where are you, my friend

Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream of what I need

I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life

Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There's someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat
It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet

(Chorus)

Up where the mountains meet the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I would swear that there's someone somewhere
Watching me

Through the wind and the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach
Like a fire in my blood

_frou frou_

i do need a hero. but ive been holding out for long enough. i have one. a hero on a white horse who's come to sweep me off my feet. but i turned away. he tried to romance me, and i ran away and curled up alone, crying my lonely tears. ive run after those i never really believed i could love. then i fooled myself for too long and fell. fell down into a pit with high sides. i only just made it out. all the while, my hero stood quietly beside me. he stood and cried for my pain and he watched the sunsets with me. he painted the sunsets for me. and yet i still cried out that i was lonely. oh how i must have hurt him! im sorry, my love. my hero. ive called too many others by a name that was yours alone. they all fall so desperately short of what i need. so short. none of them could be enough for me. not a one. you are my hero. i need no other.

and yet i want a friend. someone just as imperfect and fallen as me. with scars to show and stories to tell and a life to live. a life i can share in.

i have a hero. but i want a friend.

one stepped lightly over the threshold, gently closing the door behind him. the click of the latch was audible yet went unnoticed. the last glimpse held a sadly apologetic expression. meek forgiveness shone in his eyes. but perhaps i imagined it all.

one burst back through the door. heavy laden. shock and surprise was audible in my greeting. i really never expected to see him again. stealing glances all night. laughing and smiling more than i can remember. im sure they noticed it. my face hurt from smiling all night. i found him again. but i fully expect to lose him again.

merry christmas to me.

no attempts at comfort, please

not one of those quick snaps. no, not quick. just a slow and agonizing realization of something i cant even describe. no need to worry. just let me do all the worrying. ill curl up with it all to myself and let you know if i need anything. like a small, trapped animal ricocheting off the walls of a cage, all of that energy and frustration on the inside. all condensed down until nothing moves. everythings still there, its just not showing. this is when i would drink. this is when i would smoke. all alone and by myself. with no one around to see it. because if no one sees it, no one can say it happened. dont worry about me, ill let you know how it all turns out in the end. i'd go to bed, but i cant sleep. i'd run away, but youre all too far. i'd tell you im okay, but you never quite believe me. its okay, i never quite believe any of the things i say to myself.

scared, hopeful, ashamed of that hope. where are you guys? where did you all go? sarah, my dear, you dont know what strength you gave me. madison, hon, you dont know how much i'd do for you. its times like these i wonder if you really can make a deal with God.

in time, memories fade, senses numb, one forgets...

and we all die.

really, though, what loss is it? if i could only believe that we were leaving each other to follow our dreams. but i cant. the only thing i can believe is that God is taking them somewhere. all i can do is be wonderfully thankful i know them. thankful for all ive had with them. im starting to wonder how many idyllic moments a single life can hold. surely there is some breaking point? some limit. critical mass or something. boom. silhouettes til our bodies finally go. something like that. its harder to sit and watch as each person leaves one by one. i much prefer to be the leaver. ive always been the leaver. im seriously considering being the leaver again. covenant college, youve got one more chance. just one. if you take one more from me, thats it. through. im gone. i was better off when i was only leaving the idea of friends. that was all. a tearful ride home after the last day.

no more idealistic dreams for me. ive given up on that.

a question for this summer, to stay? or to run away? the latter is sounding more and more enticing every minute.

a cruel thing

i sat there. sat and studied the keys. through eyes filled with tears. what a cruel thing, i thought in my saddness. my saddness that was unassociated with the sight before me. keys of brick. black and white. two, then three, then two again. it was made in the image of something wonderful and mysterious. the children sit on its bench made of bricks and pretend to compose masterpieces on its silent keys. so sad. to resemble something made to create so beautiful a thing as music. it was like looking at the only copy of a book that had never been read burning in the fireplace. something that looked so much like the instrument that has been the medium for so much emotion. so much beauty. so much potential. yet to never utter a note. to always be silent. i wanted so badly to place my fingers gently on the white bricks and press ever so softly and feel them depress and hear the beautiful chord rise. but i knew they wouldnt budge, no matter how gently i pressed them. so sad.

the worst fate in the world would be to live as a brick piano.

jezebel

who's seen jezebel?
she was born to be the woman i would know
and hold like the breeze
half as tight as both our eyes closed

and who's seen jezebel?
she went walking where the cedars line the road
her blouse on the ground
where the dogs were hungry, roaming

saying, "wait, we swear
we'll love you more and wholly
jezebel, it's we, we that you are for
only"

who's seen jezebel?
she was born to be the woman we could blame
make me a beast half as brave
i'd be the same

who's seen jezebel?
she was gone before i ever got to say
"lay here my love
you're the only shape i'll pray to, jezebel"

who's seen jezebel?
will the mountain last as long as i can wait
wait like the dawn
how it aches to meet the day

who's seen jezebel?
she was certainly the spark for all i've done
the window was wide
she could see the dogs come running

saying, "wait, we swear
we'll love you more and wholly
jezebel, it's we, we that you are for
only"

Iron & Wine - Jezebel

i dont know how to comfort you, my dear. it hurts me so much to watch you hurt. i know you'll miss him, and i know you'll miss her. we'll all miss them. but i dont know how to comfort you. i wish i did, but i dont. all i can do is be here for you, and let you cry when you need to.

i love you, my dear.

when you find a mr. darcy, should you let yourself fall in love?

my dreams become more and more vivid

the horse was black. a silken black with a shine on it like oil. i could feel his body betweeen my legs as i tried to hold on, gripping for all i was worth. no saddle or stirrups to hold on to, merely my body perched upon his. when i first climbed up onto his back, i felt like it would be awkward and he would easily throw me at the first step, but settling down, i realized how much my balance was influenced by his want of me upon him. if he wanted me off, i would suddenly not be able to hang on, but for the moment, he was willing for me to ride him. we sped through the dry and dead trees of the mountain, racing headlong towards the blazing flames that were quickly engulfing the forest.

an excerpt from a story i havent written yet

it was one of those in-between days. one of those days where nothing went quite right, but it couldnt have been said that anything went truly wrong either. where nothing was in black or white, just muddy shades of grey. it was hard to do anything on this type of day. the sun had been hiding behind the clouds all morning, and the dull light made indistinct shadows wherever she looked. it was one of those worst days. she somehow couldnt find enough feeling to make herself smile, and there was nothing, really, to smile about, either. but it wasnt one of those bad days. nothing truly terrible had gone wrong, so she didnt feel quite justified in letting herself feel miserable. but the miserableness was there in the frustration at the pure indifference of this day. if she were a cat, she would be twitching her tail, back and forth. flicking at the little indistinct bits of life that were converging to create this frustration.

but, unfortunately, she thought, she was not a cat and she could not flick her tail to and fro in that agitated manner. no, she just drove. the dry landscape scraped by the window of the car. she kept her eyes fixed on the dirty, blue minivan in front of her. she made up some painfully ordinary story about the yuppie soccer mom that was driving her 2.5 kids to the walmart a few miles away. she could almost hear the kids fighting in the backseat and she could imagine the tired thoughts that turned through the mother's head.

"i wonder if she would flick her tail, too," she mused under her breath. she said it aloud, though no one was in the car. the lack of company was precisely why she muttered this fleeting thought, rather than merely letting it swirl silently around in her head. had anyone been in her car with her, she would have been concentrating on them. her thoughts would have encompassed them, but as it were, her thoughts lingered on many things outside of her little car as she sped through the cold, dead countryside.

it wasnt brown, more of a yellowish tan. everyone always describes a dry winter landscape as brown, but to her, brown was too colorful of a description. a faded tan was closer to what she saw. almost a grey. brown was a rich and earthy color, and there was nothing rich or earthy about the grey road that cut through the greying grasses, with the faded tan tree trunks that stuck up out of the faded tan leaves. it was as if all the color from the summer had dried up and faded. like how colorful paper does when left in a sunny window. she could remember, as a child, taking down such colorful construction paper masterpieces to find that all their color had seeped through the glass and been washed away by the sun. the trees had just been left out in the sun too long. the trees, and the grasses, and the houses. all of them, faded from the too long exposure to the bleaching light.

in which cleaning day tries to kill me...twice

attempt #1
so today was cleaning day for founders. which consists of throwing everything on top of the bed to vaccuum and then hiding it all as best as possible. well, i had about 10 books piled up on the bed and was trying to take the large, metallic happy birthday sign (which is about 2 months old) down. to do this i had to stand on my book-covered bed and balance in between the range of various kinds of things that were cluttering it. well, i got it down and as i turned to step off my bed, i lost my balance. i stepped off the bed (which is on risers) and landed on the side of my foot and all of my weight landed on my ankle. unable, at this point, to catch myself, i crashed down to the floor. my whole right side is sore. my one roommate was in the room but the other one heard the crash of my body on the floor and came running in to find me sprawled out on the floor holding my ankle and muttering profanities through clenched teeth. i was soon able to walk, though, and continued to clean the room. (much more carefully)

attempt #2
a few hours later, i had just finished my hall chore of wetsysteming the bathrooms. cleaning day had not been kind to me since my little attempt at flight. i have three large scrapes on my knuckles from trying to open the stupid windows to clean the outsides. after finishing the bathrooms, i went into one to wash the chemicals off my feet and legs. however, instead of sitting on the bathroom counter to do this (it was wet) i decided to place one foot at a time in the sink and wash it off. i was fine for the first one, however, when i placed the wet foot back on the floor and went to lift the other up, i ended up flying backwards with quite a few not very nice things running through my mind. crashing, again, to the hard bathroom floor, i began, immediately to laugh at myself. allison comes in and after asking if im okay and me yelling through the laughter that i was fine...just fine, asks if i had fallen again. my roommates commented that they had heard the large crash of my entire body once again hitting the floor, but had thought to themselves that it couldnt have been me falling again. we spent the next fifteen minutes laughing at my complete and utter lack of balance today.

