I love you honey
you know I really do
I love you with my whole heart
I love you through and through
I love you sweetie
you're the frosting to my cake
without you there would be no sun
no moon by which to wake
I love you honey
no you would mean no me
I love you deeper than I can swim
and much farther than I can see
I love you sweetie
and all your baggage too
but most of all honey
I love you 'cuz you're you
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
John, a middle aged man, a bit gray here and there, is about to make the discovery of a lifetime. He bends down, his foggy breath slightly warming is frostbitten nose as he wipes away some of the snow built up on top of the ice. John pulls his parka tighter around his chest and with a gloved hand motions the woman to his right to come see.
"Honey," he calls. "Come take a look at this."
The woman looks up from her maps and joins her husband crouching over the frozen lake.
"What is it?" she inquires.
"I don't know.." his voice trails off as his gray eyes meet her blue ones. Sticking at least two inches out of the ice is a bone. A claw to be precise. A delicate, deadly weapon attached to something of which the world has forgotten.
A volcano erupts with the ferocity of a pack of starved molten wolves, racing for a bite of the sky. People scatter in all directions. In all the commotion and screaming no one, except one little girl, notices what is happening to the mountain. She stands, barefoot, in the middle of the street oblivious to the chaos around her. Eyes wide with terror stare at the hulking mass making its way out of the earth. It looms over the edge of the volcano, smoking. She screams as her mother deftly lifts her up while running away from the danger, away from the monster.
"Honey," he calls. "Come take a look at this."
The woman looks up from her maps and joins her husband crouching over the frozen lake.
"What is it?" she inquires.
"I don't know.." his voice trails off as his gray eyes meet her blue ones. Sticking at least two inches out of the ice is a bone. A claw to be precise. A delicate, deadly weapon attached to something of which the world has forgotten.
A volcano erupts with the ferocity of a pack of starved molten wolves, racing for a bite of the sky. People scatter in all directions. In all the commotion and screaming no one, except one little girl, notices what is happening to the mountain. She stands, barefoot, in the middle of the street oblivious to the chaos around her. Eyes wide with terror stare at the hulking mass making its way out of the earth. It looms over the edge of the volcano, smoking. She screams as her mother deftly lifts her up while running away from the danger, away from the monster.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thanksgiving
Friday's here
Time to cheer
Its finally break
and we can eat cake
Roast the turkey
Broil the ham
Thanksgiving has come
Come get you some!
Time to cheer
Its finally break
and we can eat cake
Roast the turkey
Broil the ham
Thanksgiving has come
Come get you some!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Notice
- 12:31 : I can hear my heartbeat, its irregular. Not perfect. Can't keep time with that. When I move, it pauses for an instant.
- 12:36 : It's raining. It has been for about two hours now. Calm, quiet, rain.
- 12:37 : Can everyone hear music like I can? I mean I'll hear a song on the radio twice and will be able to sing at least some part of it. And then it'll just pop into my head, clear as day but quiet, in the background.
- 12:42 : Alright, time for bed.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The Lightning Strike, Snow Patrol
Part I
What if this storm ends
and I don't see you
as you are now
ever again
a perfect halo
of gold hair and lightning
sets you up against
the planet's last dance
just for a minute
the silver forked sky
lit you up like a star
that I will follow
but now it's found us
like I have found you
I don't wanna run
just overwhelm me
If this storm ends
and leaves us nothing
except a memory
a distant echo
I want pinned down
I want unsettle
rattle cage after cage
until my blood boils
I wanna see you
as you are now
every single day
that I am living
paint it in flames
all peeling thunder
be a lightning in me
that strikes relentless
What if this storm ends
and I don't see you
as you are now
ever again
the perfect halo
of gold hair and lightning
sets you up against
the planet's last dance
just for a minute
the silver forked sky
lit you up like a star
that I will follow
and now its found us
like I have found you
I don't wanna run
just overwhelm me
Part II
From here the caravans are kid's toys
and I can hold them all in my palm
I watch the sea creep 'round the corner
connects the dots from here to you
the sunlight burning through the loose flags
painted high on white church walls
I chase my blood from brain to thumped heart
until I'm out of breath for trying
worry not every thing is sound
this is the safest place you found
the only noise beating out is ours
lacing our tea from honey jars
These accidents of faith and nature
they tend to stick in the spokes of you
but every now and then the trend bucks
and you're repaired by more than glue
worry not every thing is sound
this is the safest place you found
the only noise beating out is ours
lacing our tea from honey jars
why don't you rest your fragile bones
a minute ago you looked alone
stop wavin' your arms your safe and dry
breathe in and drink up the winter sky
Part III
slowly the day breaks apart in our hands
and soft hallelujahs flow in from the church
the one on the corner you siad frightened you
it was too dark and too large to find your soul in
somethin' was bound to go right sometime today
all these broken pieces fit together to make a perfect picture us
it got cold then dark so suddenly it rained
it rained so hard the two of us were the only thing
that we could
see for miles and miles
and in the middle of the flood I felt my worth
when you held onto me like I was your little life raft
please know
that you where mine as well
drops of water hit the ground like god's own tears
and spread out into shapes like salad bowls and basins
and buckets
for bailin' out the flood
As motionless cars rust on drive ways and curves
you take off your raincoat and stretch out your arms
we both laugh out loud and surrender to it
the sheer force of sky and the cold magnet earth
somethin' was bound to go right sometime today
all these broken pieces fit together to make a perfect picture us
it got cold then dark so suddenly it rained
it rained so hard the two of us were the only thing
that we could
see for miles and miles
and in the middle of the flood I felt my worth
when you held onto me like I was your little life raft
please know
that you where mine as well
drops of water hit the ground like god's own tears
and spread out into shapes like salad bowls and basins
and buckets
for bailin' out the flood
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Listen
Listen.
I heard, although I tried my best not to, the crack of the whip. I heard the grunt of a man in pain. I heard him say "Aba" in a hoarse whisper after the sting. I could not bear to watch so I hid my face in my husbands shoulder. My silent tears slid down his cool skin as his arms came around me.
