Friday, December 28, 2012
All I Wanted Was For You To Love Me, And That Made Me Forget Why I Ever Started Loving You
I'm in love with who your were. and I'm sad because I don't think I will ever find someone like that again and I don't have the capacity to change you. when in reality, maybe it is not you that changed, but me. and I like myself too much to change. The picture of us was always better in my head of the way things could be, when I was blind to the way things really were. A part of me will always hold onto the person you were, but I never want to be the person I was when I was with you again. I'm perfect. You're perfect. But together, you made me crazy. You made me question who I was and who I wanted to be and that's not how it should be. But things are never how they should be. All I wanted was you to love me, as I lost sight of the reason I ever started loving you. Everything was fine until I finally reached the perfect person I had created in my head, and you still didn't want me. I guess all along we knew. But I still hope that when you glance across the room, and smile for nothing, and I smile at you, that we both know, though we didn't ever happen in the way that I spent so much time dreaming of, our souls and hearts will know that we taught each other more than we ever would have learned without each other. expectations suck. I wish I could be with you. I wish you wanted to be with me. I wish you cared. I wish you knew. It's all so complicated. You're better off without me.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
How and Why
This past Friday, 27 people were shot and killed in Newtown, Connecticut at a school. 20 of them being children. 1 being the shooter. I thought this was such a terrible tragedy, but when it really hit me hard was when I looked on the news and saw the names of these kids who died, and teachers who died protecting them scroll across the screen. Suddenly each little boy and girl came alive. They became so real. It hit so close to home. My mom always taught me to always call people by name. Always, no if's, and's, or but's, you always call people by name, and each one of those people suddenly, had a name.
My brother Joseph is a very intelligent person. Among other things, he knows film and television like the back of his hand, and when it comes to asking for a valid opinion on such things, he's the first person I would go to. When I was a little girl, I used to hear rumbling's of CSI: New York coming from the other room. As soon as I would walk into the room, the pause button would quickly be pressed as my siblings looked at each other with large eyes wondering how to go about saying that this wasn't a television show that I would be allowed to see. Sometimes I would stay and pretend like I was covering my eyes, but look through the cracks of my fingers, I was very sneaky. With that being said, this wasn't an entirely regular occurrence. Believe me, we had our share of "G" rated films and Anne of Green Gables, which are equally as fulfilling, but there was on occasion times where Prison Break, or 24, or in this case CSI: New York was on and due to my mother's keen sense of judgement, my presence would not be seen at these screenings. Of course they would have happily put on something that both of us could see, but I wanted to see what they were seeing. I wanted to grow up. I wanted to know what the rumbling was about.
As the years passed, and I grew, and the novel idea of me being able to watch more television and movies that weren't so childish with my siblings felt more and more real. Eventually, it became a non-existent worry of mine. Time went on, and my freshman year I moved in with Joseph, his wife Becca, my niece Magdelana, my nephew Johannes, and my other brother Jeremy. This was one of the most delightful years I have ever lived. We had some of the greatest times imaginable, including rituals of a television show each night, one of which being "Lie To Me," a crime show based on the micro-expressions of people. I hadn't thought about CSI: NY in quite sometime, but de ja vu hit me, and I asked Joseph why we never watched that show nowadays. He explained to me something that was very important. He explained to me that in television, there can be a "how" or a "why" and that CSI: NY was a "how."(in much more eloquent terms, of course.)
It occurred to me that "why" questions are much more difficult to answer. Of course, I do find it interesting at what rate the car hit the pole, crushing the victim and not allowing oxygen to the brain, and eventually suffocating. The math, the logic, the numbers. Everything makes sense. Everything adds up. Every question has an answer and every answer a reason to back that answer up. It is when you start asking yourself why. Why? Why did the victim go out that late at night? Why did he not say goodbye? Why did he tell no one where he was going? Why was he alone? At this point you can only guess your best logic. With each question comes another question, and with each answer comes a series more.
Maybe that is why I enjoy crime shows. Because they give answers to all of the "why" questions that go through my head. They make all of these unanswerable questions make sense.
I know what happened in Newtown, Connecticut this past Friday. 27 people died. I can tell you how one man shot and took the lives of 27 people including himself. I can tell you which room he went to first. I can tell you his plan. I can state all of the facts. All of the statistics. I can tell you exactly how this happened. What I cannot tell you is why. Why did he kill 26 people? Why did he not get the help that he needed beforehand? Why did he take it out on children?
The questions are endless
The answers are nonexistent.
Emily Wilkens once came to preach at PAA for a week of prayer. She said, that once you start asking yourself "why" and come up with no answers, you have to ask yourself, "what now?"