so if you see me limping across campus, yeah, thats why.

weeping willow, i cry my sorrows to you.

we walk around to people.
holding out our hearts.
saying here i am.
i am weak.
and the other person hides away their brokenness for us.
and lets us think they're strong.
they become strong for us.
then, when we feel comforted.
they turn to the person next to them.
and hold out their shattered hearts.
we have all wiped away the tears of one.
while our own hearts cried.

tennyson

Dear as remembered kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.

alfred lord tennyson

lost, gently. like the swift melting of a snowflake on the warm flesh. slipped away. gone. like one star in the vast millions burning out. no flickering, no wavering. just gone. faded away in an instant. one light lost in the broad expanse of light. like a star that burns out in the daytime. quiet. soft. like the slip of silk onto the carpeted floor. no sound, only the sheen on the cloth as it slides off the bed.

"i dont feel loved. i dont feel welcome. i feel shunned. i feel cast aside. i feel hated and worthless."

-something i wrote last night.

today, the sun peeked up over the mountain, and i remembered things i had forgotten, and God told me things i needed to hear. people looked at me today, people looked at me, and even though some were insincere, they did care enough to try. perhaps the caring and trying was solely for their own comfort and benefit, but it helped me none the less.

i am stronger today.

::growl::

as i procrastinate

so did you really think i'd get through the night before a big test without blogging at least once? silly person. anyway, im coming to realize many things in my life can be classified as a bird stealing bread out from under my nose. the iron and wine song has that line in it.
"do his hands in your hair feel a lot like a thing you believe in,
or a bit like a bird stealing bread out from under your nose?"
there are some things in my life right now that feel so good, but are really stealing life from me. sin. sin is a bird stealing bread. disobedience to God. another bird. so many birds circling my little loaf of bread. there are so many birds circling other's heads too. but i cant take my eyes off my bread. Lord, take my bread from me. i pray that you would help me guard it. Lord, i pray that you would take my life from me. take it from my incapable grip. take it and make it yours...so that none may steal it. so that i may be used by you.

as i dance on eggshells...

what is loyalty? i was sitting here in bed and trying to define something. trying very hard. running scenarios through my mind. mock conversations and situations. loyalty of friends is coming into question at this moment of my life and, in questioning the loyalty of others, i naturally begin to question my own. i was formulating a sort of promise thing in my mind...you know, something i say quietly to myself whenever i decide i am friends with someone.

she calls me loyal.

what is loyal?

she said she has a friend who will hate anyone who hurts someone he loves. she loves this about him. he will hate with a vengance anyone who hurts someone he loves. she says he is loyal.

what is loyal?

is loyalty supporting someone no matter what? what if theyre wrong? what then? how do you remain loyal when you know they are wrong? loyalty, therefore, cannot be blindly supporting someone's actions. is loyalty tied to actions at all? no. loyalty is not something that is deserved or earned. not for me at least. people do not earn their loyalty from me. i am loyal to those i love. or at least i try to be.

i will be loyal to you. but that does not mean i will support everything you do?

does this make loyalty conditional? am i mixing up loyalty and love? what is loyalty?


"Loyalty, a prime virtue, is unswerving in allegiance, and implies a faithfulness that is steadfast in the face of any temptation to renounce, desert, or betray. Loyalty to God is the first commandment. Live what it teaches, to love Honor above all things."

Loyalty. i will not leave you. i will not betray you. you can leave me, you can betray me, you can hurt me. you can say anything you want, to me and about me. and if you come back, i will still be here. i cant promise i won't fear you by then. i cant promise you i havent cried or screamed or walked alone on dark nights to places i dont know. i cant promise you not to be hurt or scared. but i can promise that i will chance you again. second chances, third, fourth, nine hundred and fifty seventh.

i give you my loyalty, but it is beneath a different loyalty. i am loyal to God first.

God is loyal to me.

a time much different from our own

i want to know what it means to die to yourself each and every day.

a melancholy blue

i just realized what a sad person i come across as. im not really that sad. i just like to pretend im sad a lot. i pretend to be sad and i wallow in being the little bit of sad that i am because it's easy. you've got to admit, its a lot easier to be sad than to be happy. many times i just dont feel like expending the energy to be happy...or it just fits my purposes better to be sad. purposes and mood. perhaps it's because ive been depressed for a while. for a long while. im getting better, guys...i really am. i dont lose hope...sometimes i just get a little lost. dont worry too much about me, loves...i enjoy playing the melodramatic victim who has been wronged in life and in love. and im not saying my life isnt pretty shitty at times...it is. i'll be the first to say it. but my hope is not based on what happens here. my hope is based on God. ive got God, and he's all i need. dont worry about me.

i need to know we get second chances. right now i just cant believe it. there are too many things gone wrong. too many things that will never be forgotten...and most likely never forgiven. but they should be. my heart keeps crying out that they should be. tonight i can't believe in second chances, or that goodness prevails, or that what happens is for the best. i just cant believe such things tonight.

i apologize in advance for my inexcusable irritability

not that i dont love my hallmates dearly...but at the moment, i am ready to kill them all. they stormed into the hall yelling and screeching as college girls are prone to do at times. this didnt bother me too horribly (i forgot to preface this with the fact that i am sick and severely drugged at the moment). im trying to be patient, but i think if one of them so much as glances into my room, they will have their head thoroughly and completely bitten off. i have a sharp tongue when my patience has worn thin, though i truly hate using it. (Lord, give me patience, Lord, please give me patience!) they then proceeded to literally yell at the top of their voices across the hall to each other...then began to...sing...oh holy night at the very tip top of their lungs in the most vile and off key way possible. i am not insulting their singing ability, they were trying to sound as horrible as possible. they were screaming the lyrics in such a way as to grate the ears of any who were unfortunate enough to be within earshot. then the stupid, meaningless banter (usually at pitches quite above that of their normal voices) echoed through the hall. all of this culminated finally with the drunken-sounding screech of one of them asking, of all the hall, where her roommate had gone. i swear to you...if she comes in here...lets just say i pity her. i sit here and i wonder if they would be worse if they were actually drunk instead of merely acting like it.

how confusing it must be
to come across one so scarred as me
to see in one glance what took years
of pain and solitude and tears
to wonder at my wounds half healed
and marvel at these tears i've sealed
in glass jars.
my heart is scarred
and open for your eyes to see

and everyone i reached for in the swirling ocean...instead of holding me up, grabbed likewise onto me and forced my head under the waves again. so i would extricate myself from their grasp and move to the next person...that one over there seemed to be treading water pretty well. but when i reached him with my plea for help, i realized he was drowning quicker than i. reaching out for me, he grabbed ahold of my shoulder and tried to pull himself out of the choking saltwater. my head went under and the vile brine filled my eyes and nose. the roar of the water distorted the sounds of struggle above and the gasping voices sounded alien when carried through the sea. opening my eyes in the stinging ocean, i looked around. the brown water blurred my vision more and the thought flashed through my mind that i could just stay down here. just stay and rest. finally rest. pain shot through my head as the flailings of the one above me came into shocking contact with my temple. the brown water became darker and darker with black flashing across my vision.

to be continued...when i find out what happens

in over my head...

people keep asking me if i'm okay. the funny thing is that it takes me a few seconds to realize they are referring to the whole stuart thing. i kinda chuckle when i realize this and say, "i'm fine." i say i'm fine because i have pushed the real issue out of my mind. we did foster care for years. we had two little boys. eric and damien. brothers. a year apart. eric stayed with us for a few years. then he went to another home. one that had better training to deal with him. he was pretty messed up. we adopted damien. another family adopted eric. a few days ago, eric told damien he was being sexually molested. damien said that...its not abuse...its not abuse, but its bad. he was meaning abuse in the "beating up" way. my mom got a few more of the details from him. from what we can tell, eric is being sexually molested. we reported it. eric denied it. theres nothing we can do now. but i believe him. i believe it happened and is happening. and there is nothing we can do.

all i want to do right now is go home. go home and crawl into my mother's arms. cry in my mother's arms. she'll cry too. dad will try to be strong but he'll cry too. none of us know what to do. not even my uncle, the pastor. the pca pastor whose supposed to know the answers. not even him. so if you ask if i'm alright, the answer is no. i'm not. so don't ask. just help me distract myself. help me laugh and play. help me pretend that life is good right now.