"Shh," he comforted, "it will be alright."
How could it possibly be alright ever again? My husband, Kosey, and I had been stolen. Stolen from the land our ancestors had lived on, died on. I cried harder as I remembered the life we had had together before the white devils came.
We lived in a house surrounded by a wall, there was plenty of room within the wall for other buildings that would eventually spring up with our family, but for now there was only one house. Our house was within the village and all the men had helped construct it when Kosey and I got married. We were very happy with our new life together until the white men came.
We heard the news from the Bird Man one evening. He was the eldest and wisest man in our village, with long hair the color of starlight. He told the village that the people of the coast had seen ships approaching, large ships with sails like clouds. These ships beached and strange men spewed forth from their decks. The Bird Man said that the people of the coast had seen these strange men move inland, destroying everything in their path.
I was frightened by what the Bird Man had said, but I did not believe we were in any danger. The men did not think so either.
"We have nothing to fear from these men!" shouted one of the younger men. "We are strong enough to keep ourselves safe!"
The Bird Man held up a hand. "Do not underestimate these men," he cautioned. "The people of the coast called them devils. They said that when these white men spoke it was like the hiss of a serpent and the roar of a lion as one. They are many, and they carry strange weapons. We must all take precautions against these creatures."
Later that evening I awoke with a start and felt in the darkness for Kosey. Feeling that something was wrong I was relieved when I felt his arm near mine. Quietly, so as not to wake him, I slipped out of bed and padded my way to the doorway. There was a faint glow behind the curtain that we used for a door and I pulled it aside slightly. What I saw, I will never forget. Behind our walls our village was burning. I could see the flames high in the moonless sky, lapping up my friends' and neighbors' houses.
My hand came to my mouth as I gasped in fright at the sight of four or five large men, silhouetted against the fire, enter our compound. I ran back to my husband and shook him awake.
"Kosey, Kosey! There are men outside!" I cried. He jumped out of bed, pulling me behind him. Just as he was reaching for his knife a man tore down the curtain in our doorway. I screamed as Kosey lunged, knife in hand, yelling, at the man. The man let out a yell of his own in pain as the knife cut through his arm. More men entered and rushed towards us. One dove for Kosey, taking him down and throwing me to the side as well. I landed face down on the floor and struggled to get up. A white man pushed me back down with his knee as he tried to tie my flailing arms together. I heard Kosey struggling over my own screaming as he tried to fight off the men pinning him down. Eventually the man had my hands tied and he roughly pulled me up. I kicked and screamed, trying to get away. He yelled something I could not understand and slapped me, hard, across my face. With tears rolling down my cheeks I was thrown outside and Kosey followed close behind. He also had his hands tied and had a gash in his thigh. We were pushed out into the village center where the white men were tying people together. I could barely see through my tears as I was roughly passed from person to person. I felt myself being tied to a taught rope but could only stand in shock. The person tied behind me leaned close and whispered, "Do not worry my darling, I am here." It was Kosey; I turned as far as I could and clung to him.
It was not long before we started moving. Pulled along by the rope, we walked into the darkness of the night with the fire from our village at our backs. I do not remember much of that long walk. Eventually I stopped crying and numbly put one foot in front of the other. I do remember that when we finally reached the coast I almost fell down with exhaustion. The white men hauled us aboard the monstrous boat. I turned at the yells of the white men down on the ground. They had caught a man trying to escape and were now forcing him onto the ship.
One of the white men who was already on board smiled. He would make the man who tried to escape an example for us, right there on the deck. This white man had long brown hair that was pulled back from his face. A coiled whip hung from his belt.
Below deck I found myself in shackles lying down on a sort of shelf. The air was filled with the moans of the dying and the stench of the dead. Thankfully, I was on the part of the shelf near the walkway so I had some air to breathe. Many were not so lucky. Little children were crushed by adults clawing for what little air and space they could get. The white men did not come down below the decks often; the smell is what probably deterred them. Kosey was separated from me at this time and I worried for his, as well as for my own survival of this wretched place.
We spent somewhere close to two months at sea. I prayed to Allah above that everyday would be our last on the ship. Wherever we were going had to be better than this place.
One day the ship stopped moving; I saw the light of the sun from an opening where the white men were coming below deck. They started to pull people off of the shelves. Long strings of people chained together were half dragged up the ladder to the sunshine. I could see that almost all of the people at the end of the chains were dead. A white man finally got to my row and roughly pulled me out; I was so happy that I was finally leaving this hell. I was so weak I could barely stand, but with fortitude I lumbered along to the ladder with my companions in chains.
Ah, the sun, my long lost friend. Blinking in his light above deck, I searched for my husband. I could not find him anywhere. I did not have long to look though as we were being separated into groups. Our chains were removed although the shackles were left, cutting into the flesh of our wrists.
We were bustled into little groups of four and five, men on one side and women on the other. Our captives led us off of the boat and into a harbor. More ships than I had ever seen were tied up to planks of wood that seemed to be floating above the water. We walked down one of these walkways and it made me nervous. Strange houses were built all along the water. We were led between two of these pointy buildings into a gathering of people. This was the first time any of us had ever seen a white woman or child. I did not know it was possible; these men became a little more human in my eyes.
One group at a time was pushed up on a platform at the center of the crowd of people, all gazing at them. A white man yelled out a lot of things to the crowd and they yelled things back at him. The whole thing reminded me of when a man wanted to sell something, like a goat of a few chickens, in the village. He would go to the center of town and other men would come and offer him money, or goods for his animals. Now we were the animals.
I saw him. Kosey was in the group of men up on the platform. I tried to call out to him, but all that came from my mouth was a coarse whisper. Tears filled me eyes as I struggled to be heard over the men yelling around me.
"Kosey, Kosey!" escaped as a moan when I saw his group led off the platform by a white man. He was with a woman and a child who shied away from my kinsmen. The tears flowed freely and I blindly stepped up onto the platform.
