The hoshpital

So....
Friday?
Friday. Nope. I never have a good sense of time. It was possibly wednesday.
Friday morning my sister woke me up crying. With her crying, that is. She's 19 and she was moaning and bawling like a baby. It was just before 2:30 am. She couldn't stop crying and moaning. I sat next to her and she clung to me like a little kid. And bawled. I tried to sing and comfort her and my voice was scratchy...She laid in bed and talked to our mom for a little bit. I was watching her. My nineteen year old sister, crying as hard as I've ever seen.
I had been feeling peace but this weighed down on me.
I went into my room and wrote about it. About how I didn't feel hope. How this perspective was being forced at me.
I looked up hope in my bible's concordance and this is what I found:

So I say, "my endurance has perished; so has my hope from the LORD." But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, `"therefore I will hope in him."

- Lamentations 3:18, 21-24

I set it as my status. As a reminder and a quiet message to my family. I prayed. I passed out. 

They admitted Sara and she's been at the hospital since. My hope is that they can find out what's wrong, and a hospital seems like a good environment for her, because of all her pain.

Answers, peace, healing, comfort, strength...

We need some prayer.

Adventures in Stupidity

There's this guy at my church.
I've known him since we were both children but I've never known him beyond just name. His sister was my best friend at one point, but it's been a while.
Suddenly he's in youth group. Whatever.
Suddenly he thinks it's okay to touch me.
No.
I can't even express how much this bothered me. I started attending my church less and less frequently because of him. Everyone but him knew that I didn't want him anywhere near me; I made it obvious. Apparently he is the master of oblivion because he had no idea.
In his defense, he saw me mostly around D and H who I am both very touchy with. He saw me hugging on them and figured that's how I roll. Which is why I ever hugged him, ever. I didn't want to be rude.
Here's the thing. I've known D literally as long as I can remember. I apparently met H later but I don't remember meeting her. I don't think we were around each other a lot.
Both of these people are very, very close to my heart. I love H like a little sister and I want to protect her from all the bad things in the world. D's like...I don't know what he is. He and I have a unique relationship. I'd say he's like a brother but that would be slightly creepy given that half the time when we talk it's filled with wild, inappropriate, empty flirting. He's just D. The end. Anyway, I love them both.
You have to get a certain seal of approval to touch me. It has to do with your personality, how well I know you, how I perceive you...it's complicated.
He did not have this seal of approval.
And for all the talking I do, i am REALLY non-confrontational.
So this went on for the entire summer.
Me trying to leave things without him seeing me and hugging me goodbye. Me trying to have things in my hands so that he wouldn't hug me.
One day I was sitting at a table eating a doughnut or something. He comes up behind me says hello and hugs me from behind and starts rubbing my back.
What.
The.
Heck.Like, really slowly. My upper back. I don't know in what world that's appropriate. Unnecessarily intimate, much? I wanted to hurt him.
Hence Mister Slicey.
Mister Slicey is the name for my eventual knife.
I felt the need to get a knife because this a-hole wouldn't leave me alone.
I discussed him with people and eventually my mom told my dad that he needed to put the fear of god into this guy. Shortly thereafter I was talking to my mom about my feelings and decided I wanted to do it.
He made me feel powerless and weak. That I wasn't in control of my own body or what people will do to it. He made me wonder if I'm destined to always just lay back and accept people doing things to me that I don't like.
I'm a fighter, but there are some battles I don't fight. Some I don't fight because I just don't see it as important enough. Sometimes I'm afraid.
Sometimes I'm completely immobilized.
When he started touching me I just didn't like it but I figured he would stop. He wouldn't. I started to feel faraway. I started to feel really traumatized.
The day I talked to my mom was a Tuesday. I decided I would go to church the following night and tell him to piss off.
I took my sister's pocket knife with me.
I couldn't stop holding it.
It made me feel like I had some control.
Did I think I would stab him?
I wasn't planning on it, but I liked to know I could.
I sat in a tactically advantageous place in the room. On the edge of the arm of a couch. I could see everyone, no one could sneak up on me. I could be up in less than a second and the door was a straight shot.
I sat there flicking the knife open and shut.
He never actually showed up.
I was disappointed. I wanted to face my demon.
Nonetheless he was at church that sunday. When he came to hug me I told him no offense but i really don't like people i don't know to touch me. it's not personal, it's just me. D was sitting with me and he said how this guy was cool. I said sure. I just don't know him.
I thought for a while that D was probably right and it was probably just that I don't know him well enough. But the more time I spend with him the less I like him. He's a creep. H loves everyone and she thinks he's cool. Other people at church and I have had many a conversation about him, though, and it's nice to know I'm not alone. Little D, K, R, and I had a talk about him that was basically everyone being like, "am i the only one who thinks he's totally creepy?" and my comments were 1. i'm glad it's not just me and 2. if he gets within three feet of me i'll kill him.
Again I don't think he understands this. He keeps making dumb comments when I don't move to hug him about how i don't know him and asks oh you know so and so but not me.
Listen. The more you're bothered by not being able to touch me, the less likely I am to let you touch me. I really don't like this kid.
Our youth group went to a service project recently and on the way back he was playing with the girls' hair. It was creepy as all hell. They all had their hair down and I had mine in a bun. He played with K's hair (she was next to me) and as soon as I felt his hand on my hair I said, "I will murder you."
I meant it as a joke but it came out in an intense monotone. Everyone else was kind of stunned but he didn't stop touching my head! I had to jerk away and say "Please do not touch my hair." And he was all, "who, me?"
What's wrong with this guy?
I really, really don't like him.

