashion, I pretended I was strong. I dropped them off, I waited until they were too far in the distance to see, and then, I cried. It's becoming a secret little ritual that no one sees, except me and my mirror that reminds me of the black mascara flooding down my face. I can't wait to get home, I thought, I hope this drive flies by....

But time is a crazy thing, you know. Sometimes you beg and plead and make little pacts with God that if he can just speed the months up so that you can get to where you want to be as fast as possible, everything will make sense. And other times, you clench your fists so tight asking that he just please slow the time down so that you can relish in every detail of the night, and you ask that the time between now and tomorrow would take as long as the time between now and the next time I’d be in Nashville, what sometimes seems like forever away.

Because after all, time is the longest distance between two places….

Happy Birthday, Blog!

"And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd

'cause these words are my diary screaming out loud,

and I know that you'll use them however you want to"

 

Today marks one year since I created this little blog. I really can't believe how much success, confidence as a writer, and excitement it has brought me. When I started writing it one year ago, I thought that maybe my family and possibly a few friends would ocassionally read it, you know, to be nice and to have an answer when I would say "So, did you read my blog today?!?!?"

 

Honestly, The Cat'z Meow was developed more as an outlet for me, to share my thoughts and help me stop bottling everything up inside. I never dreamed that I would have hundreds of readers, many who I have never even met, but am so blessed to have in my life.

 

I really can't express how it feels to have someone tell me how much my poetry touched them, or how they can completely relate with the words I write. To hear someone tell me that my thoughts and my writing inspires them or moves them in any sort of way is just so gratifying. I just can't beleive that people even take the time to read the words that I write in my spare time, words that come to me in the middle of the night when I have to grab my iphone and type as fast as I can before the thoughts slip my mind.

 

So thank you, to every single one of you reading this, you have no idea how happy you make me. I love every single one of you.

 

Really.

 

 

A Sister Like Mine

I laughed and said, "life is easy."

 

(listen)

 

            She's the person who knows me inside and out. She’s the person who reads my thoughts just by the way I move my eyes, and she knows the shape my mouth takes when I’m about to tell her the best story.  She knows that when I’m silently laughing, making no noise at all, it means nothing has ever been funnier. She’s the person who has seen me at my complete worst, and who has also seen me higher than heaven. She’s covered for me more times than I can count, and she's given me the cold hard truth when I really needed it. She knows my entire life’s story, down to the detail of the time first she saw me to the exact words she spoke to me when she drove away in the U-Haul to go start her life in Tennessee. I have never been more proud of anyone, ever. She’s my best friend in the entire world, and somehow I got blessed to also call her my sister. I’m beyond excited that she’ll be home on Wednesday, and I can already feel the butterflies getting ready to take flight in my stomach. My life just makes more sense when we are together. Somehow, when I'm with her, my whole world just aligns.

 

 What I meant was, life is easy with you here, and when you leave, it will be hard again.

One day I will find the right words, And they will be simple....

"I like too many things and get all confused and hung up

 running from one falling star to another

until I drop....

 

 

 

 

......This is the night, what it does to you.

I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion."

 

-Jack Kerouac



A thought for July..

And so with the sunshine

and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees,

 just as things grow in fast movies,

I had that familiar conviction

that life was beginning over again with the summer.

 

 

Funny how a Melody sounds like a Memory

 

Have you ever been driving down a road that you know so well, while listening to the same radio station you listen to all the time, when all of a sudden you hear a particular song, and right away the hair stands up on your skin, and you find yourself blinking and gripping the steering wheel, just to make sure you’re really there and that you’re not in some other place in time—a place that gives you a feeling you can only explain by the sinking in your stomach?
 

Have you ever come across a song with words so implausible that you turn the volume to its highest level, or just set the damn song on repeat so you could listen to it over and over again? Have you ever wondered who the song was written for and why or how someone else could sing chords that descend and fall so perfectly like pieces into the place of your life?

Do you ever wonder where the songwriter lives so you could drive straight to their house and reach out your arms and thank them for writing something that clearly must have been written for you because they’ve described everything you feel, and sung it in a tone that you’ve already thought up so many times. Don’t you just want to do that sometimes?

I do.

Summertime Is Always The Best of What Might Be

“Summer, after all, is a time when wonderful things can happen to quiet people.

For those few months, you’re not required to be who everyone thinks you are...

and it gives you a courage you don’t have the rest of the year. 

You can be grateful and easy, with no eyes on you, and no past. 

Summer just opens the door and lets you out.” 

The First Day of Summer....Welcome.

Today marks the first day of Summer, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a thousand miniature butterflies ripping through my stomach right now. It just sounds luscious when it rolls off your tongue. Say it with me. Today. Is. The. First. Day. Of. Summer.
 
Maybe it’s because I love to sing, and singing in the car with your windows down on a Summer day echoes in just the right way.

