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Kept Close A collection of work from January to March 2013

By KC Orcutt

Writer’s Statement In an effort towards preservation, I have put together a digital zine compilation showcasing my most recent writing. If you follow my personal blog - - you may have already read majority of what I’m presenting here. Regardless, as always, a genuine thank you for taking the time to read my writing. Onward.

All words and photos © 2013 KC Orcutt

Say your words with conviction.

I’m working on something again. cut and paste and print on paper to make people deal with the material if it’s front of them, they will see it sometimes you have to put it there for them out of necessity out of desire, drive and passion out of no one else doing it

year of inevitable change potential is a fire that has yet to catch a flame. but it could. the possibility of potential is there. even when bottled, sealed and pushed to sea temporarily. fuel, heat, oxygen. i’m gathering my elements. anticipating a spark. it’s about to go down.

there’s so much more to me you’ve yet to see.

start this is the start of something i can feel it deep in my bones and not just because my horoscope confirmed what the optimist in me had hoped it would in that vague, eloquent way that horoscopes typically do but because i can feel it and i believe in potential of the days that lie ahead.

i’m a morning person for a reason natural light is a beautiful and important thing and sometimes i attribute it to my happiness. leaking in through my windows, i can’t even fight against it, regardless of how much i wish i lived in a cave sometimes. patterns on my off-color white walls intersect with a small rainbow tinge because of my speciality glass windows. i look forward to it, even on sundays, the most sacred and lazy of days. i got enough rest. i should begin my day. i went to bed with a smile on my face and when i woke up it was still there. i refuse to believe that some people take life, friendship, love, their blessings, their struggles, for granted in the slightest. even when i’m not particularly pleased, at the very core, i know happiness is within me. all i can do is try to share that optimistic energy with the world, even if sometimes it’s solely a disguised selfish reminder to myself and for myself. when the clouds shift, so does the light show on my wall and to me, it’s just as much a reminder of faith as vines growing against a brick wall. look around you.

We can all relate to Winter.

i want to wake up out of Winter. (enough already) i want to look out the window in the morning, first thing, and see the color green, alive and well living all around me. my mind is consumed with thoughts of the upcoming awakening of spring but we’ve still got months to go. months of this to go. months. i’ve been living inside of my head (again) and doing everything i possibly can to not let the weather be an excuse for doing nothing unless, of course,

nothing is what i want to be doing.

captive vs. captivated held like a chain yet to be rusted by rain securely wrapped around your foot after all these years you don’t even notice it anymore but it’s there it’s not holding you back until you notice it and realize you don’t want to fight against it held captive, held safe like time isn’t moving all that quickly because you’re not moving with it but hibernation is meant to be temporary  don’t get too comfortable  you curse aloud  maybe the grip must tighten before it loosens you can’t be set free not until you’ve learned something

order me to bed, i’ve got nothing you talk to hear your voice when you can’t write your creative drive is your choice your hands are dipped in now-dried paint a comfortable new skin you pick at casually i see bags under my eyes they remind me to lose my ego what if i picked up a pen and forgot what it is i had to do next

Even when your blessing feels like a curse, you must not question your s e l f w o r t h .

burning ants alive like playing god without god never said i’m proud

all i know indifference is my biggest fear besides drowning, knives and losing my writing in a fire. is this all i have? a precarious blend of mutterings and ramblings and mistakes and flaws and words and backspaces and torn pages and nostalgic times and rhymes and how we all used to joke my life is like a movie except being a writer is like being half stupid, half stubborn. i’m just gonna RUN WITH IT now that I’VE FOUND IT. i don’t have time to QUESTION my CALLING. IT will WORK FOR ME because I WILL WORK FOR IT TOO.

when potential dies (the saddest death of them all) it could have been so

{ moments of appreciation } i think optimists search for things to identify as ‘signs’ in the natural world because hey are happy by nature and want some sort of relatable confirmation to support their happiness, especially because it feels logically unnatural to be happy at times.

i n v i t i n g my new upstairs neighbors are loud (or this building is thinning in its age). i can hear their every step, their voices, their laughter. my sacred silence is interrupted by spoken words i can’t clearly make out. murmurs through shared walls, echoing off what i assume to be high ceilings. noises ooze through their floors, bouncing off the bones of my quiet living space and fading off into the air. i’m not bothered. if i close my eyes, it’s like i live in a city. like i’m not sitting here alone. wondering, will i meet these people let alone get to know them. i want to signal back. but desire is nothing without desire and tonight i can’t be bothered. i will picture strangers sharing stories over wine and not question it further. i like where i live although it took awhile.

it’s called doing your thing it took a bus ride to calm me down to chill me out to bring me back i had my friends with me through their music we passed the time in transit together once i arrived i followed an upside down map and got to where i was going anyway like a local native i road the subway blending in by not standing out an average day where no one knew i was just visiting just passing through eye contact and polite smiles keeping to myself thinking, i want this all of the time (mainly because i don’t have this all of the time) not now, not yet modern travels in escapism places to call my own with or without flags peace to my city

until next time.

Profile for kc orcutt

Kept Close  

A collection of original writing and photography by KC Orcutt.

Kept Close  

A collection of original writing and photography by KC Orcutt.

Profile for kcorcutt