a start.

i think part of the reason why i loved the Twilight books so much is because Stephenie Meyer was so inspired to write by her dreams and her music. she constantly just had stories to tell that would come from some sort of personal experience.

and this inspires me.

i'm somewhat of a visionary. and there is always some form of a picture in my mind, especially with my synesthesia. i have many stories to tell.

but just like with Stephenie, these are going to stick with just me for awhile.

still, i'm really excited. :)

the past and its meaninglessness.

sometimes i indulge myself with reading my old journal entries and such from a few years back. they're entertaining and remind me of things/times/people i'd forgotten about. even if at the time i swore i'd never forget it. hah.

it's funny how little truly impacts your life in relation to how much you think it does. in a way, it gives me hope to think that at some point in my future, i can feel truly new and whole and detached from my past. lately for different reasons, that has been a problem.

what once felt like a restraint now feels like a savior. i was once tied up and burning at the stake and am now holding onto that stake for dear life. because there are some things that need to burn away...to irrevocably change form and appearance.

and now i see that in the end...nay, by the end...it wouldn't have made a difference anyway.

today's passings.

my day has consisted of rainy walks with my doggy-friend Buddy, organizing a plan to start getting my final school assignments taken care of, black coffee, my favorite strawberry ice cream, and one of my favorite movies Cold Mountain, which is happening as we speak.

i am rather joyous of the rest of the week without classes. and the holidays approaching. and the presents i plan on making/giving.

i have a strange feeling that this winter holds something out of the ordinary for me. we'll see.

have a good one, friends.

The Prophet: On Marriage

"Then Almitra spoke again and said, And what of Marriage, master?
And he answered saying:
You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow."

The Prophet: On Love

my aunt bought me this little book called The Prophet for my 18th birthday and every now and then i fall in love with it all over again. lately, today, right now, it is the medicine my soul has longed for. it's an extension of almost everything i think and feel on certain subjects, plus a little more. so i'll share different segments with you all from now on for your philosophical and theological pleasures. enjoy.

"Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are high and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste in the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant.
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possess not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say,
'God is in my heart,' but rather, 'I am in the heart of God.'
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips."

i am cleaned and made whole. i am satisfied and i am joyful.

today is a good day. :)

i love you all.

beh.

i have a lot i want to write about. random tangents of thought and observation. songs that tear into me. people that are melded to my heart to the point of becoming part of my heart...therefore leaving me never to be the same.

He sure is doing a number on me.

i just wish i had something else...someone else...to talk about besides myself. maybe that's why being alone is so suffocating. maybe it's because all i have to rest my eyes on is a mirror, which hardly brings rest.

this is my prayer, my hope, my song:

how long have i been in this storm?
so overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form
the water's getting harder to tread
with these waves crashing over my head

if i could just see You...everything would be alright
if i'd see You...this darkness would turn into light
and i will walk on water
and You will catch me if i fall
and i will get lost into Your eyes
i know everything will be alright
i know everything is alright

i know You didn't bring me out here to drown
so why am i ten feet under and upside down?
barely surviving has become my purpose
because i'm so used to living underneath the surface

if i could just see You...everything would be alright
if i'd see You...this darkness would turn into light
and i will walk on water
and You will catch me if i fall
and i will get lost into Your eyes
i know everything will be alright
i know everything is alright
everything's alright


Storm - Lifehouse

Amen.

"A Simple Paradise"

this is another blog from my myspace that i'm transferring over...the same thoughts have bounced around my head lately and i recalled already writing them! enjoy...

so for some reason lately my mind's been stuck on the man who was crucified right next to Jesus. i realize there were two, and i am speaking of the one who believed He was the son of God.

the fact that he was being killed in the worst and most painful way imaginable is an obvious clue that his life was a bit less than consecrated. he could've been one of the worst theives around. he could've raped a woman. he could've been some sort of biblical serial killer. i'm sure plenty of scholars have already done the research and know exactly what he did, but regardless, it was horrifying enough to be tortured to death. but it was the split second before his life was lost in which he encountered Life itself. and in doing so, he was promised eternal Paradise seconds before his earthly death.

there are many churches and Christians that find it necessary to set up some sort of lifestyle to compare all others against to either praise or condone. a good way a friend of mine put it is an attempt to make Christianity a formula. that's like trying to fit Christ in some sort of box that brings us success when handled correctly. our perception of it is a game to be an expert in as opposed to Life that is living and breathing and, in some aspects, changing or moving. so if we stop looking at the actions of ourselves and others and start looking at what is going on in the inside [which hopefully reflects that of the outside], it wouldn't be so hard to comprehend a serial killer or a rapist receiving the love of Christ and His Paradise.

my point is that it truly is the simplicity of believing Christ is God that brings us to Paradise. humans are always thought of as too simple to comprehend a complicated universe or God, but i truly think otherwise. its the simple things, the "too easy" things that completely floor the human race.