...it bore repeating

I've been out walking, I don't do too much talking these days, these days. These days I seem to think a lot about the things that I forgot to do and all the times I had the chance to.

I've stopped my rambling, I don't do too much gambling these days, these days. These days I seem to think about how all the changes came about my ways and I wonder if I'll see another highway.

I had a lover, I don't think I'll risk another these days, these days. And if I seem to be afraid to live the life that I have made in song, it's just that I've been losing so long.

I've stopped my dreaming, I won't do too much scheming these days, these days. These days I sit on corner stones and count the time in quarter tones to ten. Please don't confront me with my failures, I had not forgotten them.

(nico)

a humiliation

well...here i am. ive gotten myself into this. and im ok. amazingly enough...at the moment at least...ive managed to endure what i once thought unendurable. well, it hurts me that he read it. not that he chose to read it...but that it happened. lets see...well, the frustrating thing is that i cant explain it to him and i know that he's going to take everything i say wrongly. he's going to take everything i said on there the wrong way. am i really in shock? is that why ive been laughing? eh. all i really care about is the fact that i'm going home in a few weeks. a few short weeks. life will be hell. ive come to expect that from time to time. damage has been done....i really dont ever expect it to undo itself. its ironic that at the end of it, it becomes new to him. i have a thing about burning old thoughts...or erasing them. there are things i learned through this...pain i went through. i cant erase it and pretend it doesnt exist. i cant. its stupid. i couldnt do that.
come back as often as you like...view my bruises. this serves as merely a photo alblum. i refuse to forget my mistakes, that is why i refused to delete it. i still refuse. come back as often as you like. hate me. fear me. i dont value these feelings anymore, thats why ive left them open to you and everyone i know.

its quite the comforting thought that the most closely guarded part of my self has been exposed for at least three to see and i have survived to tell the tale. quite comforting in fact. the most selfish part of myself, the most secret part of myself, the most hidden part of myself...exposed to the blinding sunlight to realize that, though it hurts the eyes, i havent melted. i havent died. in fact, i find it legitimately funny. oh come on, how else am i supposed to react? this is life, damn it! it sucks...a lot. in fact, my life will be hell for the next...oh few weeks.

::thwack::

ouch...
damn...
well i guess im listening now
...damn.

striking out on a great adventure through unknown places

im sitting here listening to "save tonight" and the line that i used to identify so amazingly with keeps repeating in my mind. "save tonight, and fight the break of dawn. come tomorrow, tomorrow i'll be gone." i dont know who or what i was fighting against when i remember loving and almost crying at that line. perhaps it was change. perhaps it was losing something i wanted to have. perhaps it was growing up. but its not as eloquent as it used to seem...or as beautifully sad. its just a line in a song. it's another person singing the lyrics...not my heart.

perhaps its because i am not sad. it's been a long time since i could say i'm not sad. losing people. hurting. missing memories. falling in love with memories and times i can't have again. i hurt myself over and over. i've been seeing change differently now...for the past few months...almost a year. not something to fight. not something to mourn. you lose so much of life when you do that. God does these things for a reason. i lose things in my life for a reason. and i dont think that reason is for me to mourn their loss. my memories are sweet (with the occasional hint of bitter)...but that's what they'll stay. memories. life is not a photo alblum...life is not some movie you watch...life is exactly that. life. a verb. a state of being. it's like asking who you are or asking why i love someone. i am. i love you because you are. there is no ending because it is not finished. life is something that is. not something you sit around and try to define. it is what it is and it is valued because of it's very existence, not because of it's content.

i am writing this to say that i'm living now. today, i am living. tomorrow, i pray that i will live again. i pray that i will live the rest of my life. i pray that my life will be just that, life. i also pray for everyone...that they may find joy in life. it's hard at times. it hurts at times. it's beautiful at times. it's hideous at times. and at times it's everything and nothing. God is the only reason i have life, in all its meanings. that's the same as saying light is the only reason i have light. but it's true.

the song is over. that's all it was. a song. there are many other songs to sing. so i leave you with a prayer. that you would find life in all its beauty and pain. that you would find God above all.

the Lord is good. His love endures forever. i praise the name of the Lord; He is good.

oh, the fumes!

i just finished helping people paint the set for tartuffe and im slightly high from the paint fumes...only slightly, mind you. whee! ok, yeah.

i'm 20!

well, i have finally finished with my teenage years. its really really strange to think about. now my parents no longer have a teenager...that is until nov. 10 when my little brother turns 13...hehe. so yeah, last night was my last night as a teenager and i spent it playing, running around the hall and trying to wrestle various types of projectiles from one of my guy friends. then we went down to mocha joes and went to see dave's new apartment. its really cool and has a ton of potential...i love places with potential. i really like the back porch thing where you go in. i would have liked it better if i didnt almost faint when i went in. the smell of smoke is overwhelming to the point of not being able to breathe. so yeah. that was my last night as a teenager. i think it was a pretty decent way to kick off a new decade.

these days

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.

I've stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'll see another highway.

I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another
These days, these days.
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long.
La la la la la, la la.

I've stopped my dreaming,
I won't do too much scheming
These days, these days.
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten.
Please don't confront me with my failures,
I had not forgotten them.

-nico

sometimes, when you ask if i'm okay, i have to say i'm fine. if i tell you the truth, i'll burst into tears...and not know why

waltz to the rhythm of memory

i'll give you the first waltz, my love, though i can't promise the last. the flavor of scotch on your lips dogears the pages of my memories. did i fool you into thinking i threw away the flower you gave me? that little red paper flower...a rose i think, do you remember? was it a rose? or my red imagination? all i remember was the dry smell of the paper. memories forget the details. memories settle as they will into rhythmic ridges and waves. it's not good to fall in love with memories, but the lock on the rotten wooden door is rusted open and the breeze is playing a song in between the cracks. the hinges groan in their sleep.

lonely fair

dont damn them...
they are broken too
thats why it hurts so bad
their broken edges are sharp
just like mine
just like yours
and when we bump into each other
we get hurt
its all the brokenness sticking out
love them
and hug the broken shards tighter to yourself
it hurts
but life hurts
its lonely and it hurts like hell
but its what we've got
and its beautiful if you can see through the tears
cuz life is just a lonely fair

the gentle, familiar sounds of iron and wine play as i sit drinking greyfriars coffee from my favorite mug. curled up on my bed, warm in my room as the mountain top is wrapped softly in cloud...two of my very best friends just as warm and comfortable on the other two beds next to me. red folds of my skirt fall softly over my legs and the bed. lazy sunday evening...studying when i dont really have to, with drowsiness settling slowly in...the last of the coffee fighting it off weakly. struggling more out of habit than out of actual resistance.
______________________________________

the contrast of tonight with last is startling. last night i had not the energy or passion to love anything. lost in the valleys of my mind, valleys of my pain, i cried stale tears of indifference, for the pain had finally eaten through the numbness like an acid, but had yet to breech the indifference that silently suffocated my heart. i could love nothing and no one last night. tonight, the gentle light of morning peeks through the leaf lattice of the forest i have lost myself in...the bruises on my arms once again resemble handprints, and i have found that i am no longer drowning in a sea of darkness. the sweetness of life has triumphed over the bitter...no matter how much the bitterness outweighs the sweet. i have a long way until the top of the mountain...a long way until the next valley...but i am content because i know they are coming, i am content because i know i am no longer stumbling deeper downward through the grasping trees. i am climbing, and no matter how steep or how slippery, i always prefer the upward slope.

searching in solitude

the night was blue. a deep cobalt blue. not black, night was never black in her eyes...always a shade of blue. the asphalt was still warm from the sun that had not been long set, but the rocks in the woods would be cold. they accustomed themselves to the nature of the night much quicker than the road. the road still seemed to hold out hope...clinging desperately to the last memory of the sun. but the rocks had been there longer. wrapped in the shade of the trees, they were always cold. always ready for the blue night to descend on them. she wandered to the end of the road, where the blue asphalt met bluer gravel. roads that dont go anywhere intrigued her. so she came here and sat. it is one of her many "spots." yet it is one of the only ones she goes to...for the others are dangerous at night. and a painful trip in bare feet. so she came here. the night was cold. it was still summer, though the night tried denying the fact whenever it held its hand over the mountain. the rocks forgot the sun quickly and the grasses bathed in the dew...shivering and waiting. why had she come here? she asked herself. why? how many times had she wandered away from people who would be more than willing to listen to her problems in favor of the cold, silent night? she always went where no one would find her...though it was usually when she most wanted someone to find her. wanted someone to care enough. she didnt want to have to ask people to care...thats not how its supposed to be. he was supposed to be walking by...looking for something or someone too. and they would find each other. and sit and talk. and it would be better. but he never found her. he never came. did he ever even leave? or think about her?