With much shouting our group of women was sold, like livestock, and split to different white men. The man who purchased me had yellow hair like straw under a black hat. His fave was kind, which made me distrustful having only seen white men with lust and greed in their eyes. This man's eyes though, were a deep blue, like the ocean, and only sheltered calm. He spoke softly to me in a language I could not understand. With a motion of his hand to follow him he led me out of the crowd and further into the big village.
The man stopped beside two large horses tied up to a kind of cart. It was strange for me to see these creatures tied for they ran free back in my homeland, but here it seemed the men used them to ride around. In the cart sat a woman and two children, a boy and a girl. The woman stood and I could see a kindness in her fave as well. Unlike her husband she had dark brown hair, nearly black, and hazel eyes, She motioned me to come up onto the cart and I did so cautiously. She reached out a hand towards me and I flinched as she gently laid it on my cheek.
Life has been good living with the Rivers family. Mrs. Rivers taught me English and even how to read a little. Mr. Rivers is the son of a plantation owner and we live on his father's land. Everyday he goes into town to his clinic; he's the only doctor around. Cooking and cleaning are my main two jobs, but I also watch over the children, feed the chickens, and do other small chores. I have come to accept my fate here in America, though I still weep in the night for my home land and my husband. The Rivers' are my family now, and I love them so. They are good to me. Emily is sixteen now and William is twelve, it is a shock to realize that I have been here for ten years now. In the evening Emily and I sit on the porch and I brush out her long dark hair, like her mother's. She talks to me about everything, I think of her as my own daughter.
Mrs. Rivers says that I need to find a good man. I insist that I already have a good man and will always have one. I miss him dearly. For the rest of my life I will never forget what our life together was like. Our life in Africa.
I heard, although I tried my best not to, the crack of the whip. I heard the grunt of a man in pain. I heard him say "Aba" in a hoarse whisper after the sting. I could not bear to watch so I hid my face in my husbands shoulder. My silent tears slid down his cool skin as his arms came around me.
"Shh," he comforted, "it will be alright."
How could it possibly be alright ever again? My husband, Kosey, and I had been stolen. Stolen from the land our ancestors had lived on, died on. I cried harder as I remembered the life we had had together before the white devils came.
We lived in a house surrounded by a wall, there was plenty of room within the wall for other buildings that would eventually spring up with our family, but for now there was only one house. Our house was within the village and all the men had helped construct it when Kosey and I got married. We were very happy with our new life together until the white men came.
We heard the news from the Bird Man one evening. He was the eldest and wisest man in our village, with long hair the color of starlight. He told the village that the people of the coast had seen ships approaching, large ships with sails like clouds. These ships beached and strange men spewed forth from their decks. The Bird Man said that the people of the coast had seen these strange men move inland, destroying everything in their path.
I was frightened by what the Bird Man had said, but I did not believe we were in any danger. The men did not think so either.
"We have nothing to fear from these men!" shouted one of the younger men. "We are strong enough to keep ourselves safe!"
The Bird Man held up a hand. "Do not underestimate these men," he cautioned. "The people of the coast called them devils. They said that when these white men spoke it was like the hiss of a serpent and the roar of a lion as one. They are many, and they carry strange weapons. We must all take precautions against these creatures."
Later that evening I awoke with a start and felt in the darkness for Kosey. Feeling that something was wrong I was relieved when I felt his arm near mine. Quietly, so as not to wake him, I slipped out of bed and padded my way to the doorway. There was a faint glow behind the curtain that we used for a door and I pulled it aside slightly. What I saw, I will never forget. Behind our walls our village was burning. I could see the flames high in the moonless sky, lapping up my friends' and neighbors' houses.
My hand came to my mouth as I gasped in fright at the sight of four or five large men, silhouetted against the fire, enter our compound. I ran back to my husband and shook him awake.
"Kosey, Kosey! There are men outside!" I cried. He jumped out of bed, pulling me behind him. Just as he was reaching for his knife a man tore down the curtain in our doorway. I screamed as Kosey lunged, knife in hand, yelling, at the man. The man let out a yell of his own in pain as the knife cut through his arm. More men entered and rushed towards us. One dove for Kosey, taking him down and throwing me to the side as well. I landed face down on the floor and struggled to get up. A white man pushed me back down with his knee as he tried to tie my flailing arms together. I heard Kosey struggling over my own screaming as he tried to fight off the men pinning him down. Eventually the man had my hands tied and he roughly pulled me up. I kicked and screamed, trying to get away. He yelled something I could not understand and slapped me, hard, across my face. With tears rolling down my cheeks I was thrown outside and Kosey followed close behind. He also had his hands tied and had a gash in his thigh. We were pushed out into the village center where the white men were tying people together. I could barely see through my tears as I was roughly passed from person to person. I felt myself being tied to a taught rope but could only stand in shock. The person tied behind me leaned close and whispered, "Do not worry my darling, I am here." It was Kosey; I turned as far as I could and clung to him.
It was not long before we started moving. Pulled along by the rope, we walked into the darkness of the night with the fire from our village at our backs. I do not remember much of that long walk. Eventually I stopped crying and numbly put one foot in front of the other. I do remember that when we finally reached the coast I almost fell down with exhaustion. The white men hauled us aboard the monstrous boat. I turned at the yells of the white men down on the ground. They had caught a man trying to escape and were now forcing him onto the ship.
One of the white men who was already on board smiled. He would make the man who tried to escape an example for us, right there on the deck. This white man had long brown hair that was pulled back from his face. A coiled whip hung from his belt.
Below deck I found myself in shackles lying down on a sort of shelf. The air was filled with the moans of the dying and the stench of the dead. Thankfully, I was on the part of the shelf near the walkway so I had some air to breathe. Many were not so lucky. Little children were crushed by adults clawing for what little air and space they could get. The white men did not come down below the decks often; the smell is what probably deterred them. Kosey was separated from me at this time and I worried for his, as well as for my own survival of this wretched place.
We spent somewhere close to two months at sea. I prayed to Allah above that everyday would be our last on the ship. Wherever we were going had to be better than this place.