"Life"

it's funny how my life looks to others when i tell them what i'm up to lately. they say things like "keep enjoying life" and "it's great to hear that you're doing so well."

do i really sound so well? i would think something a little above getting-through-this-hour living would be considered that great. but that's not what they see. they see the college journey, the challenging classes, and the social life. those things are truly mine, and i appreciate them greatly.

but is that the stuff of my life?

it's the stuff people want to hear, i suppose.

a dear friend of mine shared with YoungLife club last night about how shallow scratches scab over while they are healing, but deep scratches first heal from the inside and don't make themselves "pretty" until they are completely healed. the deep wound is healed before the outside looks any different. and just like she related to this healing, i do as well.

my emotions still have their downward tendencies and i still feel like breathing is a chore. i still feel like in spite of having all these traits of a great life around me, i have nothing to keep me warm. but there is warmth inside of me. my body touches this world but it only feels His arms, where i rest. we don't talk much...we don't need to. because i know that despite my despair, i am being healed. despite all reality, my soul is under the spell of a miracle.

at the moment, this is only knowledge. because i am human, i can't grasp it yet because i can't feel it or see it.

it's hard to say what i feel and see. if my life were split into three levels, three completely different scenarios, people, and emotions would be taking place within me. and all three are simultaneous. i can't be sure of anything.

but something tells me i'm in the perfect place for me...this is exactly what i need.

so once again, i press on.


to you, goodbye.

and to you, hello.

and you, i'm sorry.

"I Have Calmed and Quieted My Soul"

i heard a Psalm this past Wednesday that i had never heard before, and i related to it more than i can express. and the funny thing is, its author had a completely different attitude about his words than i have had with mine...

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me.

O Israel, hope in the Lord
from this time forth and forevermore.

Psalm 131

it was those first four lines that have been in my prayers for weeks on end, and in them, i relayed my hopelessness. my neck hurts from searching the clouds. my heart hurts from inflated dreams. and so i have found myself here, with heavy eyes and fermented thoughts. a shorter story, no love, no glory, no hero in my skies. but what a place to be. what a blessing it is to be truly broken in spirit...to be humble, rather than in pursuit of humility. and it's those last few lines that have shed light on how i should respond to my situation and what the next step is.

But I have calmed and quieted my soul...

the first step to calming and quieting oneself tends to begin with a sense of being out of breath or being exhausted. so it has been for my soul. now i can look forward to the calm and the quiet.

and maybe, with strength not my own, i can find in my heart some hope as well.

Song.

once there was a song. He created it from His heart, His creativity, and His wildest dreams. somehow this song didn't alter the structures of time or space or waves. it's a miracle such a thing from such a Being could breathe and not sear through the thin membranes of life and logic surrounding it.

the concept of color must have derived from weak imitations and parallels to this music, as if it was read about in a book somewhere and no reader quite knew how to paint with it. if i were to whisper the colors of these melodies to you, your recollections of such colors would be like fingerprints compared to the hand that made them. some of these colors, i have no names for anyway.

the song can be divided into several layers, each in response to one another but never self-made. layers of circumstance, change, question, raw emotion, restricted emotion, thoughts, thoughts about those thoughts...the list hardly ends. some layers never surface but do indeed live.

i do not know these things because i created them. i simply hear. i simply see. i simply marvel and grovel and tumble over what couldn't have come from this world; what must have been thought on and brainstormed and carefully constructed during every milisecond of time before its birth.

and to think that this song...this song that causes so many lasting fingerprints...is only a fingerprint in itself of Who formed it? this purity is only an expression of Someone even more potent? this melody that i can barely handle listening to, let alone considering, is simply the vibrations of Something more resounding?

good God, how now shall we live?