smooth walls enclosed the space. clean, cool, safe. i had just come upon this room with its golden wooden floor. it wasnt special. just a room. but it was safe and clean and good. i walked around, absently caressing the wall. the paint wasnt new, but the integrity of it was palpable. the soft dryness of the wall registered as good as well. i turned to look at the entire room again...so pleasing and calm it was to my eyes when i noticed something on the farthest wall. a spot. black, wet-looking, tar-like. i wondered at this that i hadnt seen seconds before, so i wandered over to the spot. it seemed to be growing. oozing out of the wall, spreading...like a drop of black blood on clean white cotton. tendrils laced out and away from it, infecting more and more of the clean walls. backing away in my horror at the spread of the disease, i heard a noise behind me. the clean plaster of the walls was crumbling. sliding down to reveal a wall of, not lathing, but more blackness. it was not the one spot that was infected. the whole room was oozing with the evil blackness. sick and rotting the stench suffocated me. the once golden wood floor beneath my bare feet became suddenly rotting and sharp with splinters. i wanted to run but i knew i couldnt. i smiled through the tears that were streaming down my face. smiled at my naivete. smiled at the earlier estimation of goodness and integrity. and the evil began to fill the room.

chapter 1

"Damn," she thought as she rolled over in the sheets, listening to the unearthly scream of the alarm clock. It was that point in sleep where you haven't quite opened your eyes but are still horribly aware of the vulgar screech of the alarm pulsing away, deriding all that is good and holy in the morning time. Not that there is anything particularly good or holy about morning, she thought to herself. Those last few moments of blissful unawareness passed painfully quickly and the cloud of responsibilities that the day would bring loomed inches over her bed, waiting to crash down on her shoulders the instant a semblance of consciousness was regained. Reveling in her last few moments of ignorance, she savored the softness and warmpth of her pillow and idly entertained the possiblility that she may be able to sleep in today.

The alarm clock made sure that this was impossible, however. She sat up, immediately coming into painful contact with the cloud of her mental "to-do list" for the day, and groggily batted at the biggest button on the alarm clock. She could feel the bed pulling her back down, but she resisted today, seeing as she had given in to the warm softness too often before. Besides, today she needed a shower, and the will to smell good outweighed the will to attempt another two minutes of sleep. She'd just end up having to wake up all over again, and it really wasn't worth it. She slid out of bed and headed towards her door. Staggering enough to have to grab the door frame to keep from falling face first into the wall.

The bathroom was the same dingy white it had always been. It would have been painted by now...except that she never found the time to decide on the color she wanted. She felt blindly for the faucet; her eyes had not regained the ability to focus yet...almost, but not quite. She looked down into the sink and froze. It was there again. The deep red smear, bigger this time. Redder this time. She heard the blood rushing in her ears and she felt the quickened throb in her neck.

"Not again." She whipered. "No, it can't have come back."

She wanted to run, to scream, to faint, to suddenly be jolted awake again by the deafening blare of her alarm. It had to be a dream. It didn't really happen. No...no.

She quickly began wiping with the first dry cloth that she could reach. An old blue shirt of James' that he had left at her house weeks ago. She tried not to notice how much blood was seeping into the fabric as she continued her panicked smearing.

Turning, she froze. This time she did scream, though it was not a full scream. More like the sound one would make when one first feels the strong hands close around the throat. A high pitched exclaimation, cut short by the sudden constriction of the hands. There on the windowsill, was a crimson smear of blood...a five fingered smear. She lunged at the sill with the blue shirt, rubbing the erie smear beyond her initial recognition. Shaking violently, and breathing irradically, she kept frantically cleaning the scarlet stains off the sink and sill.

She spent the rest of the morning fighting the image of the ominously shaped smear on the sill, as it seemed to be the image that persisted in her mind.

view from my window

growling, the deep grey clouds fade away in the distance as the soft, white fluff drifts in between the blue mountain tops. cold breeze chases away the heat fo the summer sun hidden behind layers of grey cotton batting. crisp and clean the divide of clear air between the grey ceiling and the white expanse of cotton tucked softly in the valleys with islands of trees sticking out of the fallen clouds.

random thoughts

i would rather misjudge a person as greater in character than less.


"self-contemplation is a curse, that makes an old confusion worse"
~ Roethke

too much caffiene

small child running away far away from the music playing and the softness of sunday church fading into the past. grey dusty planks wooden floor dirty feet and splinters. muddy tendrils wash the pebbles in the stream of ice. green moss moist and soft cushion. bed of moss. cannot sleep here with the trees and silver slips of moon shining on the grey grasses. curved blade of the moon shines quietly violent in the nothingness the stars struggle against the suffocating deepness of the black clouds. bending in the silver streams cast shadows hide the tears watering the grasses. blackness all my own wraps me warmly stealing breath from the dewy air. blood seeps into the brown trunk reclining its way across the path winding as a thread of earth through the grey coated leaves. curled away from the eyes of the lesser light whose blades of misty brightness lacerate the darkness cloth wrapping tighter around my chest. heaving struggling rasping breath gags on the cold wetness chill on back and neck. stillness settles, stifling the sounds of the struggle within. slowing the steady rhythm of warmpth streaming through the numbing body. drifting away from the grass, the stream, the moonlight...drifting home.

you said...

you said you beat up the other guy. you explained every blow. you gave us the play-by-play. you make jokes and we laugh, you tell stories and we listen. you tell us how strong you are. how unfair the fight was. how unfairly you have been used. you tell us how she hurt you, and how strong you are for taking it. you tell us how you give her your strength. you tell us how you give us your strength.

we say...

you dont need to be strong for us. we already love you. you are already our friend. you do not need to prove your strength, capability, deservingness. you dont have to carry our burdens. we dont ask you to be something more. you dont have to be our entertainment. you rush to tell us your story..."here is my story and all that i am..." "now that you know me, you cant leave me." youve had to be strong. youve had to be enough. know that you dont have to be anything for us to continue to love you. thats it, youre in, sorry hon, you cant get out of it now. weve got you.

all im saying is that you neednt worry. we will listen, we will talk, we will be here when you need us. because...we are friends.

valley...

i was headed down. through the trees, around the rocks, splashing through the cold mountain streams, and into the fading golden light. leaves crunched and sticks cracked loudly under my bare feet and the moss was soft and cool. i gently caressed the lichen spotted trunks as i balanced on their roots in the cooling evening. chill began to settle, and the air became wet with the dew that drifted in and out with each breath. the rocks grew sharper, and the darkness deeper. the cold stars shone on night-blackened leaves as i wandered, darkness settling, stifling hope that flared with the last of the sun's light. now i was lost...and the darkness whispered. speaking of the evils it held in its midst. threatening of the things unknown and nameless. slippery, the leaves underfoot threatened to pull me down onto the sharp rocks and tear the tender flesh of my knees. tears streamed down my face as the moon watched my stumbling deep in the trees. stabbing through the openings in the leaf latticed sky. i couldnt see. i fell. bruised and broken, i lay in the wet leaves in the ditch that cut deep into the valley, cradling my limp form. i couldnt rise for the weight of the the blackness, soft, smothering, suffocating.

i woke to the morning light streaming through the windows. the coolness of the room seemed to echo my memory of the nightdark. stretching, i turned over, waiting for the alarm to sound to signal the official arrival of my day. for that moment of inexistence, where there were no demands, no reasons, nothing but the covers and the crisp morning, i was new. yet i remembered the darkness wrapping me tighter like a cold, black sheet, slowly constricting my chest...and then i knew that somehow, during the night, i had left the ditch. i had left the damp, wet leaves, and i had begun to climb. upways again toward the rising lightness in the east. it was not my own strength that pulled me from the ditch...the handmarks bruising my arms serve to betray the help of another. during the nightdark, he had pulled me out, and placed me where i may be able to once again climb towards the greater light; saving me from the cold indifference of the lesser.

to him: thank you.

i am tired

i am tired and restless. so much is different yet so much the same. i hate this time, this time where i feel like im teetering on a precipice and my stomach drops at each waver of balace as i lean further out over the edge. everything has been so incredibly hectic. i cant believe im back. last semester was all i knew, and now its so different. im going to run away. i wandered around campus, looking for someone, hoping someone would find me at this hour. i wanted to go down by the pond, i wanted to go somewhere, with someone...though i dont know who. i cant ask. i cant ask what i want to ask. i cant ask that of them. its not my place. its not my right. and asking would just be wrong. wrong for me. where shall i go now? where shall i wander...im so tired, yet i cannot sleep. im so hungry, yet i cannot eat. im so...lost right now. i dont know how, but thats what i feel like. this is the strangest feeling right now. im just so...stressed, i guess. eh, maybe the toga party in catacombs will help. i cant wait til open dorms...and im not really sure why.

so i walked outside today....