I don't want to think of right now, I don't want to take action now, all I seem to want to do is want to think of Charlotte, Daniel, Rachel, Olivia, Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Dawn, Madeleine, Catherine, Chase, Jesse, James, Grace, Anne, Emilie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Jessica, Avielle, Lauren, Mary, Victoria, Banjamin and Allison, those 26 victims each with a name and how life is too short if you're 100, let alone 6! I don't want to think of right now. I want to go forward, or go back. I am sitting, right here, knowing that I am absolutely incapable of bringing life into those 26 people again. That is all I want to do, that one thing I can't.
"How"does play and important role, though. How can I ask myself "what now?" When I ask that it is the first step toward moving on, toward accepting the facts, and that it even happend. What can I do in my community to make this world a better place? How can I hold my trust in God? How can I show others God? Because there comes a point when there are no answers to the why's or the how's or the what's or the who's, and all that's left is God. There is no explanation. Why would I want to answer these questions, because that just justifies the questions? I don't want "Why did he kill 26 people?" to ever be a normal question. How can I feel sympathy for the shooter who killed these people, and then was selfish enough to kill himself? How is it possible to believe in God, but not love all of his children? I cannot believe in a loving God, without possessing love to even the most un-loveable people.
That's a very hard concept for me.
kshjbrgb;ohwsbgiovlnlkfopuiyutrseazdxcvnbm.
...
Dear God,
Please be with the family's and victims of Newtown.
Help give me understanding, and to remember that this hurts you so much.
Help this world be a better place.
Help me know how to serve you. To not do things for myself, but to bring glory to you.
Help my actions not be my actions, but yours through me.
Help me be more like you.
Thank you, God.
Amen.
please come soon.
...
My brother Joseph is a very intelligent person. Among other things, he knows film and television like the back of his hand, and when it comes to asking for a valid opinion on such things, he's the first person I would go to. When I was a little girl, I used to hear rumbling's of CSI: New York coming from the other room. As soon as I would walk into the room, the pause button would quickly be pressed as my siblings looked at each other with large eyes wondering how to go about saying that this wasn't a television show that I would be allowed to see. Sometimes I would stay and pretend like I was covering my eyes, but look through the cracks of my fingers, I was very sneaky. With that being said, this wasn't an entirely regular occurrence. Believe me, we had our share of "G" rated films and Anne of Green Gables, which are equally as fulfilling, but there was on occasion times where Prison Break, or 24, or in this case CSI: New York was on and due to my mother's keen sense of judgement, my presence would not be seen at these screenings. Of course they would have happily put on something that both of us could see, but I wanted to see what they were seeing. I wanted to grow up. I wanted to know what the rumbling was about.
As the years passed, and I grew, and the novel idea of me being able to watch more television and movies that weren't so childish with my siblings felt more and more real. Eventually, it became a non-existent worry of mine. Time went on, and my freshman year I moved in with Joseph, his wife Becca, my niece Magdelana, my nephew Johannes, and my other brother Jeremy. This was one of the most delightful years I have ever lived. We had some of the greatest times imaginable, including rituals of a television show each night, one of which being "Lie To Me," a crime show based on the micro-expressions of people. I hadn't thought about CSI: NY in quite sometime, but de ja vu hit me, and I asked Joseph why we never watched that show nowadays. He explained to me something that was very important. He explained to me that in television, there can be a "how" or a "why" and that CSI: NY was a "how."(in much more eloquent terms, of course.)
It occurred to me that "why" questions are much more difficult to answer. Of course, I do find it interesting at what rate the car hit the pole, crushing the victim and not allowing oxygen to the brain, and eventually suffocating. The math, the logic, the numbers. Everything makes sense. Everything adds up. Every question has an answer and every answer a reason to back that answer up. It is when you start asking yourself why. Why? Why did the victim go out that late at night? Why did he not say goodbye? Why did he tell no one where he was going? Why was he alone? At this point you can only guess your best logic. With each question comes another question, and with each answer comes a series more.
Maybe that is why I enjoy crime shows. Because they give answers to all of the "why" questions that go through my head. They make all of these unanswerable questions make sense.
I know what happened in Newtown, Connecticut this past Friday. 27 people died. I can tell you how one man shot and took the lives of 27 people including himself. I can tell you which room he went to first. I can tell you his plan. I can state all of the facts. All of the statistics. I can tell you exactly how this happened. What I cannot tell you is why. Why did he kill 26 people? Why did he not get the help that he needed beforehand? Why did he take it out on children?