Repetition. Habit. Redundancy.

I've heard it said that our brains have ruts in them. Not physically of course, but our minds. When you hear something you react in a certain way. If you react that way enough it becomes second-nature to you, to the point that you don't even consider reacting in a different way. I think we go through a lot of our lives on autopilot. I have OCD and this is okay with me; there are a lot of ticks I have and if I were forbidden to do them I would be climbing the walls. Watch my right-hand fingers in a car sometime, there's a small thing I've been doing ever since I was a kid. With the mental problems I apparently have, repetition can be very soothing. So when the pattern is disrupted, it can really jar me. Somehow, on the other hand repetition can make me crazy. There's a rumour going around that I might be bi-polar and I certainly understand where they see that. But the way I see it is I'm just really passionate. I don't want to be stuck with one thing forever. I need to do weird things sometimes, open unmarked doors, and look for adventure. Because as nice as repetition can feel, I'm only going to be here once and I'd rather not sleep through it.

I'd like to add a few quotes from one of my favorite webcomics, xkcd.

The infinite possibilities each day holds should stagger the mind. The sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable, breathaking, and I'm sitting here refreshing my inbox. We live trapped in loops. Reliving a few days over and over, and we envision only a handful of paths laid out ahead of us. We see the same things each day, we respond the same way, we think the same thoughts, each day a slight variation on the last, every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms. We act like if we just get through today, tomorrow our dreams will come back to us.

And no, I don't have all the answers. I don't know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become. But I do know one thing: the solution doesn't involve  watering down my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of someday easing my fit into a mold. It doesn't involve tempering my life to better fit someone's expectations. It doesn't involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up.

- dreams

Take wrong turns. Talk to strangers. Open unmarked doors. And if you see a group of people in a field, go find out what they're doing. Do things without always knowing how they'll turn out. You're curious and smart and bored, and all you see is the choice between working hard and slacking off. There are so many adventures that you miss because you're waiting to think of a plan. To find them, look for tiny interesting choices. And remember that you are always making up the future as you go.

- Choices: part 4

Feeling "Share-y-ish"

I decided to post on facebook about the existence of my blog because I felt like sharing with people. People are interested, which is weird, but okay. The thing is I still have this fear of writing for people to read, falling below their expectations, ruining their opinion of me. There are some people I like. I want them to like me. It's not that I put up a front when I'm around people, I'm just guarded. And when I can just sit and listen to music and write it really helps me. But the thought of other people reading my writing makes it much less candid. It makes me want to take down posts and try to make my blog presentable. There are a couple of issues with this, though. For one, if I'm writing with guards up that does more harm than good and it makes my writing crap. It's also impossible. If I cleaned this blog up and removed everything uncomfortable it would have very few posts. So maybe I need to buck up, send someone a carrier pigeon, and deal with some consequences. I'd rather not be keeping my stupid words to myself forever. Writing to oneself seems particularly pointless.

So I suppose I shall explain myself somewhat.

Hello hypothetical new reader.
There are some things you need to know.