One day the ship stopped moving; I saw the light of the sun from an opening where the white men were coming below deck. They started to pull people off of the shelves. Long strings of people chained together were half dragged up the ladder to the sunshine. I could see that almost all of the people at the end of the chains were dead. A white man finally got to my row and roughly pulled me out; I was so happy that I was finally leaving this hell. I was so weak I could barely stand, but with fortitude I lumbered along to the ladder with my companions in chains.
Ah, the sun, my long lost friend. Blinking in his light above deck, I searched for my husband. I could not find him anywhere. I did not have long to look though as we were being separated into groups. Our chains were removed although the shackles were left, cutting into the flesh of our wrists.
We were bustled into little groups of four and five, men on one side and women on the other. Our captives led us off of the boat and into a harbor. More ships than I had ever seen were tied up to planks of wood that seemed to be floating above the water. We walked down one of these walkways and it made me nervous. Strange houses were built all along the water. We were led between two of these pointy buildings into a gathering of people. This was the first time any of us had ever seen a white woman or child. I did not know it was possible; these men became a little more human in my eyes.
One group at a time was pushed up on a platform at the center of the crowd of people, all gazing at them. A white man yelled out a lot of things to the crowd and they yelled things back at him. The whole thing reminded me of when a man wanted to sell something, like a goat of a few chickens, in the village. He would go to the center of town and other men would come and offer him money, or goods for his animals. Now we were the animals.
I saw him. Kosey was in the group of men up on the platform. I tried to call out to him, but all that came from my mouth was a coarse whisper. Tears filled me eyes as I struggled to be heard over the men yelling around me.
"Kosey, Kosey!" escaped as a moan when I saw his group led off the platform by a white man. He was with a woman and a child who shied away from my kinsmen. The tears flowed freely and I blindly stepped up onto the platform.
With much shouting our group of women was sold, like livestock, and split to different white men. The man who purchased me had yellow hair like straw under a black hat. His fave was kind, which made me distrustful having only seen white men with lust and greed in their eyes. This man's eyes though, were a deep blue, like the ocean, and only sheltered calm. He spoke softly to me in a language I could not understand. With a motion of his hand to follow him he led me out of the crowd and further into the big village.
The man stopped beside two large horses tied up to a kind of cart. It was strange for me to see these creatures tied for they ran free back in my homeland, but here it seemed the men used them to ride around. In the cart sat a woman and two children, a boy and a girl. The woman stood and I could see a kindness in her fave as well. Unlike her husband she had dark brown hair, nearly black, and hazel eyes, She motioned me to come up onto the cart and I did so cautiously. She reached out a hand towards me and I flinched as she gently laid it on my cheek.
Life has been good living with the Rivers family. Mrs. Rivers taught me English and even how to read a little. Mr. Rivers is the son of a plantation owner and we live on his father's land. Everyday he goes into town to his clinic; he's the only doctor around. Cooking and cleaning are my main two jobs, but I also watch over the children, feed the chickens, and do other small chores. I have come to accept my fate here in America, though I still weep in the night for my home land and my husband. The Rivers' are my family now, and I love them so. They are good to me. Emily is sixteen now and William is twelve, it is a shock to realize that I have been here for ten years now. In the evening Emily and I sit on the porch and I brush out her long dark hair, like her mother's. She talks to me about everything, I think of her as my own daughter.
Mrs. Rivers says that I need to find a good man. I insist that I already have a good man and will always have one. I miss him dearly. For the rest of my life I will never forget what our life together was like. Our life in Africa.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
CREED!
CREED!!
The most awesomely awesome concert I have ever been to! Ah, super cool.. Jesse and my mom and I went last night and had a blast. Lopro (sp?) opened for them then Staind came out and played for aboutt... an hour I guess then they set up the stage for 20 minutes then out came CREED! Woohoo! They started with Bullets, and continued to jam for a while. Then they left the stage and Jesse said, "Noone's leaving until you guys play at least 5 more songs." ^^ Everyone was cheering and "Wooo"ing and finally they came back ^^ The last three songs they played rocked ^^ They ended with Higher (which was perfect) and almost everyone in the Cajun Dome was standing.
Ahh, so great. Jesse got me a poster and a keychain :] We had a great time, it was his first concert and my second and I'm glad we got to share it.
The most awesomely awesome concert I have ever been to! Ah, super cool.. Jesse and my mom and I went last night and had a blast. Lopro (sp?) opened for them then Staind came out and played for aboutt... an hour I guess then they set up the stage for 20 minutes then out came CREED! Woohoo! They started with Bullets, and continued to jam for a while. Then they left the stage and Jesse said, "Noone's leaving until you guys play at least 5 more songs." ^^ Everyone was cheering and "Wooo"ing and finally they came back ^^ The last three songs they played rocked ^^ They ended with Higher (which was perfect) and almost everyone in the Cajun Dome was standing.
Ahh, so great. Jesse got me a poster and a keychain :] We had a great time, it was his first concert and my second and I'm glad we got to share it.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Why?
This is the question that I often pose to God. I never get a direct answer. No voices in my head, no burning bushes, I am no Moses. But I still ask.. Why God, Why? And How? And Where, where are you when people need you the most. (He never leaves, we just lose sight for a little while.)
Why do these things happen
How could you allow them to
Where did you go
Three questions that I cannot answer. But Lord, I try. I try, I try. I converse with others to see if they have answers, and sometimes they do, and I believe them.. Then something happens again and these Questions resurface.
Ever feel like you just need to let out a shout to the heavens? I wish I could, but unfortunately I would wake people up just now. But it is so frustrating.. not having the answers, having these things happen, again and again and again... Damn it..
And it was only earlier today when I thought "Fuck Trigonometry".. seems naive.
Writing helps though.. thank goodness.
I've heard that people who have been sad or depressed for a while tend to keep becoming sad and depressed. We fall back into what is comfortable, what we know, what we can handle. When we are happy we don't know what to do.. I've been thinking about that for a week or so now, when a girl in one of my classes came in crying two days in a row. I wanted to feel sad for her, then I felt myself Wanting to feel sad just for the sake of it. Because it is comfortable, I have been there, I know that place. That thought scared me.. "No" "I am not going back there" That place is not fun.. If there isn't anyone around you could get lost..