The questions are endless
The answers are nonexistent.
Emily Wilkens once came to preach at PAA for a week of prayer. She said, that once you start asking yourself "why" and come up with no answers, you have to ask yourself, "what now?"
I don't want to think of right now, I don't want to take action now, all I seem to want to do is want to think of Charlotte, Daniel, Rachel, Olivia, Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Dawn, Madeleine, Catherine, Chase, Jesse, James, Grace, Anne, Emilie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Jessica, Avielle, Lauren, Mary, Victoria, Banjamin and Allison, those 26 victims each with a name and how life is too short if you're 100, let alone 6! I don't want to think of right now. I want to go forward, or go back. I am sitting, right here, knowing that I am absolutely incapable of bringing life into those 26 people again. That is all I want to do, that one thing I can't.
"How"does play and important role, though. How can I ask myself "what now?" When I ask that it is the first step toward moving on, toward accepting the facts, and that it even happend. What can I do in my community to make this world a better place? How can I hold my trust in God? How can I show others God? Because there comes a point when there are no answers to the why's or the how's or the what's or the who's, and all that's left is God. There is no explanation. Why would I want to answer these questions, because that just justifies the questions? I don't want "Why did he kill 26 people?" to ever be a normal question. How can I feel sympathy for the shooter who killed these people, and then was selfish enough to kill himself? How is it possible to believe in God, but not love all of his children? I cannot believe in a loving God, without possessing love to even the most un-loveable people.
That's a very hard concept for me.
kshjbrgb;ohwsbgiovlnlkfopuiyutrseazdxcvnbm.
...
Dear God,
Please be with the family's and victims of Newtown.
Help give me understanding, and to remember that this hurts you so much.
Help this world be a better place.
Help me know how to serve you. To not do things for myself, but to bring glory to you.
Help my actions not be my actions, but yours through me.
Help me be more like you.
Thank you, God.
Amen.
please come soon.
...
The Art To Getting By
When at first you try but you don't succeed
When everyone's telling you who to be and what to feel
When you stand up in a fight but you're still the bad guy
When it doesn't seem like you are gonna make it through the night
Oh darling let me teach you there's an art to getting by
I know life sucks I'm the first to tell you
but you gotta turn the other cheek and smile
turn the other cheek and smile
When you got so many maps but you still don't know where to go
When they say you you've had enough time, you should know
When you have a plan but it's not what you want
When you say you're in love and they tell you you're not
When it doesn't seem like you'll make it through the night
It's not worth this fight I'm fighting in
Oh darling let me teach you there's an art to getting by
I know life sucks I'm the first to tell you
but at least you can say you tried
Oh darling let me teach you there's an art to getting by
I know life sucks I'm the first to tell you
but you gotta turn the other cheek and smile
turn the other cheek and smile
When everyone's telling you who to be and what to feel
When you stand up in a fight but you're still the bad guy
When it doesn't seem like you are gonna make it through the night
Oh darling let me teach you there's an art to getting by
I know life sucks I'm the first to tell you
but you gotta turn the other cheek and smile
turn the other cheek and smile
When you got so many maps but you still don't know where to go
When they say you you've had enough time, you should know
When you have a plan but it's not what you want
When you say you're in love and they tell you you're not
When it doesn't seem like you'll make it through the night
It's not worth this fight I'm fighting in
Oh darling let me teach you there's an art to getting by
I know life sucks I'm the first to tell you
but at least you can say you tried
Oh darling let me teach you there's an art to getting by
I know life sucks I'm the first to tell you
but you gotta turn the other cheek and smile
turn the other cheek and smile
Friday, December 7, 2012
L.A.
Gonna start this home from the roots
Never thought I'd lose you
Gonna follow those city lights
Call me a dreamer but it's worth a fight
Easier said than done
Well I learned my lesson
There's no easy way out
and I found out the hard way
Is this a heartbreak
You still make my heart race
This is a hard place
to be
Someone guide me
I'm still fighting
No I'm lying
but you can't fix me
I want to go to L.A.
Take the Max or the Subway
Maybe I just had a bad day but,
I'm already here
I thought I left you far away from here
But you've still followed me through all these years
Three thousand miles away
I'm still choked up with no words to say
I'm searching for someone to replace
Someone to calm this rage
I'm all alone on this quest
We all know I got a few things I gotta get off my chest
Is this a heartbreak
You still make my heart race
This is a hard place
to be
You still make my heart race
This is a hard place
to be
Someone guide me
I'm still fighting
No I'm lying
but you can't fix me
I want to go to L.A.