There are some things that I don't tell everyone in the world. Some of these things I am very comfortable writing about. Suffice it to say that you will probably learn some unsavory things about me so try and brace yourself.
My writing is for the most part just a stream of consciousness. The posts I have planned out are still in my draft box, because I don't write like that.
I use a lot of disclaimers and swear words. Deal with it.

Poetry,ish.

 HEY.

Some of these (especially the first) are personal and intense and sad. Read at your own risk. I wrote these a while ago. I feel better now. Just a disclaimer. I don't want to shock anyone too badly. I would feel really bad.



Your name

Sounds like a foreign word

After all these years

Just how many, I don't know

I was little

Was it my fault?

Did I want this?

Is it okay to feel

the way that I feel?

Is it adding to the brand

and is that so bad?

I feel so sick just remembering

God, where were you?

Why did you let this happen?

I scrub and scrub

But I don't feel clean

Each clean mark shows how dirty I really am

I can never clean myself

I feel hopeless

but redemption

is more than a feeling

~~******~~



My moments are leaving
They are slipping
Through my fingers
Through the cracks
How do I stop them?
Where are they going?


~~******~~


Please
Feel me
See me
Hear me
No
Stop
Listen!
Listen to what I'm not saying
See the me
Behind the mask
Please
Hold me close
Don't let me go
Don't let me fall
I can't get up again
I'm tired of failure.
I can't recover on my own.

~~******~~

"Who will you serve?"

I heard the question

And foolishly,

I thought I knew my answer.

But now...

Here I lay

Bleeding

Not living

Heart beating

Between the awful thoughts that I can't stop

I know

This choosing made every day

Shows truth

Shows who I'm serving

I don't know how to change this

Or even if I want to

Truth is...

I can't.

And don't.

But he can.

But he does.

Yahweh

Father

Will you save me from myself?

~~******~~

Intimate.

I showed you my poems

Told you my secrets

You didn't run away

You hold me when I cry

Is it okay

That I feel like a see-saw

Afraid and broken

Did we break each other?

Did I break you?

~~******~~

I never knew brotherly love to be so strong

I adore you

you are my hero

My teacher

My brother

You make me mad

Make me laugh

You give the best hugs

Remember?

Lakes

Blankets

Smoothies

Getting baptized in a hot tub

But things change.

Work

College

Projects

Am I still your sister?

~~******~~

Perfect.

Wake up!

A brisk winter day

Perfect dreams shattered

By a cold bedroom

An alarm clock's ringing

Clarity creeps in

Between the covers

Between the figment and the reality

Sweet air

Open sky

A smile spreads

For this is the day that the Lord has made

Boys will be boys, baby.

For those of you who don't know, my friend T is missing part of his second toe on his left foot. This happened when he was mowing the lawn on a mission trip. I watched it happen and while we don't always talk a lot he's still one of my favorite people ever and at times we've been, dare i say, close. A while back I wrote a poem about this experience and this is that poem. It's hard to make "lawn mower" sound poetic.

You push the mower back and forth

Back and forth till-

Trauma

A gash in skin

A gush of blood

You run

Down the hill

"Call 911"

I stare and pray

I see a bone

She grabs my arm

I can't move

I can't look away

From you

The pain in your eyes

She turns me aside and I feel like she woke me up

I watch them take you

Cry and write

Phone calls are made

"There's been an accident"

We go to dinner

Without you

"Are you okay?"

I just nod and poke my food

I need to get out

I have to do something

Everyone's rehashing the detail

All day

"How did it happen?"

You've become a puzzle

You squeeze my hand, we hug, it's almost enough

We go home

Without you

I hear you screaming all night long

Even in the darkness, every color can be found.

This is a post I've been trying to work out for a while.


Lately I've been feeling quite grim. Just the past few weeks I've been hit with these feelings periodically. Feelings of just. Drowning. Wanting to quit everything. Wanting to cut my arms.
And yet I still feel unbelievably happy some of the time.
I'm having a lot of trouble doing school.
Here's the thing about these feelings, the thing I wouldn't have ever considered a few years ago.
They go away.
They'll just dissipate, especially when I find something positive to focus on.
It can take a while, but treading water is better than drowning especially when sometimes I'm just overwhelmingly happy or just...overwhelmingly content. With this deep joy. It's how I feel right now.
Cutting is a weird thing. I don't exactly want to do it but sometimes I do. sometimes I want the release and i want to have it as a crutch I guess. And I'm ashamed to say sometimes I think of it so that people (but only some people) would see my arms and talk to me and know something's wrong. I guess cutting as a cry for help is a relatively common thing to do but it seems so tacky to me.
Anyway.
A few weeks ago it got just really, really overwhelming.
I took a green sharpie out, and I wrote Strong on my wrist.
And it helped immediately.
Everytime I saw that, more than just feeling less inclined to cut, encouraged.