Maybe it’s because there’s nothing better than wearing jean shorts and a tank top and watching the ocean waves soak up the sand through a pair of aviators. Is it because I love concerts and being barefoot in the grass, or is it because there’s nothing that smells better than a bonfire mixed with the scent of citronella candles and leftover tanning oil on your skin? Or is it the sound of your best friends laughing over a round of cold margaritas?

It’s the little slice of Heaven you see when you walk out to the end of the dock on your favorite lake where you’ve made so many memories that will always remain somewhere between the spot you’re standing on and the tall trees on the other side of the lake. It’s when you laugh and think about how far that distance seemed when you were a kid, and how now it somehow doesn’t seem so far at all.

It’s the sting of burnt skin from being under the sun all day, and you’ll complain that it hurts to move, and hurts to shower, but you’re secretly excited because you know it will turn into a tan in just a few days, and let's face it--- everyone looks better with a tan. It’s that, mixed with the feeling of crisp, clean bed sheets that you’ll fall asleep to, that can really set you up to have a night full of flawless dreams.
 
It’s somewhere in the way a hangover fades so much faster in the Summer because you know you have another warm night ahead of you and a refrigerator full of beers to drink, and really, who wants to waste a Summer night with a hangover?
 
Or is it aroma the rain leaves after it drenches the pavement on a sizzling night? Something about that scent just clears my spirit, leaving me thirsty for more.

Whatever it is, it’s perfect, and it’s Summer, and I welcome it with most open of arms.

Fancy Is A Balloon That Soars At The Wind's Will

"Surround yourself with beautiful, free spirited people.

Tie them to your heart so you never lose them.

Use plenty of string so that you don’t confuse connection with attachment.

If you choose to let go, accept that they might not return,

for a balloon with no string has a life of its own...

And who knows if the moon's a balloon,

coming out of a keen city

filled with pretty people?"

We All Fall Down, Lose Our Way

 

Sometimes life gives you way more than you think you can handle.

It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.

It’s okay to take a step back and reevaluate, it’s okay to take a mental vacation,

and it’s also okay to not do any of those things and have a complete melt down.

We all hurt, we all cry, we all bleed red.

That’s called being human.

My best advice to you is this: just breathe.

Let the sun shine on your face,

relish in the peace and quiet of a warm summer night.

Take care of yourself, put yourself first.

Get enough sleep.

Surround yourself with positive vibes and comforting people.

Remind yourself that God won’t make a mountain you can’t climb,

and that eventually,

everything will be okay.

 

Small Talk

 

"Small Talk"

 

The summer sun starts melting down

Over that busy little bar in town

Secrets filling up the air,

She wonders how the night will end

With rumors floating friend to friend,

Her skin is burning from their stare.

 

Laughs it off, it’s nothing new,

She’s used to it, and he is too,

She won’t let them know she cares

So she just keeps her shoulders tall

And she just lets her blonde hair fall

It’s better when she’s unaware.

 

Oh, she fascinates them as she moves

Through crowds of faces, old and new

Making small talk here and there,

She yells, “another round for my new friends,

We don’t even care how much we spend

See, we all have broken hearts to mend

You know that’s why we’re here.”

 

A few more shots, a few less feelings

Tonight the tequila’s doing all healing

This girl could really use a prayer.

She bites her straw, hell bent on drinking

It keeps her from doing too much thinking,

As she falls back into her chair.

 

Now it’s just about that closing time,

She walks out the door into the night,

Hanging memories on the streetlights,

But tonight she won’t go home.

She’ll end up where she’s meant to be

Or maybe where she’d rather be,

But she makes sure she’s not alone.

-Holly A. Wolti
All rights reserved, copywritten.

And For the First Time I had Something To Lose

Spinning like a girl in a brand new dress,

we had this big wide city all to ourselves

 

 

And darlin, it was good never looking down

And right there where we stood

was holy ground

Things Are Sweeter in Tennessee

Today is sunny and warm, and I am just a drive away from most of the people I love. I get to smell the scent of New England air and listen to the sounds of familiar laughs, and drive down streets that I could probably drive with my eyes closed. I get to bounce through the morning rush, and I get to hold doors for people, and be okay with the fact that most won't say thank you. I get to see MA and NH license plates everywhere I go, and feel comfortable that mine fits right in. This is my home, this is where I belong, yet I can't help but miss where I was last week.

I miss Tennessee and everything about it. I miss the clean, calm breezes and the laid back feeling. I miss the accents and the fact that people there actually care how my day is going. I miss that no one is pushing to get in front of the next person. I miss the clarity and the way my brain works while I'm there. I miss the comfort. I miss the excitement and the talent and the country music spilling out of every bar. I miss 2 for 1 beers. But most of all, I miss my sister. It's so hard being away from my best friend.

 

 

 

 

 

But I love the way I fit right in too, like I'm a Tennesee regular. Part of my heart will always be there. Nashville, can I come back soon??