Take the Max or the Subway
Maybe I just had a bad day but,
I'm already here
You call me with your touch, I'm too young for love, I'm too young
I'm too young for love
You call me with your touch, I'm too young for love, I'm too young
I'm just too young for love
Is this a heartbreak
You still make my heart race
You still make my heart race
This is a hard place
to be
Someone guide me
I'm still fighting
No I'm lying
but you can't fix me
I want to go to L.A.
Take the Max or the Subway
Maybe I just had a bad day but,
I'm already here
I guess maybe I jumped the gun
You know I still need to learn a few lessons
I'm stranded in this foreign land
Moving on holding a stranger's hand
This is a heartbreak
Cause you still make my heart race
This is a very hard place to be
No one can guide me
Cause I'm not fighting
No I'm not lying
You can't fix me
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Here's What It's Like On The Inside of My Soul
You can't possess love if you try
I'm no angel, but I still like to fly
One fear falls, I can't wipe it away
Just let it fall
'Till I got words to say
Say I'm gonna be happy
Say I'm gonna learn
Search through everybody but I still get hurt
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
Ask me no more questions, there's no more you need to know
Dust the corners of my heart, the child in me has grown old
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
If I sing loud enough you'll here no voice
I'm screaming in your ear, you've left me no choice
An angel told me once, "guard your gold and shoot your gun.
Love your God and hold him dear, but don't love anyone."
Say I'm gonna be happy
Say I'm gonna learn
Search through everybody but I'm still hurt
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
Ask me no more questions, there's no more you need to know
Dust the corners of my heart, the child in me has grown old
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
How sad of you to go without saying goodbye
You left me angry, crying
At least I can say I tried
How sad of you to leave without shedding a tear
You got a taste of the ice that burns my bones
Smile for the cameras that's the smile that you know
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
Ask me no more questions, there's no more you need to know
Dust the corners of my heart, the child in me has grown old
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
I'm no angel, but I still like to fly
One fear falls, I can't wipe it away
Just let it fall
'Till I got words to say
Say I'm gonna be happy
Say I'm gonna learn
Search through everybody but I still get hurt
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
Ask me no more questions, there's no more you need to know
Dust the corners of my heart, the child in me has grown old
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
If I sing loud enough you'll here no voice
I'm screaming in your ear, you've left me no choice
An angel told me once, "guard your gold and shoot your gun.
Love your God and hold him dear, but don't love anyone."
Say I'm gonna be happy
Say I'm gonna learn
Search through everybody but I'm still hurt
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
Ask me no more questions, there's no more you need to know
Dust the corners of my heart, the child in me has grown old
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
How sad of you to go without saying goodbye
You left me angry, crying
At least I can say I tried
How sad of you to leave without shedding a tear
You got a taste of the ice that burns my bones
Smile for the cameras that's the smile that you know
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
Ask me no more questions, there's no more you need to know
Dust the corners of my heart, the child in me has grown old
Here's what it's like on the inside of my soul
Friday, November 23, 2012
Lucy Loves Jude
I want to tell him so much. If nothing else to give me some sort of concept of who I really am to him, to give me closure. But sometimes you have to think about other people. It's not about what I want. It's thinking about Maxwell, my family, all the logistics that seem to disappear when I think of the novel idea of me in his arms. You're right. It's not healthy for me to narrow my mind to only think of one kind of life with him. To not accept the fact that he may not be in my future. To think that there is a guy out there that at just the right time, in the right place, in the right moment, with the right intentions, loves me the way I love him. I wish I could know if he ever loved me the way I imagine myself always loving him. It hurts to think that someone, some human, some imperfect being could have such a hold on me. I know, I KNOW he's not perfect, but he is so perfect to me. It's not good for me, you're right. I do need to move on. I want to, I legitimately try. I am always led back to him in someway. I see a superhero and I think of his love for them. I hear The Beatles, and I remember of our mutual favorite band. Everytime I get a text, a call, I hope to look at my phone and see his name. I sound like a child, I know I'm sixteen. But it feels like I have already lived a lifetime that's just gone way too fast. I know it's easy to remember things differently than they happened, but maybe if the memory of him is all I will ever have, than that will be enough to know that maybe, at one second, in just the right moment, at just the right time, he felt the same way about me, as I always will him. I love him. I can't just forget.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
There's No Bob Without a Betty, and No Betty Without a Bob
This week, my grandpa died. My siblings and loyal parents gathered around the night before and sung them the nightly ritual of "Tis Love That Makes Us Happy" as well as a few other hymns. Tears were shed. Memories were shared. I thought that this would be the hardest, being awoken to a somber voice telling me, that "Grandpa went to sleep with Jesus."