Please don't see this, freak out, and try to save my life.
I'm fine.
Life can't be perfect and I'm okay with that. I enjoy coping.
I'm a big girl, and I can handle myself.

A story of me and people named D. Bonus appearances by profanities and clergy.

The world is beautiful.

Just want to throw that out there.

I keep thinking people hate or dislike or...something me. I keep getting proven wrong, which is really freaking me out. I mean it is fantastic. It's making me quite happy. But I'm used to no one caring if I'm not around.

Did I tell you I went to D's youth group?
I did.
It's not a youth group so much as a small group, about 6 people at a table in a starbucks.

I talked about demons. And then I felt stupid. And I couldn't stop talking. And I cried. And the thought that kept reverberating through my head was, "Dumb as a fucking potato"

I got a ride home though. It was incredibly enjoyable. I actually was a little sad that I live so close. The ride made it a more positive experience, but I still didn't want to go back. In particular I figured the pastor wasn't a fan of me. So I figure, experiment done. I don't need to do that ever again.

The pastor works at my school. He's a pastor (no shit) and he really doesn't appreciate swearing (sorry bro). Back to that later.

Last hour at school I'm a teacher's aide. For the most part I completely hate it. Today was particularly bad because I was so tired and I had had an intense day, because S had been in the hospital for 14 hours. I might tell that later. I didn't get started on the jobs I'm supposed to do all the time because as previously stated i am dumb as a fucking potato. I sat curled up on the ground with my eyes closed. Then I had to explain not having my jobs done which was something like I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Whatever. So I clean. Every time I clean classrooms I'm impressed by how much stuff there is everywhere and I end up with a feeling of, seriously, you are a grown adult. Clean up after your damn self!
But I digress.
After i finally finished my jobs (The first time ever I'd finished them before leaving) the lady D asked me to remind mr. D (totally unrelated to other d's) that he needed to take down all these pictures that were lining the walls or they'd get thrown out. I reminded him and I got the response of "oh yeah. take those down and bring them to me"
I was stunned. I was entirely not happy about doing this job. Midway through my friend A (brother of the first D, confused yet?) came out of his class struggling with a cart and I said I'll help you if you'll help me. So I start to help and said something like "I'm going to put up a notice. If you leave your damn picture on the freaking hall I will rip it in half"(bolded to indicate volume) and passionately told him some part of why I was so frustrated.

This is when it comes back to the pastor, because he happened to walk right there, right then.
Oops.

After putting everything away we go to the piano (we like to hang out there. A is a piano prodigy) and I start talking to A about how i can't go back to his youth group again, because their pastor probably thinks i'm crazy and/or emotionally unstable. A says maybe that's why I should go. I say I don't need to change pastor's opinion of me, that i don't care but find it interesting. A murmurs something. "what?" "nothing" and I go back and forth with him for a couple minutes of "teelll meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" and "I didn't say anything!" when D the first walks up. I tell him to try and beat it out of A or something and he asks what A said.
"I don't know. That's why I'm asking"
"well what was he saying?"
"[some bs about how i don't know because i don't feel like telling d the conversation]"
"what were you guys talking about?"
Ummm....
Something about me going back to their youth group.

So I tell him. And A interjects. And D says that he would be delighted to have me and is that a good enough reason to go?
Way to appeal to my vanity. I'm a sucker.
I protest my plea about the pastor. He has the same thought as his brother especially in that maybe I need a release for my emotions. So that I don't, for example, start crying and yell mild profanities at his brother.
I might go to his youth group on sunday.

Somehow I found this conversation so uplifting.
D said the pastor actually really likes me.
Yeah. I don't know why either.
I always assume no one likes me. Mostly because I'm incredibly annoying. But I think people might actually like me a little bit.
I like them.

Relationship advice as learned through experience

• Never let someone manipulate you. Self-pity is totally manipulation.
  
• Ask yourself if you really like them or if you like the feeling of having someone to flirt with And answer honestly.
   