...on my break and i sat down on this nice little bench on campus. i suddenly realized that, though i had the entire bench to myself, i was seated off to the right. i wondered about this...it was like i left a space for someone. then i realized that i sleep on the right side of the bed. and i sleep on my right side. i am right-winged, right-handed, and right-sided. i must have the aisle on my right-hand side, and when i get into the backseat, i must sit on the right. i drive with my right hand, even though i drive stick. i carry my purse on my right shoulder and when i cross my arms guess which is on top? yep.

hmm. i left a space. like i was saving someone a seat. maybe someday i'll find that person who goes on my left. the person i've always saved a spot for.

that four-letter word

is it a list? a long iteration of qualities and talents that is checked off at every meeting and opportunity? a "best fit deal?" a 'well, you fit 82% of the requirements, so i guess you win' thing?

or is it a set of scales? with one side labeled 'good' and the other 'not so good.' with qualities that fill up each dish and the final judgement witheld til the end. a good vs. bad thing?

or is it a hiding place? a sweet and quiet niche where you place your hopes and dreams. a secret room where you wait quietly for another to care enough to seek you out and find you, then you sit and talk forever. and there's no rush, and you have the rest of your lives. you slowly show them around the room, letting them see each hope, each fragile dream. and they do not laugh, or jeer, or roll their eyes. but merely smile and listen with honest interest as it comes softly shining in each other's eyes.

this is the newest addition to our family. her name is Isabella, but we call her Belle. she's about 3 months old and is about the size of my dog, a border collie named Sammie. sorry about the lack of wit in this post. i just didnt feel up to it.

The Parting Glass

All the money that e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm I've ever done
Alas,It was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now,I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Goodnight and joy be to you all!

Fill to me the parting glass
And drink a health whate'er befalls
Then gently rise and softly call
Goodnight and joy be to you all!

Of all the comrades that e'er I had
They're sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had
They'd wish me one more day to stay.
Since it fell into my lot
that I should rise,and you should not
I'll gently rise and softly call
Goodnight and joy be to you all!

But since it fell into my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I'll gently rise and softly call
Goodnight and joy be to you all!

So fill to me the parting glass
And drink a health whate'er befalls
Then gently rise and softly call
Goodnight and joy be to you all!

closing song to waking ned divine

whispered

tiptoe carefully, there are people sleeping on the floor. the warm wooden floor smoothed by two hundred years of wear. two hundred years of bare feet scuffling through the night. the billowy white curtains recall clouds in their folds and ruffles, gently wrapping the windows that frame the cool darkness. how many people have fallen in love in this room? how many people have danced, talked, kissed? how many people have cried in this room? how many children have run their hands across the logs that make up the wall of this room? tender, young hands on the raw, rough wood. how close i can feel the past...i can feel them crowding around, warming their snow-numbed hands and feet around the stone hearth while the smell of warm drink floats in from the kitchen. their murmurings are muffled by the veil of time that shrouds the shadows that they cast on the darkened walls. and their whispers gently stir the sleeping people on the floor.

skybluepink

how can you tell when the world cycles back and begins again?
how can you tell when the dreams you can't remember come true?

love is a fickle thing...
we throw it away so cheaply then wonder why we cannot find it again, we wonder why no one means what they say...we wonder if we will ever really know someone.

...im searching for contentment, but these dreams keep getting in my way

it sucks to not be in love...

i havent seen much of my mom, considering our schedules are perfect opposites, and i tend to spend days at a time away from home...tonight she asked me "so who are you in love with?" ...caught a bit off guard...i dont usually speak of these things with my mother, but dad's not around so i decide to open up a little. the truth is, im not in love with anyone. its a strange predicament...considering i have always had some guy to crush on since first grade. so she asks "who would you like to be in love with?" and i wonder why i have so many answers to that question....and none to the other.

im bored

Lauren's Aliases

Your movie star name: Kix Ray

Your fashion designer name is Lauren Rome

Your socialite name is Lorelai Vegas

Your fly girl / guy name is L Kin

Your detective name is Fox Sherando

Your barfly name is Apple Smirnoff

Your soap opera name is Elizabeth Scepter

Your rock star name is Hersheys Vette

Your star wars name is Lausam Kinand

Your punk rock band name is The Resignation Telephone

The Amazing Meganame Generator

im a bird.

venom

i felt so stupid. so weak and childlike. so silly. sure dad left. but he would come back. he never left for more than a few days. i shouldnt be worrying so much. what kind of faith do i have that i worry about such things, when i know that God will take care of me and provide me with all that i need? what kind of faith is that to be afraid? but i was. i really was. "no youre not" the voice said. "you just mime fear to get sympathy and comfort. you are selfish and a liar." its venemous whispers plauged my mind. shamed me. cursed me. and i believed them. i berated myself...scolded my feelings of fear and anxiety. but no matter how much i tried to stamp out the embers, they burned still in my heart and in my mind. "fool!" the voice screamed. "fool! child! idiot! you say you trust your Father but still you fear? what is your faith? your faith is worthless if this is how you feel!" and again, i believed.

dad came back.

and the voice laughed in triumph. "there, see! you doubted and feared in vain! your feelings were unfounded and selfish, and you the more worthless for having them." again, i berated and cursed myself.

i try to fight it off, but it remains, lurking in the corners of my mind. hiding in the shadows of what i am afraid to bring to the light. waiting for the chance to strike, waiting for weakness...and my strength is failing. i must stay alert, wary of its presence and of its intentions, or it will gain ground. it will overwhelm me and bring me down. this voice has teeth...and they often drip with my blood and tear the flesh of my heart. for my heart is the target of these firey darts. of these sharp teeth. but my strength is failing.

Lord, i give this voice to you. judge it as you will, and return it not to me.

dad's back

my dad is gone. he left yesterday. we think hes in pennsylvania. he left because he saw how abusive (verbally) he was being, and didnt want to hurt us anymore. we dont know when hes coming back.

i think im going to try for the job at petsmart. i cant leave until dad gets back. it may be a week, it may be a month. we dont know. i used to think that he would never leave us for good...that he loved us too much. however, his love for us may actually make him leave. im optimistic that he will come back...he tends to be a little ADD at times, and gets bored with things easy. i want to say that i hope he comes back soon...but i dont really know.

*insert witty title here

how do i say the things i want to say? how do i tell him thank you? thank you for calling me, thank you for talking to me for two hours, thank you for saying the things he said. how? it really meant a lot to me. it always means a lot to me.

thank you for talking.
thank you for listening.

okay....now what?

okay. so being home all day tends to make me obsess. (well, staying up all night doesnt help either) well, it turns out that this is actually not a good thing. wow, imagine that. so i just keep having to remind myself of what i really want to do and then, im okay...well, okay-er. *sigh. i think i should just give up. release, submit, sacrifice, etc. my check finally came today...my last check. i feel like im being backed up into a corner. the walls just keep closing in. closer...closer...closer. for those of you who have not figured out my biggest fear...im claustrophobic. not badly, but yeah, getting stuck in places and not being able to breath makes me freak out. and it goes for psychological situations too. so i am backing into a corner here and the only way out is birmingham...i dont think i can take this much longer. if i stay here, bad things will happen. (i tend to use my claws when i feel cornered)

a question

do his hands in you hair feel a lot like a thing you believe in,
or a bit like a bird stealing bread out from under your nose?

dad

when i was little, you held my hand
now im older, and you wont let go
your grip is crushing my fingers and no matter how hard i pull away, you keep dragging me onward, exactly where you think i should go. even if i know where you want me is where i belong, i know i dont belong wherever you are. this world may not be where i am supposed to be, but it is better because i am here and you cannot get me...oh, you tried, you chased me and tried to grab my arm to force me to do as you wanted, as you thought best, but i was too quick. but that was a dream, and i am still here, and my world has faded once again to the dry tones of black and grey, never white. and the sounds come muffled but also louder, as if under water. but now you are leaving...again. and it scares me...again.

blatant manipulation annoys the hell out of me

this really hurts

today i woke up around 2pm. i felt really horrible and unproductive. then i asked myself what i would do today. i really didnt want to go to the library and blog some more...so i decided to be "little housewife" and pretend that this was really my house and my responsibility. i would do laundry, dishes, clean, and bake. so i got my shower, and looked outside...i saw that it was sunny (perfect for taking pictures) so i ran outside real quick and took some really great pictures. however, i ran into my dad. he hadnt started work yet, he was still doing something with his work van...and so, he crossed his arms and asked me what i was planning on doing today (read: prove to me that you are worthy and not a slacker and a waste of space and a complete failure...tell me how you have planned your life out and are executing that plan this minute, in everything you do). to tell him of my little plan for today would have been playing into this game of his that i continually find myself trapped in...so i said that i wasnt sure...that i hadnt decided. *insert disappointed sigh from father...slight pause as father considers saying something, and then silence as he walks away. i really cant explain why i cant tell him things like that...it has to do with history, past experience...it just feels too fake to come out with all these answers of how i am worthy right when he asks. i just dont know what to say. so, i go take pictures...dad then comes up and asks "so, what all have you done?" i know that he is talking about jobhunting...he is evaluating my efforts and if he finds them not up to par, he will begin the lecture about "how do you expect to be a good human being if you dont get a job? how do you expect to live on your own later if you dont have a job? how do you expect to be successful in your life if you dont get a job?" then he would say something along the lines of how stupid and naive i am for thinking...oh, various stupid and naive things he thinks i think of...and if i correct him on this point, it only fuels the fire. so, i must play the game...i proceed to list off the many places i am applying to and the opportunities that may open up for me...and he just looks aside. ha, i have stumped him on this point..."victory is mine!" i think. "well, since you dont have a job, i want you to keep doing all that stuff around the house." okay, def the wrong thing to say here...that whole "working around the house" meant that i was his slave and anything that i tried to reason with him about meant that i was being disrespectful towards not only my father but my employer...when this whole supposed "deal" was in reality a dictatorship...he was not my employer, he was my dictator. (there is a lot more here that i just dont have time to let you in on) so i nodded silently b/c any vocalization would have been unintelligible screaming. when he left, i was so angry and hurt and insulted by all the things he said, that i paced the kitchen. i am so frustrated with this control freak that i literally tried to rip the banister off the stairs...it wobbles a good six inches...then i began hitting doorframes.