It's not often that all seven of my siblings and I are together, aside from Christmas or Thanksgiving, or a big event that happens during the year. For two days during the week, there we are. Together.
The real pain was the aftermath. My grandma and grandpa have been tied at the hip for over 65 years. There was no Bob without Betty, and no Betty without Bob. They were one. She has for all of her life had him by her side.
Right now my Grandma is banging on her bedroom door. She refuses to go to sleep.
My mom and I went into her nicely re-decorated bedroom with a pink comforter and dolls to get her ready for bed. She kept snapping at us, saying "now he is mine and I have chosen him for all this time and I don't understand why you are doing this to me." She has taken quite a liking to my dad, and refuses to let anyone else have even a glance of him. I don't know how my mom does it. She calmly replies, "I know, Mom. I know you don't understand. I love you, Mom." As the ritual continues, we begin singing our evening song.
"Tis love that makes us happy
Tis love that smoothes the way
It helps us mind
It keeps us kind
To others
Everyday."
We get choked up, and both start crying. We hug each other. She is so confused. If she could see herself now in her right state of mind. If she knew that she is not a mean person. Even in her dementia, she doesn't fully understand what's going on, but she knows that a huge part of her is missing.
I can only hope to mimic the kind of love and care to my parents as mine have so humbly shown to my grandparents, and I can only hope to mimic the kind of love that they showed to each other, for their entire lives. When you get married, you vow to love each other as long as you both shall live. You vow to become one. I thought I had just lost my Grandpa, but my Grandma will never be the same either, because they were one.
Grandpa's love language was definitely not one of words, but rather of actions. I rarely remember sitting down just talking. I do however recall watching the infamous movie "It Takes Two" hundreds of times, sneaking ice cream away from Grandma, him picking me up absolutely whenever I needed him, gardening, going on walks, the list goes on. There are so many untold stories, so much that I still don't know! The thought of there being such a distinct beginning and end is just mind boggling. How can someone be here one minute, and be gone the next? How can it take nine months for someone to come into this world, and a second for them to go? Why does everyone come together when your born and when you die, but the life in between goes so fast? why. why. WHY? I want to know his stories, his life, where he came from. I was so close to him, and I still don't know him. Life seems so long, but it goes by so fast.
It's not often that all seven of my siblings and I are together, aside from Christmas or Thanksgiving, or a big event that happens during the year. For two days during the week, there we are. Together.
The real pain was the aftermath. My grandma and grandpa have been tied at the hip for over 65 years. There was no Bob without Betty, and no Betty without Bob. They were one. She has for all of her life had him by her side.
Right now my Grandma is banging on her bedroom door. She refuses to go to sleep.
My mom and I went into her nicely re-decorated bedroom with a pink comforter and dolls to get her ready for bed. She kept snapping at us, saying "now he is mine and I have chosen him for all this time and I don't understand why you are doing this to me." She has taken quite a liking to my dad, and refuses to let anyone else have even a glance of him. I don't know how my mom does it. She calmly replies, "I know, Mom. I know you don't understand. I love you, Mom." As the ritual continues, we begin singing our evening song.
"Tis love that makes us happy
Tis love that smoothes the way
It helps us mind
It keeps us kind
To others
Everyday."
We get choked up, and both start crying. We hug each other. She is so confused. If she could see herself now in her right state of mind. If she knew that she is not a mean person. Even in her dementia, she doesn't fully understand what's going on, but she knows that a huge part of her is missing.
I can only hope to mimic the kind of love and care to my parents as mine have so humbly shown to my grandparents, and I can only hope to mimic the kind of love that they showed to each other, for their entire lives. When you get married, you vow to love each other as long as you both shall live. You vow to become one. I thought I had just lost my Grandpa, but my Grandma will never be the same either, because they were one.
Grandpa's love language was definitely not one of words, but rather of actions. I rarely remember sitting down just talking. I do however recall watching the infamous movie "It Takes Two" hundreds of times, sneaking ice cream away from Grandma, him picking me up absolutely whenever I needed him, gardening, going on walks, the list goes on. There are so many untold stories, so much that I still don't know! The thought of there being such a distinct beginning and end is just mind boggling. How can someone be here one minute, and be gone the next? How can it take nine months for someone to come into this world, and a second for them to go? Why does everyone come together when your born and when you die, but the life in between goes so fast? why. why. WHY? I want to know his stories, his life, where he came from. I was so close to him, and I still don't know him. Life seems so long, but it goes by so fast.
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