• Be careful. Be careful. Be careful. I can't emphasize this enough. Until you get at least engaged you honestly don't know when a relationship can just stop. I know there are engagements that break off but I also know most high schoolers aren't engaged. The reason I bring this up is...(important!)
  
• No matter how much you want to, you can't take things back. If you told them things, felt things, did things, you can't undo them. I wish with all my heart that I had never even resumed the relationship that I did. Because I didn't listen to the above bullet points. And I ended up doing stupid stuff. I was short sighted and I really wish I could have not just the time but the actions back.
  

Just Like You - An excerpt [Lecrae]

I was created by God but I ain't wanna be like him, I wanna be him. The Jack Sparrow of my Caribbean. I remember the first created being, and how he shifted the blame on his dame For fruit he shouldn't have eaten. And now look at us all out of Eden, Wearing designer fig leaves by Louis Vuitton, make believing. But God sees through my foolish pride, And how I'm weak like Adam another victim of Lucifer's lies. But then in steps Jesus. All men were created to lead but we need somebody to lead us. More than a teacher, but somebody t buy us back from the darkness, you could say He redeemed us. Taught us that real leaders follow God. Finish the work 'cause we on a job. Taught us not to rob, but give life. Love a wife like He loved the Church, without seeing how many hearts we can break first. I wanna be like you in every way, so if I gotta die everyday, unworthy sacrifice. But the least I can do is give the most of me,
because being just like you is what I'm supposed to be. They say you came for the lame, I'm the lamest. I made a mess you say you'll erase it, I'll take it. They say you came for the lame, I'm the lamest. I broke my life, but you say you'll replace it, I'll take it.

Most awkward (but relevant) blog post ever? Also I don't edit anymore.

I edit articles for theDispersion. I love it. I love theDispersion and I love the job- I get to preread loads of great articles and make sure that they don't get published with mistakes. Which seems trivial but it makes it all seem a bit more professional. Anyway. About the reading. I always end up waiting ages and then editing like 10 of Jack's articles in a row, and they speak to me. He's very honest. He'll talk about his personal sin and it boggles my mind. It's incredibly admirable. Personally I do something a bit opposite. There are some sins I will talk about but they almost always fall into one category - past sins. Nothing I'm struggling with right now. I keep almost pretending that this is a different note but it truly is not. Here is the next thing I want to say, that is still the same train of thought. This is a bit of an article Jack wrote, I don't know when it will be available to the public.

A totally revolutionary way of considering your sin is through the standard that originates from Jesus’ sermon on the mount, specifically in Mathew 5:28. If you look on a woman lustfully, if you want her, you are sinning just as much as any adulterer. Purity is not simply purity of deed it truly is purity of spirit.

This sucks. Like this sucks some mega giraffe abortions. I am flippant because I'm so uncomfortable. Not only is looking at porn sinful so are all the nasty thoughts that go through your (my?) mind about other people and so is being distracted from God because people around you are hot. Smoking hot worship leaders are the worst because while closing your eyes solves the problem of seeing them and makes the singing more intimate with God you so do not want to close your eyes. I can't tell you how many times I've spent time I should be worshiping thinking about the body of the person leading. Maybe that's creepy.

There's a song by Lecrae called Killa. My interpretation of it is the part of Proverbs talking about the adulteress beckoning and such. In the song she's saying,

Baby, this is innocent. It won't even hurt a little bit. I'm only here for your benefit. I'm your every wish. Come on and let me in.

The first line is what gets to my mind. This and the verse Jack mentioned mean something big. They mean that what you do in the privacy of your bedroom is bad. I don't mean what you do with your hypothetical spouse in your hypothetical marriage bed, I think you know that. And I am using the general "You" and not directing this solely at people who would read this. Here's the deal. If you read things even from such people as James Dobson they will say that the things teenagers do in their bedroom or shower (yeah that) is not sinful and natural. And that's a nice crutch. But it keeps gnawing at my mind, if you have to tell yourself that something is innocent, does that not show that it isn't quite as innocent as you would like? I'd like to say I think it completely depends on the content going in one's head as to the innocence of the activity. But I don't know anything.