That's why talking, writing, drawing, whatever, anything that is a release is so important. I wrote when I was in that place, and no it wasn't all happy-go-lucky kind of stuff, but it helped.
Talking is the best thing for me though. Its weird I feel more at ease to talk to someone I know, but not on a real personal level. Like I don't talk to my parents about personal stuff much at all, some people can do that but not me.. Talking to someone, anyone is the biggest release for me.
I don't want to go there again.. but it feels like I'm being pulled you know? We're watching Hotel Rwanda in Af. Am. Studies.. which is sad. I needed (and got :] ) a hug after 5th period. Then I learn that a good friend of mine's parents are getting a divorce.. Then one of my best friends has a breakdown (for lack of a better word) and I don't even know about it. Ah, I feel like I need to cry, but I don't want to.. Why do these things happen? Dammit why?
I need to go ride my bike.. but unfortunately its the middle of the night lol :]
I'll ride it tomorrow, in the sunshine.
.
Why do these things happen
How could you allow them to
Where did you go
Three questions that I cannot answer. But Lord, I try. I try, I try. I converse with others to see if they have answers, and sometimes they do, and I believe them.. Then something happens again and these Questions resurface.
Ever feel like you just need to let out a shout to the heavens? I wish I could, but unfortunately I would wake people up just now. But it is so frustrating.. not having the answers, having these things happen, again and again and again... Damn it..
And it was only earlier today when I thought "Fuck Trigonometry".. seems naive.
Writing helps though.. thank goodness.
I've heard that people who have been sad or depressed for a while tend to keep becoming sad and depressed. We fall back into what is comfortable, what we know, what we can handle. When we are happy we don't know what to do.. I've been thinking about that for a week or so now, when a girl in one of my classes came in crying two days in a row. I wanted to feel sad for her, then I felt myself Wanting to feel sad just for the sake of it. Because it is comfortable, I have been there, I know that place. That thought scared me.. "No" "I am not going back there" That place is not fun.. If there isn't anyone around you could get lost..
That's why talking, writing, drawing, whatever, anything that is a release is so important. I wrote when I was in that place, and no it wasn't all happy-go-lucky kind of stuff, but it helped.
Talking is the best thing for me though. Its weird I feel more at ease to talk to someone I know, but not on a real personal level. Like I don't talk to my parents about personal stuff much at all, some people can do that but not me.. Talking to someone, anyone is the biggest release for me.
I don't want to go there again.. but it feels like I'm being pulled you know? We're watching Hotel Rwanda in Af. Am. Studies.. which is sad. I needed (and got :] ) a hug after 5th period. Then I learn that a good friend of mine's parents are getting a divorce.. Then one of my best friends has a breakdown (for lack of a better word) and I don't even know about it. Ah, I feel like I need to cry, but I don't want to.. Why do these things happen? Dammit why?
I need to go ride my bike.. but unfortunately its the middle of the night lol :]
I'll ride it tomorrow, in the sunshine.
.
Monday, September 7, 2009
postsecret
heheh,
I like the Liam Neeson one ^^
(and would be thrilled if this was true!)
This is now the background of my computer ^^
I like the Liam Neeson one ^^
(and would be thrilled if this was true!)
This is now the background of my computer ^^
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The Myth of Tau
Now Tau was the spirit of the trees. She loved the way the wind swept across her green leafy branches. But what Tau loved even more than that was looking at her green leafy branches. She was known to inhabit a cypress tree for three years, staring at her reflection in the pond that it sat in.
Gaea, mother Earth, was not too pleased that Tau was so vain about her leaves. Gaea decided to teach Tau a lesson. So Gaea went over to Tau's favorite cypress tree and sure enough there was Tau, peering into the depths of her own reflection.
"Tau!" Gaea called, "Don't you think you could be doing something more efficient with your time?"
Tau didn't answer. In fact she hadn't even noticed that Gaea was there. Gaea raised her rosy fingers of dawn and sent a cold wind towards Tau. Little by little Tau's leaves changed from dark green to red, orange and yellow. At first Tau was shocked to see her beautiful leaves changing colors. Then, after a little getting used to, Tau was elated.
"Thank you Gaea!" she exclaimed. "These colors are even better than my old one!"
"This was not supposed to happen." Gaea thought. So the exasperated Gaea sent an even colder wind at Tau.
This time Tau's leaves did not change color. This time they fell off all together. Tau yelled in fright. "What have you done? I am hideous!" she cried.
"Now you will have to live with your ugliness each year Tau, to remind you not to be vain." explained Gaea. Gaea wasn't heartless though, she let the trees that grew high up in the mountains retain their green color year round. So in the winter Tau would visit the trees in the mountains, but she could not see her reflection in any river, pond nor lake, because thy were all frozen over. She still visits her favorite cypress tree and sits, looking at her reflection, but not for too long.
Written for Mythology class, I'm pretty good at coming up with these if I do say so myself ^^
Gaea, mother Earth, was not too pleased that Tau was so vain about her leaves. Gaea decided to teach Tau a lesson. So Gaea went over to Tau's favorite cypress tree and sure enough there was Tau, peering into the depths of her own reflection.
"Tau!" Gaea called, "Don't you think you could be doing something more efficient with your time?"
Tau didn't answer. In fact she hadn't even noticed that Gaea was there. Gaea raised her rosy fingers of dawn and sent a cold wind towards Tau. Little by little Tau's leaves changed from dark green to red, orange and yellow. At first Tau was shocked to see her beautiful leaves changing colors. Then, after a little getting used to, Tau was elated.
"Thank you Gaea!" she exclaimed. "These colors are even better than my old one!"
"This was not supposed to happen." Gaea thought. So the exasperated Gaea sent an even colder wind at Tau.
This time Tau's leaves did not change color. This time they fell off all together. Tau yelled in fright. "What have you done? I am hideous!" she cried.
"Now you will have to live with your ugliness each year Tau, to remind you not to be vain." explained Gaea. Gaea wasn't heartless though, she let the trees that grew high up in the mountains retain their green color year round. So in the winter Tau would visit the trees in the mountains, but she could not see her reflection in any river, pond nor lake, because thy were all frozen over. She still visits her favorite cypress tree and sits, looking at her reflection, but not for too long.