i have decided that i cant do this...im not strong enough; this man is going to drive me into therapy...i swear he will. all i could think of was that my worst day at covenant would be a welcome respite from the drama of home. oh, and ive decided that i am moving to birmingham with kaylor...my parents finally said yes.

i hate how my father projects the things he doesnt like about himself onto me. he isnt satisfied with his life, so he has to "fix" me. i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it. is there someone who will rescue me from this life?

an invitation

come in, and sit awhile. normally, i would ask how you are...but tonight is different. tonight i want to tell you things. i want to tell you stories. i want you to listen...but you dont have to, you may go if you wish, and spend time elsewhere...but you will miss something. i will tell you stories of life and love. of who i am...not the mask that others know so well...but me. the central part of self that is always hidden from view for fear of pain...for fear of the light. for fear that the most valuable part of oneself would not be valued. i would tell you these things in the words of my mind, but his smell is washing over me...and tonight i must speak with my heart. for though he is gone now...the silent song still echoes in my ears...with all its pain...and all its joy. i wouldnt take it back. this is your chance. the sun is gone now...and the chill is settling into the night. and the secret thoughts and feelings that are veiled during the day are exposed...raw to the moonlight (for as everyone knows...moonlight is far better to coax the tender dreams from their hiding places deep in the heart than sunlight) so here i will sing my silent song...weave my web of shimmering thread that, when you look closely, is not really shimmering at all, but wavering in the light of your eyes. this is a place where the deep note of the guitar sounds in your chest as another heartbeat...deep and rhythmic, and the lullabies are really songs of sorrow made to sound sweet to lull the little ones to sleep, as the tears fall on the mother's cheeks. a place where the paper roses bloom and thrive in the fertile ground, then wither and die as the real roses take over the gardens. watered with dreams and misplaced trust.

she keeps his picture behind the one of her father on the mantle...and only looks at it when no one will see her tears. the paper rose he gave her sits in a blue glass vase that she found in the attic of her grandmother's house when she was ten. she begged her grandmother to let her have it. the vase was given to her grandmother from an old beau...lost in the war. she can still remember her confusion at the tears on her nana's smiling face as she said yes. its been so long, and the paper has faded...but she wont throw it away. the vase would look too empty, nana's vase must not be empty or abandoned. no, not abandoned...

the storm

the walls muffle the sound of the thunder as it creeps closer and closer. the windows dim the lightning as it cuts through the sky like a razor. they contain it to four small rectangles of glass that silouhette on the bare walls. the wildness of the storm is stifled by the curtains and the smell that always engulfs me...is not there. it cannot make it through the window panes. but the storm grows stronger, and i can feel the house shake at the voice of the thunder. growing closer and closer...speaking words of destruction...telling how it could rip this house apart...how easily it could tear the tin roof from the frame. the wind drives the rain harder and harder on the roof and batters the side of the house. blue-white lightning circles the house, adding its threats to those of the thunder. still the house stands. in one last burst of violence, the air screams unearthily as the lightning curls down from the storm, and touches the roof. the windows crack but all is muffled by the nearly instantaneous noise that mirrors deafness in its intensity. the blinding flash lights up the greyness that has fallen over everything to such a degree, that all color is bleached away, and for that fraction of a second, the grey is gone and the world is caught in black and white...but mostly white. fear rises, and the heart has yet to slow...now, every time the thunder growls its warning, know that it does not bluff of its bite; and fear. with every crash, the hair on her arms rises and a chill runs through her body. had she been outside for this storm, she would have lost all concious thought and have been carried away with the storm as helplessly as a small bird. she would have been engulfed by a power so much larger than herself, and she would have enjoyed the helplessness and the power that consumed her more than the arms of any she has loved. no past, no future, and no present. only the storm...fleeting and instantaneous, but an enternity when it overcomes all of the senses, and blots thought from the mind. there is nothing outside the storm, nothing before or after...only the storm...and its strength. yet she sits, with the thunder still rumbling in her chest...competing with her heart for control of her body, and she regrets that she did not get carried away...she regrets that the storm did not tear the roof off the house to reach to her; that the wind did not peel away the walls to find her, and the lightning shear the frame to touch her. she scorns the stifling walls and curses the cloudy windows. and she lusts for the storm's return.

ripping out the seams

so, i am quitting the scary job and applying at the hospital as an MRI technician. i got my first paycheck of the summer...and most of it went to pay off my overdraft fees. but today, im gonna go out and buy the new white stripes cd and a new pair of jeans to destroy...hahaha...maybe some spray paint too. today will be a good day.

our poor trampoline

yes, it died...it blew away into the cornfield...and died. it lasted for quite a few years though, and now we have a new one that is staked down to the ground. the old one had blown away quite a few times...but this last time finally killed it (and quite thoroughly i might add).

track 9

everybody's watching you
breathing in your every move.
look around when the world is empty
look around if you're guilty

its over
theres nothing you can do
theres nothing you can say
to keep me here
its over
you say we're just friends
we're playing pretend
to keep me here

every night i lay in bed
i think about the things you said
look around im the one your only
look around it still kills me

its over
theres nothing you can do
theres nothing you can say
to keep me here
its over
you say we're just friends
we're playing pretend
to keep me here

everybody's watching you
and counting down your every move
look around if your heart beats empty
look around if its guilty

im outta here

deeply shining oily light covers the ceiling
blackness of creeping spider
shadow crawling up your arm and onto your face
barely breathing as you sing softly to the night
to drown out those voices in your mind
calling you, slowly calling you away
to deeper and deeper darkness
before the thief of sleep steals away the world
and sets you free into your mind
only to wake with the sheets strangling
your claustrophobic body
panicking as the soft, clean cotton
gently tightens around your chest
and your legs kick
and your eyes glaze
and the shroud is cold and soft

but it was all a dream
and i cant go back to sleep

the grass, it feels like ice as i walk
and wander through the yard
summer's heat stolen from the ground as if by some spirit
who wishes me to walk in the cold grass
i remember the grass when it was warm
but the heat of the sun is fading from my mind
and slowly careening through my head are the slight,
ribbon-like tendrils of the night
and all is wrong
and all is lost
and all is waiting and waiting for something
and no one can know until it comes
and the tidal wave will wash us all to the top of the mountain
where we will finally know why it only snows on the peaks
the closer we are to the sun, the colder it gets
and the closer we are to the earth, the nearer the flames
the warmth from the furnace will warm our hands
before it explodes and we are swallowed in its burning embrace

but it was all a dream
and i cant go back to sleep

drift away...

bad customer service

oooookay, lets see...if you are helping someone, you should HELP them...not say, im sorry, you already paid...but you can keep you coupon! oh joy, excuse me but i did tell you to wait and i did tell you that i had a coupon but no, you didnt listen...you just shut the cash drawer and said..."oops sorry!" oh well! sucks for me! these ppl need ppl who understand customer service. damn. im so much better qualified for her job and yet...factory work. damn. i hate bad customer service.

strawberry sunsets

the strawberries were sweet.


the gravel was blue.


and the sunset was golden...and i forgot that there was a yesterday, and i forgot there will be a tomorrow. time stood still, and i ate strawberries.

the sun it shines on yesterday

i am sitting here and the sun is shining. the sun is still shining and i cant speak of the deep thoughts in my heart because it is day. the sunlight is harsh and public and these thoughts and fears are fragile. these little pieces of myself are allergic to the bright sunlight streaming in through my window. so i hide them, and the smell of honeysuckle spreads through the air. i remember walking up the hill and seeing the berry bushes blooming. instead of baring my tender heart, i think i will go for a walk...perhaps the sweetness of the wild strawberries will distract my mind from...myself...perhaps i will be able to forget everything except the grass and the juice of the berries and the sunset...but night will come and again the sweet release of sleep. if i cant find strawberries, blackberries will do. and tomorrow will be a happy day...filled with things and family and people i love. its the endless days filled with nothing that scare the hell out of me. so im going to go eat berries now and forget that life goes on and pain is coming and remember that the berries taste good.

peur

little ehiley sits with tears streaming down her face. the tears make clean streaks down her dirty face. she always comes back dirty from playing in the woods. the scabs on her knees have not yet healed. her blue-green eyes search His face, finding the sympathy and love He always has for her.

"Daddy, they hurt me! they were mean to me and they hurt me and it's not fair!!"

her Father gathers her in His arms...

"Shhh, dear one. I know, I'm sorry you are hurt, it's okay. Shhh. Cry sweetheart, it's okay"

"Daddy, will you get them back for me?"