Here's another thought I keep having. I keep thinking about how Charlie Sheen lives/lived with Bree Olson, who as you probably don't know is a really really pretty porn star. I found out through Philip DeFranco talking about Charlie Sheen, for the record. He had a picture of her. I keep thinking what is that like? Not what is that like in bed or anything like that. Sort of the opposite actually. Pornography is all smoke and mirrors, it's all acting (sorry if you didn't know that. Spoiler!). Even [especially?] interviews with those in the sex industry are total nonsense designed to get people excited.
Again, common knowledge right?
So my question is, what would it be like to see this woman with no makeup, in sweat pants with greasy hair? Sitting on the couch eating potato chips. Doing all the un-sexy things that real women do. I don't fully understand that because he's either ruining the illusion for himself or perpetuating the illusion by getting her to act like she does on set. Which seems sick to me. I would be fascinated to talk to a porn star completely off the record. I once heard a man talking about ministering to strippers or something (hosea and gomer much?) and how much they all HATED men. You walk in and they are all over you but that's the act, and besides they want your money. I think it's so sad that they turn into machines. That they turn something beautiful created by God, not just their bodies but also sexuality and turning it into nothing. Personally I would generally say I'm all over legalized prostitution and gay marriage because marriage is not sacred anymore and if you think it is i would encourage you to look at the divorce rates. But after reading this article on sex and the sanctity of marriage I don't know where I stand. I do actually. I want to keep marriage real and I want to keep it sacred. But it's strange feeling because I know it's not very sacred now.

And I could never take a chance, of losing love to find romance.

I'm just incredibly pleased with the world lately. I've been watching Panic! At the Disco videos all day. 2 of them. On repeat. That's how I roll.
I've been on the computer really often lately because my iPod is dead to the world. I should get it looked at. If it's dead I might get a non-apple music player. I know right? I've just gotten over apple. I don't have much against it but the thing is by now I bet that mp3 players have a lot less variation in quality and such and I don't want to pay extra for stuff.

Anyway! I'm back to my days of unfocused shite blog posts. I wanted to talk about how happy I am but what is there to say? I'm just really happy. It boggles my mind. I remember back in April before I got with my ex being just beyond happy. That was why I didn't want to be with him, because I was so happy and just enjoying being young and single. But he talked me into it. I decided over and over that this was a bad idea and I would tell him and he wouldn't take no for an answer and then when he would it was like kicking a puppy. And I'm not saying the whole time I was manipulated at the beginning my emotions were really hot and cold. And parts of it were really good for a while however there were issues I'm not going to get into. And I'm just revelling in being single right now. I can throw my phone out a damn window and no one's going to blame themselves and no one's going to get upset that I'm not talking to them literally the entire time I'm awake.

I can have a crush on 97% of the male population. Which is what I'm really reveling in right now. If I made a list of all the guys I kind of have a thing for right now I'm not sure how many pages it would be. Basically if you're a guy with a smile I kind of like you. Shawn from Psych, Ewan McGreggor, Christian Bale, today I love Brendon Urie a lot. There are guys I know personally who I kind of like as well but don't worry if you're reading this you're probably not one of them. I'm just enjoying it. It's not that I would actually do anything with any of those guys given the chance I just find them really attractive. Not in a sexual way, in a way of just adrenaline. Of a crush. It's the darndest thing. Man F you blogger darndest is a word.

How does a heart look if no one has noticed its presence and where does it go? Trembling hands play my heart like a drum, but the beat's gotten lost in the show. You have set your heart on haunting me forever from the start, it's never silent.

Our breakup made no sense. I spent (Me, my pocket) an unspecified amount of money on a birthday party a week before and we were just thrilled with each other. He went on a trip that wedensday. He texted me every night on his trip "I miss you baby. We've been doing this and this and I can't text much but I just wanted to let you know" and as soon as he got home he was just a different person. That sunday I pretended not to be sick and we pretended to be ourselves and we took a walk and broke up on a bench. It was really weird. I had a lot of questions for a while I talked to him about it and apparently his feelings just turned off. I talked to him some more and got closure and it hurt for about a day. Next day I was good. Not hurt and not interested in him. I did wish him harm for a while but now I really don't care what he does in the world.

I want to learn to play the drums. Any takers?

 

I hope you appreciate me baring my soul.

Here are the videos I've been watching today. I highly recommend them.

Let's Kill Tonight:  This is a fast song and I love this video. It's simple, but I can't stop watching it.

Ready to Go:  This one is just really fun. Really whimsical

The other A

I want to write about this departure, but I'm rather at a loss of what to say about it.