Written for Mythology class, I'm pretty good at coming up with these if I do say so myself ^^
Monday, June 22, 2009
Comfort ("Hi! My name is Aimee and I can connect my xbox to my laptop! but apparently it signs out of aim and doesn't sign back in..)
Comfort. Peace. Weightlessness. That's exactly what I felt when I turned on my ipod. I was sitting in the back of my dad's pickup rolling through the planes of West Texas. The piano flowed like the gentle hills out the window. The sun was only about a hands breadth from the horizon, and I knew it was going to be a long day. The tambourine in the background accentuated the bumps in the road as our dusty truck made its way past cattle, windmills, and sometimes even antelope. I had my feet up on the dashboard and my green and grey socks made a reflection in the windshield. I started humming the nonsense words that were penetrating my head and reached down under my seat for the paper. Dad always brought the newspaper with him, and he had some pencils in the glove box too. I pulled out the comics and puzzles and stashed the rest back under the seat. Sitting up, I took out a pencil and started to work on the crossword. I had gotten about a fourth of the way done when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I pulled out an earphone.
"We're going to stop for gas at the next town."
"Okay," I replied and started to pull on my shoes. We exited, and pulled up to a little Texaco station right off the highway. I switched songs and put on some experimental rock. As Dad was filling the tank I had hopped into the back of the truck in search of my book sack. I pulled my camera out of the front pouch and looked around. There wasn't much to look at, just a few buildings and not much plant life. Nodding my head in rhythm to the music I hopped back out and examined the gas station more closely. I snapped a few pictures of the top of the building and the blue sky. Of course I had to get one of me brandishing my peace sign. I put my camera in my pocket, and air guitar-ed my way over to Dad.
He was just placing the hose back in its holder. "Okay," he said "ready?" I nodded in reply and we were off again.
"I'm always hopin' for a good time, never happens on a Tuesday night," sang the voice from my ipod. I smiled. It just so happened to be a Tuesday. ***Woah.. today is tuesday.....freaky***
We drove until we finally hit New Mexico. Dad pulled over and he took a picture of me standing under the "Welcome" sign. ***Note: writing this is making me miss New Mexico, its a really beautiful state. Looking at the map on Google is almost too much.. I see where we drove through last time. :.[ (All this heartsickness could be attributed to the song I'm currently listening too.. hmm..)*** It was about supper time and my stomach growled as we flew past plateau after plateau. Dad promised that we would stop at the next town that looked like it could hold a diner. That put me on the lookout. Finally we found a town, Logan, right on the edge of a state park. Thankfully they had a Dairy Queen. I got my hamburger and ice cream and sat down at a table on the side of the restaurant. Dad followed and sat on the other side of the table. As I was gleefully munching on my food he asked, "Good?"
"Yeah!" I replied.
"Good." He dipped a french fry in his ketchup and used it to spread some of the red tomato blood on his hamburger. "We should reach the cabin late tonight. Depending on the roads we might have to stay the night in town. You're uncle was telling me that when he went they were pretty bad."
"Did they have a lot of snow?" I asked.
"Yeah, and it's snowed since then. They might not have gotten the snow plow up the road to the cabin."
"Hmm.. shovels?" I offered.
He laughed. "Hopefully not." We finished our burgers and got back on the road.
"We're going to stop for gas at the next town."
"Okay," I replied and started to pull on my shoes. We exited, and pulled up to a little Texaco station right off the highway. I switched songs and put on some experimental rock. As Dad was filling the tank I had hopped into the back of the truck in search of my book sack. I pulled my camera out of the front pouch and looked around. There wasn't much to look at, just a few buildings and not much plant life. Nodding my head in rhythm to the music I hopped back out and examined the gas station more closely. I snapped a few pictures of the top of the building and the blue sky. Of course I had to get one of me brandishing my peace sign. I put my camera in my pocket, and air guitar-ed my way over to Dad.
He was just placing the hose back in its holder. "Okay," he said "ready?" I nodded in reply and we were off again.
"I'm always hopin' for a good time, never happens on a Tuesday night," sang the voice from my ipod. I smiled. It just so happened to be a Tuesday. ***Woah.. today is tuesday.....freaky***
We drove until we finally hit New Mexico. Dad pulled over and he took a picture of me standing under the "Welcome" sign. ***Note: writing this is making me miss New Mexico, its a really beautiful state. Looking at the map on Google is almost too much.. I see where we drove through last time. :.[ (All this heartsickness could be attributed to the song I'm currently listening too.. hmm..)*** It was about supper time and my stomach growled as we flew past plateau after plateau. Dad promised that we would stop at the next town that looked like it could hold a diner. That put me on the lookout. Finally we found a town, Logan, right on the edge of a state park. Thankfully they had a Dairy Queen. I got my hamburger and ice cream and sat down at a table on the side of the restaurant. Dad followed and sat on the other side of the table. As I was gleefully munching on my food he asked, "Good?"
"Yeah!" I replied.
"Good." He dipped a french fry in his ketchup and used it to spread some of the red tomato blood on his hamburger. "We should reach the cabin late tonight. Depending on the roads we might have to stay the night in town. You're uncle was telling me that when he went they were pretty bad."
"Did they have a lot of snow?" I asked.
"Yeah, and it's snowed since then. They might not have gotten the snow plow up the road to the cabin."
"Hmm.. shovels?" I offered.
He laughed. "Hopefully not." We finished our burgers and got back on the road.
As we made our way through the plains of the Land of Enchantment, I stared up at the sky. At the clouds more precisely. They were in rows that always reminded me of my grandfather's nursery.
"Every time the clouds look like this I can imagine Papa up in heaven riding his tractor, tending to his plants." Dad smiled and looked up too. Papa, my dad's dad, died when I was five. Some of my earliest memories are of him. I would crawl through his legs when he was sitting down in his great big chair and he would catch me, and I would laugh and laugh. ***I wish I could have gotten to know him***
"Yeah, they do look like rows of plants." Dad said.