"If you ask me to, I will."

"Okay."

"Do you want me to?"

"no..."

"What do you want then?"

her voice is muffled as she buries her face in His arm. His sleeve is wet from her tears. quietly she mumbles, "a kitten..."

true story

today i raced with a machine...and i won
then another came to take my place...and she lost

today i came home and saw a cut-glass bowl, filled with old rosepetals...fallen from the wild roses in the window.
then i saw the flowers she sent from the internet...cold, yellow, hard

today i ran outside in the night when the grass was still dry
the dew wont come til morning

now i sit and eat icecream from a bowl with high sides...it is the only high sided bowl we have
i dont like it, but tonight i chose it...i dont know why

today he smiled at me.

today i cried

where is the storm

the wet, sticky air covered her skin like a blanket. the brightness of the cloud-covered sky stung her eyes and made them ache in her head; but she could go nowhere. the shade of the maple was as offensive to her as the cloudy sunlight she stood in now, and wherever she went, she would still be there. there was no running from her own existence.

the thickness of the air gave the sensation of drowning as she stood there, quietly breathing. she was aware that the land around her could be perceived as beautiful, indeed, she tried to see it herself, but all she saw was the deformity that sometimes masquerades as beauty. the trees were green, but their green was that of indifference to her plight and her pain. the green of the grass that should speak to her of cool, lush life, only spoke of a hot, dry sensation on her dirty, bare feet which were beginning to sweat.

where was the rain? where was the storm that should be on her at this very moment? the thrill of the thunder and lightning that made her heart race and her spirits chase the raidrops held captive in the wild wind. where was the storm? it should be here today, she thought. i can even feel the ground speak of it as one speaks of a punctual friend that is hours late. the trees too; they reach their arms to the sky, trying to feel for that first hint of energy in the air, that first scent of the storm. yet nothing came. not the smell nor the distant call of thunder. only more heat.

the sun could still reach her through the wet blanket of clouds, and she felt the hot sensation on the back of her neck as if of a stare from a stranger who wishes you ill. her frustration escalated, mixing in her head with the dry, dirtiness of her feet and punctuated by the musky smell of her own sweat which began to moisten the groove of her spine and the back of her neck.

valiant

"goodnight my friends, and drift away/ as the sun, it shines on yesterday/ and takes us to the children's dreams/ where the world is finally as it seems"

~ valiant

morning wonderings

gently rising, the lovers' moon
quickly come the dreams too soon
and strumming now a slow, soft tune
awake, and find me here

chasity catches final breath
and innocence is slow to death
again we come to final rest
awake, and find me here

the radio

i turned on the radio on my way over to the library...and this is what i heard

i tear my heart open
and sew myself shut
my weakness is
that i care too much
the scars remind us
that the past is real
i tear my heart open
just to feel

today is another day

"the years tell us much that the days never knew." ~emerson

*silence

as i stand here, eyes welling up with tears, heart beating painfully faster in my chest, i am at a loss. there are no words, love, there are no words. they have not yet been uttered or heard and silence is the only response i can give. you have told me of your loss, your pain. i can say nothing to you. anything i say would be of selfish motive...it would be to make me feel as if i was comforting you, but i have heard these same words myself, and i know they bring no comfort. i have heard the cliche things people say, the comfort they try to bring. i can only appreciate the fact that they wish to comfort me, but their words serve only to drive me further away from them when i need them the most.

there are many, many things i could say. "she's in a better place" "its God's will" "you'll feel better in time" "you'll see her in heaven"...these words serve only the person who gives them. they provide a 'way out,' for when a friend tells you of something like this, you feel obligated to make them feel better. i have never been comforted by hearing these things...they cannot give what needs to be given. we know this and we know the friend knows it...and we stand there, frustrated with our not-enoughness.

i will not say these things. but here i stand. what do you want me to do? if you want me to stay and be silent and just be here with you, i will. if you wish me to leave, i will. if you wish me to call and talk, talk for the sake of talk and tell of all the mundane things that are happening...so that you may have a few moments of distraction from you pain, i will. i will. i love you and i will do anything i can.

i will.

reality bruises

well, im sitting here, at the library, taking a break from filling out job applications. reality hit home when i realized that ive been home for almost a month and have no job...ouch. well ive been looking for quite a while and have resorted to applying at two temp agencies...up side? i get at least 7.50 an hour...down side? its mostly factory work. but i figure i can muddle through it for the money. still, i would love to be working at a little coffee shop with a few good friends...but, the problem is coordinating the good friends...and finding a coffee shop thats hiring there are few up here that are in the same situation i am. one of my best friends has decided to be a bum for the summer...oh well, if my parents would buy me a laptop and pay for my school, i'd probably continue to be a bum...

ive been considering volunteering too...like habitat for humanity...or something...I NEED SOMETHING TO DO! yesterday i sewed myself a skirt...its pretty...but that just shows how freaking bored i am.

Hero

The brim of his hat nearly hides his eyes and the shoulders of his coat stick out like wings on his young frame. Try as he might, he can't keep the sleeves of his coat from slipping down to cover his hands. His belt is pulled past all of the holes and is folded under itself to keep pants that are two feet too long tight to his little waist. Socks pool around his ankles, topping shiny, black shoes that are 5 sizes too large for his young feet. The clunk of his shoes echo through the hall with each step. Carefully he walks, trying to hold the shoes to his feet while stumbling over the excess of clothing. Frustrated with the weight of the coat, blinded by the brim of the hat, he is berated for his stumbling, scolded for not filling his Father's clothes.

Ehiley

If you look carefully, you can see her...a small child, dressed in blue skirts and a white t-shirt wandering around through the woods, stumbling, falling, scraping her knees as she goes. Complaining that she cannot see, as she holds her hands tighter to her eyes, knowing that all she has to do is to open her eyes; yet she tumbles over rocks and her knees are bleeding.

"Daddy!" she cries, "Daddy, where are you?" She pleads with the darkness of her cupped palms. Searching and stumbling, and crying. Sobbing for the father she knew, looking for him again. Following these deep voices, hands pressing tighter to her eyes. Following these deep, male voices...ignoring the calls of her father.

"Daddy! Where are you?"

daddy...where did you go?
i cant see you anymore
...daddy?

don't wake me up, plan on sleeping

i was driving home tonight. i was leaving behind someone i thought was a friend. someone i just realized had used me. i was lonely and felt abandoned. it would be easier to just give him the benefit of the doubt...maybe he did love me...i would rather think everything he said was true...i would rather think he is better than that. i would rather think he didnt feed me a load of bs.

none of my friends would pick up their phones. first, rachel....twice, then stuart...then jonathan...ayla's phone was off....finally kaylor picked up but she was at work. it was raining and it's cold...like 59....thats cold. so here i am, speeding along the narrow back roads, on my cell phone, trying to stay on the road with the glare from my headlights and my poor little wipers trying as hard as they can and the slick roads....and no one picked up. i needed to do something, i was already speeding (about 70 on wet, curvy roads) so i rolled down my window...in the rain. the drops stung my hand as i played in the wind. that seemed to somewhat satiate my lust for...something, some sort of action. i enjoy rain, and the cold bit through the cloud of...something. it brought a sort of clarity and sharpness to everything.

i cant sleep during the day anymore...im gonna have to get up early. they are painting our roof...our metal roof. that means they have to scrape off all the old paint first. which means i cant sleep during the day. so, sometime in the morning there are about 4 mexicans outside my window...i can hear them talking and walking around on the loud, metal roof. bits of spanish drift in and out...i can only understand a few words.

ha...3 years of spanish and all i get are a few words.

on an upnote...i found out my uncle DOES NOT have cancer. Thank you, Lord.

i want to make coffee. i bought two gormet coffees and i want to make one of them. but then ill be up all freaking night. that might not be so bad. there are about four movies ive been meaning to watch. i could just stay up all night then nap throughout the day. then ill take a benadryl and go to bed at like, oh, 9. sometimes i have to completely screw up my schedule to get it back on track...i tried to get up at 7:45 this morning...ha...right

Bricks

these bricks are red, dark red and almost brown. the broken edges are sharp. (they tend to break when you throw them, though they are not fragile) parts of my wall, but all "head things," not "heart things." i pick them up all day, juggling them and tossing them in the air. i got hit once...im more careful now...but am i careful enough? maybe i got hit twice...

these bricks are rough. they wear at my hands. my hands are tender, soft...and raw. they tear my hands. over and over i touch them and they tear my hands. ive been picking them up all day...and all night, its morning now.

these bricks are red. they tear my hands.

this blood is red, dark red and almost brown. the broken edges are sharp. (my heart tends to break when i throw it...it is fragile)

im just a child...and these bricks are heavy

I saw you standing there, smiling. But your smile made me sad because I knew it was not for me. So I gathered the bricks I could find, and built a wall between us. Every brick I laid was well thought out and planned. At times I would add bricks, and at times I would tear them off the wall and throw them as far as I could...but I always went to find them. The wall grew, but I never lost sight of your smile, never lost sight of your face. Finally resigned to leave the wall alone, to let it stand, our eyes met across the wall. You invited me to play with you...and you smiled for me.