Should I talk about the vicarious excitement for their new adventure? How sad I am that they're leaving? All the good times we've had? Where does one start. This is something I just don't know. How strange it's going to be to know of P without ever seeing her. Am I going to be one of those people I was confused by as a child, like “I don't know you. Yeah, I’ve gotten bigger. This happens.”?

When I first heard A was leaving, I was in a Costco. I got a phone call. “Did you get the letter from the church?” I bugged a man I'm currently resenting because my abrasiveness doesn't phase him and thus doesn't help alleviate my feelings. He called me. I cried. In a Costco.

The next few days were pretty shaky. But I started to get over it. I deal with things by bottling them up and dealing with them on my own. Crying inconveniences me like none other. I like being in control of my emotions. I rarely cry in public. But when I get home, where it's ok to cry, I still don't want to cry. I shut it out. I get very irritated when people bring it up. I don't w ant you to hold me, I want you to leave me alone until I get off the brink of tears. And then I still won't want to talk about i t.

This morning was their last at this church. I found myself extremely prickly towards people. Don't. Touch. Me. But as I hugged H goodbye....I realized I was hugging her goodbye. And I started tearing up and developed a squeaky voice. And when I hugged A I lost it. I love H, she is an a amazing woman but a) I haven't known her as long b) she didn't go on all the trips and c) since she had P she stopped hanging with the youth as much (Which I fully understand and support mind you).

Things are different with A. This is saying goodbye to stupid inside jokes (See “Cup-CAKE/Hat/sweater/car”, “I WISH I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE LEGS” and “Laooooora”) This is saying goodbye to someone who helped me get the help I needed. Goodbye to the best bible studies I've ever been a part of. To preaching and teaching working hard and goofing off hanging out and talking about tv. Talking about Jesus. A was there when I got saved (Along with a few thousand other people but still), he baptized me (even though i wasn't saved at that point so it totally was not legit). He's known me from when I was a really obnoxious 11 year old brat until now. I think I've changed a lot.

Saying goodbye to P is a bummer. She is precious.

Saying goodbye to H is really sad. She is awesome.

Saying goodbye to A....There's a reason I don't talk about it.

I'm really ugly when I cry.

on my mind

1. I was thinking last night about something I've been wanting to write about. "Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere". In David Crowder's book Praise Habit he talks about preferring to scrub the bathroom floor in the house of God than have everything anywhere else. So think. A california king sized bed. Silk sheets. Servants. Designer clothes. Delicious food. All the drinks, drugs and sex you can handle. But still feeling empty because God is not there with you. Then my mind went to in Hell we are seperate from God. Hell is like, or hell on earth is, Charlie Sheen's life. He lives with porn stars, he does a crapload of coke, but I have yet to hear a single person say they wish they were Charlie Sheen.

2. For Lent I have given up mobile web on my cell phone, and it's been very eye opening. I feel much less connected to the world, and it's starting to feel kind of nice. Choosing times to be connected and times to be alone. But with the lack of twitter and youtube in my pocket and me not watching tv much, i didn't hear about the earthquake in Japan for a solid day. My dad and I were talking to day about natural disasters like that and when people have time but they don't have notice. It's interesting when there's an earthquake in Haiti and within minutes there are a few hundred twitpics of the damage. But what if you don't have twitter and you need to be told to get out? There were people in Japan who had no idea that they were going to be flooded. There is a train full of people missing. A full train. They know where the tracks go, they don't know where the train went. I'm guessing it's at the bottom of the ocean. My mind is so optimistic that I hear people are missing and I think they're okay and they found an island. Not that I don't take it seriously, I just think and hope the best. I will assume someone is alive until their body is identified. They found a mass of a few hundred bodies, which is not everyone. It blew my mind. These people are not missing, they are dead. Every one of them. They had families they had jobs they had pets and iPods and lives. Gone. In my mind that many people cannot be dead it cannot happen, but they can, it did. I always think how much it would suck to die of a bomb. Knowing you can't run. you see it go off, you have a second to proccess it, and think Oh My God, and you are dead. People always tell me you wouldn't feel anything, but that's not my point, and I'm sure you would feel something. It just wouldn't last long. You would feel your body being torn apart. You would feel yourself die and in the time it takes to blink you would be gone, everything you worked for would be vapor. No one cares how toned your body was when you have to be identified by your dental records. People don't mourn the deaths of rich, selfish white men. People mourn the deaths of children, of single mothers, of families. It just gives an interesting perspective to what is important in this life, and in the next. I'm very bad about witnessing to people. I don't know what to say, and my attitude as it is to most things in life is, believe what you want, let's not fight about it. But what if they need to fight, to hear what they need to hear before they die? Not something I can do, and what if some day God looks to me after all of my time spent playing video games has burned up in a fire and he mentions some people I know who don't know him, and he asks me why I didn't even try.