We rode on in silence for a few more minutes and I continued to stare out the side window.
"Dad?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you ever feel far away from God?" I asked softly. Dad was quiet for a minute before he replied.
"Sometimes, sweety. But I think that that is just a normal part of life. It's kind of like a mountain." He pointed straight ahead where the blue mountains had appeared in the far distance. He continued slowly. "We go up and up and up, getting and feeling closer and closer to God. Then we hit the summit. For that brief moment a 'mountain-top moment' we feel the closest to God. But you know, once you hit that top you have to come down again."
I looked at him, "Yeah, its the coming down part that's so hard."
He smiled, a sweet smile. "I know boo." I smiled back. I could feel tears welling up, begging for release, but I held them back. I don't cry in front of a lot of people. Soon they were gone, replaced with anticipation of the week we would have together. As the mountains got steadily closer, my outlook brightened.
I sighed and leaned my chair back. Reaching in the back seat for my pillow I managed to pull it out from under the loads of foodstuffs in a brown paper bag. I settled down for a nice nap.
An hour or two later I woke up to Dad rolling down the windows of the truck. A mountain breeze flew in and danced around the cab.
"We're near Cimmaron." Dad said. I believed him, we were practically on the mountain now. A shiver ran down my back and I was glad I wore jeans.
Up and up we went. I looked back out the window and saw the tan and red landscape below for the last time before rock and evergreens barred it from view. Ah, the mountains.. I could never get tired of them. The sun rises late, and sets early, casting the valleys into premature shadow. The temperature is warm in the summer, cool in autumn and spring, and freezing in winter. There are actually four seasons, and you can see the trees change from green to auburn in the fall. In the winter the snow covers everything, and the evergreens get a white outline to their dark green leaves. You can go sledding in the street and snowboarding on the front lawn.
Dad pulled over in our usual spot. There was a little alcove on the side of the road complete with trees and a water spout. I leaped out of the truck, happy to stand, and stood stretching for a minute. There was snow on the ground, a good two inches of it too. I smiled and dug out my gloves from my book sack and pulled them on. I walked over to the edge of the asphalt and descended carefully onto the cold ground. The bubbling of water was audible as I made my way to a certain tree. The tree was an evergreen and the ground around it was worn. There was a small iron cross nailed to the base of the tree.
Perhaps it was placed in memory of someone or something. Maybe the person believed that God inhabited this specific tree. Plausible, I thought, God is everywhere after all. I took off the glove on my right hand and gently touched the cold metal. It didn't feel like a God-inhabited cross, it felt just normal. I crouched there gazing at the cross for a few moments before, smiling, I headed back up to Dad.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Definitely." I answered. I knew it was going to be an amazing vacation.
An hour or two later I woke up to Dad rolling down the windows of the truck. A mountain breeze flew in and danced around the cab.
"We're near Cimmaron." Dad said. I believed him, we were practically on the mountain now. A shiver ran down my back and I was glad I wore jeans.
Up and up we went. I looked back out the window and saw the tan and red landscape below for the last time before rock and evergreens barred it from view. Ah, the mountains.. I could never get tired of them. The sun rises late, and sets early, casting the valleys into premature shadow. The temperature is warm in the summer, cool in autumn and spring, and freezing in winter. There are actually four seasons, and you can see the trees change from green to auburn in the fall. In the winter the snow covers everything, and the evergreens get a white outline to their dark green leaves. You can go sledding in the street and snowboarding on the front lawn.
Dad pulled over in our usual spot. There was a little alcove on the side of the road complete with trees and a water spout. I leaped out of the truck, happy to stand, and stood stretching for a minute. There was snow on the ground, a good two inches of it too. I smiled and dug out my gloves from my book sack and pulled them on. I walked over to the edge of the asphalt and descended carefully onto the cold ground. The bubbling of water was audible as I made my way to a certain tree. The tree was an evergreen and the ground around it was worn. There was a small iron cross nailed to the base of the tree.
Perhaps it was placed in memory of someone or something. Maybe the person believed that God inhabited this specific tree. Plausible, I thought, God is everywhere after all. I took off the glove on my right hand and gently touched the cold metal. It didn't feel like a God-inhabited cross, it felt just normal. I crouched there gazing at the cross for a few moments before, smiling, I headed back up to Dad.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Definitely." I answered. I knew it was going to be an amazing vacation.
Monday, April 27, 2009
I'm at home, sick. :P Not fun.. I feel fine besides the fever and a sore throat. The sad part is I really wanted to go to school, well really wanted to go to math class at least lol. We took a test last period, so I presume she taught a new lesson today. (Its never good when I miss a lesson, because then I get a whole day behind.) Well at least I'll have a whole day to work on my english papier, c'etait due demains.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Hope
Hope is the thing with wings. Hope has wings so it can fly. Hope is the thing, the light, in the darkness. It is the candle in a cave; it is the porch light that's been left on each night at your mom's for the past ten years. Hope has to have wings so it can fly. How else would it make our spirits soar? When we are lost in that cave, not knowing where we are or where we have been, it is the candle of hope that guides our way home. When you've done everything wrong, messed up your life big time, hope is the light on your mom's porch. Hope is the feeling that things will get better. Hope is stepping out of the cave into the sunshine. Hope is soaking your mom's shoulder and having her hold you like she did when you were five. Hope is for the present. We use it for the future. We hope for a better tomorrow. We hope for a better day-after-tomorrow. If hope is the thing with wings then we are its feathers. We, people who light the candles and flick on the lights, are hope's advocate. And as advocates of hope we share it with others. We share it with people who need it. With those who may have never known it. Hope is what saves people from the darkness in the world. Hope is the candle in the cave. Hope is the thing with wings.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Ah April
Quite possibly the busiest month of the year.
This week especially because there's so much stuff to do... and it won't come quick enough.
Gah..
Yesterday was bad..
It was a Monday, which are hardly ever great, and I hadn't slept well the night before. You know the drill; wake up, look at the clock, sigh, toss, turn, finally fall asleep, repeat. I was sore from sleeping weird all night. The day dragged by. It seemed to even freeze, as the temperature was threatening to do. After school, I went back for an Italy meeting in the library. (52 days left!!)