So, brick by brick, I took down the wall, wincing as each brick broke when I threw it behind me. You smiled at me! I smiled back. I knew that once the wall came down, it could never really keep me again. So I climbed over the remnants of the wall and we played in the cool grass together, smiling and laughing. Then one day, you stopped smiling. Your eyes guiltily avoided mine. Panic began to race through me. "No," my heart cried, "no, don't do that, I haven't stopped loving you, don't stop loving me!"

You stopped playing, and sat quietly on the grass next to me, never looking in my eyes. We sat quietly, my heart crying "no...no" inside me. Then, finally, you looked up, looked into my eyes with yours. Did you know we have the same eyes? I saw again the sadness and guilt I feared. I didn't let you see me cry. I didn't want to leave you with that memory. I wanted you to smile again. I knew you wouldn't smile if you remembered my tears. I didn't want to hurt you. So I smiled, though my eyes burned with tears, and I climbed back over the remnants of my wall.

I will not build it back. I do not have the strength of heart, love, I do not have the strength. Again I see you smile; again I know it's not for me. But if you know only one thing, know this, my smile is for you. It always has been.

"Mother forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to...."
"....so may the sunrise bring hope that once was forgotten."
~iron & wine

ME

Your Birthdate: October 29

Your birthday on the 29th adds a tone of idealism to your nature. You are imaginative and creative, but rather uncomfortable in the business world. You are very aware and sensitive, with outstanding intuitive skills and analytical abilities. The 29 reduces to 11, one of the master numbers which often produces much nervous tension. This is the birthday of the dreamer rather than the doer. You do, however, work very well with people.

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Your #1 Match: INFP

The Idealist You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

What's Your Personality Type?

boys and bare feet

My group of friends and I had just gone to see a really great movie together. We were all standing around outside the theater...talking...joking...not wanting to break the spell that had been cast before us on the screen. My friend Kaylor and I decided to sprint around the theater because we were a little high on caffiene and sugar. We convinced Chis to play with us, so we all took off across the parking lot (me in bare feet) just for fun. Well, Chis decided he was being chased....so I decided to catch him. However, little did I realize how fast he can run...or how out of shape I am. I had to stop at the end of the parking lot....however, he continued around a building, and began to dodge and weave around the parked cars. Unable to resist the taunting...I again gave chase. Returning to the group, I decided to rest. Chis made his way cautiously back to the group, not realizing that I had given up...for the moment...I will get my revenge.

It makes me sooo happy to be able to play like I'm 8 years old again!

hes always gone too long

so may the sunrise bring hope that once was forgotten

Any Given Day

I woke, I broke free drove a long time
It didn't purge you from my mind
Hang up the halo, maybe you're right
Chalk it up to a starry night
To be set free, to live and learn
Did we pass or fail the term?
You wrote a note with chalk on my door
A message I'd known long before:
On any given day, you'll find me gone
On any given day, you'll find me gone

Give me your reason, give me your rhyme
So I can tempo me to your time
So I can scratch your surface and be
A deeper part of the mystery
To be undone, to be alone
To live life in monotone
I reach the beach and try to ignore
The warning I'd known long before
On any given day, you'll find me gone
On any given day, you'll find me gone

I've been down to the sea
I've been down to the sea
And so all of the lovers will say
Forever star-crossed will we stay
Still I can't help feeling castaway
on any given day
Still I can't help feeling you'll run away
on any given day

I window shop for you in my mind
A flannel shirt at the five and dime
A leather coat cut big city style
Boots from plastic crocodile
A pinecone dipped in glitter glue
A penny 1942
A necklace with a cheap green stone
Barefeet, cold sand. Chill to the bone

My eye on you. My eye on you.
My eye on you always

I lift my hands up, smell to reveal
Your perfume on the steering wheel
You're next to me asleep and I smile
I think I'll drive on for awhile

~Carbon Leaf

spinning too fast

it literally feels like ive been spinning in circles faster and faster, then immediately changing directions....all weekend. i feel nauseated, physically sick. i have felt sick ever since i had that talk with stuart. ive felt like throwing up all night....all weekend.

we are such children. i like being a child. growing up holds no appeal...at all. i retreat into my mind, my world where i can stay friends with these people that i love, they never leave, we never have to grow up and go our separate ways. why cant we stay this way? i have always believed my greatest enemy is time. i have yet to find a reason to think otherwise.

"time, time, time
never makes you better,
just bitter,
just bitter,
as hell.
tonight tonight
i wanna feel better,
better
for a while"
~East Buddha

away...im bound away...

last night was okay....we watched pulp fiction....fun stuff. as i was walking, alone, back to carter...stupid, far away carter...i stopped. standing there in the middle of the chapel lawn, i looked up at the sky.....the chill of the night and the clarity of the stars made me want to run. run away, run through the woods. not stop...keep going....never stop. how many times have i wanted to do this? how many times will i want to run?

why cant i actually run away? there is nothing stopping me from packing up some things, food, money....and just leaving.
i wish i could stay at covenant over the summer. stay in the apartments....or mac....all summer...work and be with friends. live on my own....i dont want to depend on my parents anymore....ever. i want to make a world on top of this mountain and never have to leave....some people actually succeed in this.

i struggle....how close and supporting can i be to a guy friend before it becomes more than just friends? how close will he allow me to get without feeling like i am trying to....i dont know...seduce him or something? make myself such a staple and a fixture in his life that he will never be able to leave me? will i ever escape this? will i ever be able to say 'no?' ever?

to satiate my wanderlust, i sprinted behind the chapel, through the wildness of the night....but i couldnt continue. i wanted to keep going, through the woods, follow a stream, down the mountain....and then come home. this is home, this is where those i love are living.

release the wolves

my world is spinning...faster and faster...things have been thrown about and i cant tell whats happening. i know ive been hurt, i just cant feel it yet...im still numb. pain can be good sometimes...but it still hurts. rejection and abandonment hurt...but its not rejection and abandonment....someone is just trying to tell me it is...trying to make me lose hope, trying to hurt me and make me lose heart. soon things will slow down...stop spinning....settle. then i can assess the damage (if any)...pick up the pieces and keep going...i will always keep going, for my strength doesnt come from me but from my Father. im starting to think the damage wont be that bad....
we used each other...we felt too alone to handle it anymore...we had each other. and i lost something too precious to lose. i lost my connection with God. i knew that i was well outside His will for me...i knew he was not what God wanted for me. God wants me to wait...for something.

there is a small child in me that wants to kick and scream and throw things, to cry and lose hope. the other part of me lets that small child loose within herself and allows her to hurt me. and i sit and let it hurt because i know that there are times i must go through pain. but it is always going through...never in. there is always hope because i know that my world will not end...my world is too big and strong to end. my world is God.

i feel like im walking out of the dentist's office again. i had just had a tooth filled, and hadnt really reacted that badly....i hate pain and if i was going to cry, i expected to cry during or right before....but no. i walk out of the office and immediately break down into uncontrollable tears. he had hurt me. the physical pain was nothing i couldnt handle...but he had hurt me. i cried because i had been hurt, not because of the pain. it astounds me.

right now, im okay. but my world is in grave danger of spinning out of control again...

i am mad at myself because i did it again. i went my own way. i tried to control things. like a 2yr old trying to drive a car. imagine the parent's frustration when the 2yr old takes ahold of the steering wheel, and the parent cant take it back, because the parent has given the child free will. now imagine the pain because the parent knows exactly how and when this child will be hurt...knows if he will lose his precious daughter...knows the scars she is about to inflict upon herself...but she cannot truly be his if he does not give her the choice. i have been given the choice...the choice is always there...the steering wheel so inviting, so tempting.

"He heals the brokenhearted
And binds up their wounds"
Psalm 147:3

um.....wow

wow. so yeah...stuart and i are sorta dating now. amazing what a bonfire and talking til 6am can do. in the space of a few hours, my world has taken a drastic turn.....for better? for worse? we'll see. this morning around 8 am, my roommate announced her engagement to her bf. not like they already had the church and the reception place set though. and by this time i had had only about 2hrs of sleep...so i was like....thats great, now lemme sleep. good grief! we all already knew you were going to marry him...why is this such a big deal??

so here i sit contemplating the situation i have found myself in....when i should be writing a paper...or two....so im gonna be responsible now and go.

why?

every day i feel her slip further. hold on, love.
every day he pulls her deeper. fight strong, love.
every day his grip is stronger. im here, love.

why cant he see her pain?
why cant she feel her heart again?

one of my poems....ok, my only poem

i wrote this a good year ago....it's not pertaining to anything recent...i dont think...

Oh my love, please don't cry
I didn't see the crimson stain before my blinded eye
Until the golden morning light restored to me my sight
Held captive from the shining day by shadows of the night
Aware was I my claws were sharp, though I thought them sheathed
Yet in the dark I cannot see the bloody lines they leave
Gentle caress I thought to give
With hands stained scarlet must I now live
No league of water can wash away
These crimson marks unveiled by light of day
If all the seas were drained,
And all the clouds had rained,
Never shall this blood be washed away.