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you and everything they do.

Within the past year (12 months, not 2011), I have been trying new things. Not as a big effort to make myself try new things, it's been individual choices. I rode my first roller coaster, I rollerskated, and today I ate traditional Japanese food.

Wow.

Today was a lot more like the roller coaster than the rollerskating, and it was even more novel. In my mind I am afraid of roller coasters, but I don't think I really am. They're just very strange to me and I don't know what to expect. In rollerskating, I knew what to do I just sucked at it and I kept going, that was my effort. I was so beat up and I kept trying. When I went to Elitch's with my church, I rode a roller coaster. I was really nervous and it was very strange. I had no idea if I liked it. It was just weird. Today, I went to Domo, it has a magical atmosphere. I ordered something with fried rice, beef, and a sweet teriyaki sauce. I received that plate along with three little plates of food, and a small bowl of soup. I tried it all, and I ate substantial amounts. It was so strange. There was a weird feeling in my mouth because I literally had tasted nothing even remotely like that stuff before. On a couple of the small plates there was a vague hint of wasabi, and the soup tasted smoky. But even my fried rice tasted nothing like what I have had in the past. It was a lot like the roller coaster because despite Domo being ranked as the 5^th best restaurant in America, I have no idea if I liked it. It felt strange in my mouth because it tasted nothing like what I normally eat, or even rarely eat for that matter. There was not much sauce, and no soy sauce. At the bottom of the menu it says you can request a fork, but you will not get soy sauce under any circumstances because your food is perfect when it arrives at your table. I guess I was expecting it to taste a lot more like Chinese food, but it's not, and besides I'm sure Chinese food tastes a lot different than the few things I am very comfortable eating. This is one of the strangest meals I have ever had, my brain couldn't process it. And my body feels weird, because I'm not hungry and I'm not full and I don't have a stomachache or heartburn, which may be more to do with my eating habits than the food.

There was something on my plate that scared me. It was a bunch of things and some white thing and some red thing, I don't know, it looked terrifying. But it was good. Even after taking two good bites I was afraid of it.

Trying new things is good, although I have one caveat. The other day I was at a buffet and I grabbed a mussel. I couldn't eat it, it looked too creepy. My caveat is I am not going to eat a mussel, ever. But this summer I want to try roller coasters again....If I have someone to ride with me.

If I could say what I want to say.

You blow my mind. I can't believe that someone like you wouldn't know what they're supposed to do with their life. Firstly, it's so obvious to me what your strengths are and I don't understand how it's not crystal clear. You love people. You love Jesus. You teach all the time. Clearly, you should be a dentist.
Secondly, you could do so many things, even if by some weird miracle you decide to do something else, I'm sure you can do it. Why are you worried?

This all makes me wonder if my strengths are visible to other people. And it makes me think how lame it is that what I want doesn't depend on strength or talent.

It's interesting, because people always say I should be a photographer or an artist or edit pictures or something. And it never crosses my mind as an option. That's just stuff I do and while it would be cool for people to appreciate my pictures, I don't want to do it for a job. I can't fathom people giving me money for it and I don't want to just bang out pictures for the money.

Sometimes I think about going to college, but for what? I want to be a wife. And sure I can and will do other things, but that's my priority. I was thinking about it a while ago, what one thing would I hate myself for missing the opportunity? There are some things I'd kind of like to do like travel or write but the thing that I most am afraid of is to have the chance to be with someone perfect and not take it and maybe that's a little strange but whatever that's what's in my mind.

It just sucks that my dream is not for a career because if I wanted to be a doctor I could do specific things to help achieve that dream. Since I may not be able to make my dream happen, what do I do? Just chill? Master making sandwiches?

I know in the back of my mind that at 16 I shouldn't be worried about my future but as more of my friends are going on with their lives it's on my mind all the time. It drives me crazy.