::
Now its Sunday. Everything is done. Whew ^^ The rest of the week was much better then Monday. Tues/Wed were good. I did Evening Prayer after CC's on Wed. And I now understand what Annie said, "It doesn't matter how you do it, God will be praised." Only about 5 people where there, it was a neat service and I enjoyed it. Thursday night I went to Scott and saw Andre's play. Aubrie met me there and Robin and Brinn where there to see Jason. It was good, Andre and Jason had a kool scene together when Robin's brother killed my brother lol. It was fun ^^
Quite possibly the busiest month of the year.
This week especially because there's so much stuff to do... and it won't come quick enough.
Gah..
Yesterday was bad..
It was a Monday, which are hardly ever great, and I hadn't slept well the night before. You know the drill; wake up, look at the clock, sigh, toss, turn, finally fall asleep, repeat. I was sore from sleeping weird all night. The day dragged by. It seemed to even freeze, as the temperature was threatening to do. After school, I went back for an Italy meeting in the library. (52 days left!!)
::
Now its Sunday. Everything is done. Whew ^^ The rest of the week was much better then Monday. Tues/Wed were good. I did Evening Prayer after CC's on Wed. And I now understand what Annie said, "It doesn't matter how you do it, God will be praised." Only about 5 people where there, it was a neat service and I enjoyed it. Thursday night I went to Scott and saw Andre's play. Aubrie met me there and Robin and Brinn where there to see Jason. It was good, Andre and Jason had a kool scene together when Robin's brother killed my brother lol. It was fun ^^
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Storm
There will always be a storm.
A light drizzle, or a cyclone.
A blizzard in the middle of summer.
Maybe even a hurricane.
There will always be a storm.
But it will always pass.
I can't always live on the mountaintop.
Near God.
I have to go down the mountain.
To Grow.
I don't always like the valley.
The valley is where the hurricanes hit.
The valley is where it rains.
And rains.
And rains.
The rain stops.
It brings forth new life.
And I start the ascent again.
Often another storm hits me,
Sends me sliding down.
I cry out,
"Why? For what purpose?"
And hear my echo fly away.
I haven't stopped climbing.
Not yet.
God help me if I do.
I'll need all the help I can get.
A light drizzle, or a cyclone.
A blizzard in the middle of summer.
Maybe even a hurricane.
There will always be a storm.
But it will always pass.
I can't always live on the mountaintop.
Near God.
I have to go down the mountain.
To Grow.
I don't always like the valley.
The valley is where the hurricanes hit.
The valley is where it rains.
And rains.
And rains.
The rain stops.
It brings forth new life.
And I start the ascent again.
Often another storm hits me,
Sends me sliding down.
I cry out,
"Why? For what purpose?"
And hear my echo fly away.
I haven't stopped climbing.
Not yet.
God help me if I do.
I'll need all the help I can get.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Trees
I had fun with Picasa today.
This is the original pic that my friend Stephanie took.
This is the original pic that my friend Stephanie took.
I sharpened it and added text.
I changed the color scheme to black and white and changed the text.
Finally, I maxed the highlights and shadows and deleted the text.
There you go!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Feb
Bleh, its February. And I don't feel good... my throat has been hurting for like 7 hours. I think Liz gave me a bug
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Sore
It always hits harder day after the day after. My left leg hurt so much today.. sheesh. And oh the stairs! Up the stairs then down.. gah.
Always hurts,
But never enough.
Could hurt more.
Don't think I like it.
Even I'm not that weird.
Friday shouldn't be that bad,
God I hope it isn't.
Hopefully this pain will disappear
If it doesn't..
Just live with it.
Keep living.
Living.
Monday it'll be gone
Never to return, except
On Tuesday.
Perhaps it won't hurt,
Question I.
Usually it doesn't unless I work very,
Very hard.
Work my butt off like the
X-Men. I hope
You find your own
Zephyr. But don't let the wind blow too hard.
Always hurts,
But never enough.
Could hurt more.
Don't think I like it.
Even I'm not that weird.
Friday shouldn't be that bad,
God I hope it isn't.
Hopefully this pain will disappear
If it doesn't..
Just live with it.
Keep living.
Living.
Monday it'll be gone
Never to return, except
On Tuesday.
Perhaps it won't hurt,
Question I.
Usually it doesn't unless I work very,
Very hard.
Work my butt off like the
X-Men. I hope
You find your own
Zephyr. But don't let the wind blow too hard.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Stress
Ah, nothing like exercising your butt off to relieve stress. so much crap has been building up the past week. I'm glad i'm pretty much caught up now. There was so much Happening stuff to do plus homework because I missed Friday and yesterday. (I stayed home to do homework, how ironic is that?) My first Taekwondo class of the semester was tonight. Man, it felt good ^^ We kicked around, and even free sparred. The class ended with some nice stretches. Sigh.. so good. I know i'll feel it tomorrow though, probably when I'm bowling in 5th hour heh ^^
If anyone actually reads this you need to listen to the song:
Over the Pond
by the band:
The Album Leaf
That's all for now. Goodnight ^^
If anyone actually reads this you need to listen to the song:
Over the Pond
by the band:
The Album Leaf
That's all for now. Goodnight ^^
Sunday, January 4, 2009
it feels good to know that you've spent the last four minutes with about 1,000 other people. doing the same thing they were doing.
now that i think about it, it feels neat knowing that there are millions of people sharing this earth with me. i mean think about it... there are maybe 1-10 other people sharing your house. then multiply that times 10 to get all the people on your street. times that by 7 to get your neighborhood. it keeps growing. there are so many people on this world. and we know only a fraction of them... we like even less. that's amazing.
now that i think about it, it feels neat knowing that there are millions of people sharing this earth with me. i mean think about it... there are maybe 1-10 other people sharing your house. then multiply that times 10 to get all the people on your street. times that by 7 to get your neighborhood. it keeps growing. there are so many people on this world. and we know only a fraction of them... we like even less. that's amazing.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)