Delivering signs and dusting from their eyes

So, I've been thinking about you lately.
And, I wonder. Do I ever cross you're mind?

On my birthday, of course. I already knew that one. When is your birthday? I don't even know. All those little details have slowly seeped from my mind. Much as I've tried to hang on to them. I remember when I saw you a year or so ago. For the first time in so long. You sat on the couch near me, and I edged away.

"We're all here" you said "a family"

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

What have I lost from being without you?


It's too late for me to be awake.


I count the days the Great Frontier. Forgiving, faced the seventh year I stand in awe of gratefulness. I can and call forgetfulness

Ever Falling Down

Alot is going on . But what's so new about that? I've had to do a lot of re-evaluating and self examination lately, and truly? I don't like what I see.

What have I become?

A hypocrite.

I claim to be a Christian, and I claim to to know God, but what on earth am I talking about? Sure, I know what I'm supposed to do. Do I do it? No. I'm farther away from God than I have been in a long time, and it's my doing. I ignore my moral values. I ignore my Christian friends. I let temptation and sin seep into my life like poison, and I'm so...tired of it.

One day, I'm going to have to answer for all of this . I'll have to look Him in the face, and explain myself. When questioned, what will I do? Cry? Beg? Explain away my past errors? How do I explain setting foot on a path so blatantly treacherous? '

I don't even know myself anymore.

God help me for ever finding out.

Through the day , as if on an ocean waiting here , always failing to remember why we came.


Italy is actually happening. I almost can't believe it. Except, I had better get used to the idea fast because I have five months to basically become amazing in Italian, get my visa, apply for college, finish my graduation project, and do 60 hours community service for graduation.
Maybe I'll be too busy with preparations to really notice the fact that I am literally leaving everyone and everything I've ever known. I'll be thousands of miles away. That's sort of a frightening thought for me. What will I do without skipper. What about Erica, who I talk to everyday for hours? Who will I confide in? My parents? My friends? What will I do? How will it feel, I wonder, to walk through security at the airport, and leave behind everything? It'll feel exhilerating, terrifying, and sad. But it will also feel liberating, I can imagine. Finally, to get away from everything stupid here. Everything stupid I've ever done. In Europe, nobody will know who I am. Nobody will see those mistakes etched on my face.

here we are. stuck by this river. you and I, underneath the sky that's ever falling down

Breezes

It's beautiful out. it's nearly 9:30 at night , but the air is still warm and complacent. All of the windows in my house are open, and a warm breeze is circulation through the house, enveloping me. My house is dark. The dog is asleep, and the kitten is relaxing on the couch. My sheets and comforters are in the dryer ,and I look forward to sleeping in something clean and warm tonight. I have the TV on mute, and the office is only illuminated by the light of the computer screen. I hear ticking. I assume it's the clocks. I say clock's because we have many. Many exotic, original, handmade clocks that my mom finds in exotic, original shops in the ever -so-ethnic downtown Bethlehem. My favorite one is a big rectangle, with three rectangles cut out of the middle of it. I can barely see what time it is on this particular clock, as its all in roman numerals, and covered in frilly swirly designs. But it's my favorite just the same, as it reminds me of something beautiful out there. My house is full of strange things such as this. Things from ( or at least inspired by) far away places.

I've never been good at leaving. Or, letting go rather. I'm always the type of person who keeps friendships, keeps things going. I want to go, I want to stay. Change, as inevitable as it is, is difficult.

The night is still warm, and the breeze is still flowing in and out of the windows.

It's sort of late, and I'm sort of tired.

I've decided that I no longer know anybody.

What a relief it will be to, next year, step foot in another country, and actually NOT know anyone , as opposed to my current situation where it seems I am continually disippointed by the people who I am supposed to care about. Nobody is who they seem. What a despairing thought!I feel as though I am constantly exerting myself; forever trying to beee nice to everyonnnee. Not pissss offf anyonneee. And in return? I get shit smeared on my face. Every time. At this point, it's like, what IS the point? I defend people, and then get treated like shit. It's so frusterating. School is slowly becoming intolerable, as everyday I'm confronted by how shitty of a friend I really am.

Whatever.

http://www.jackson.k12.mo.us/vocal/Audio/HS/Chamber/14%20My%20Master%20From%20a%20Garden%20Rose/14%20My%20Master%20From%20a%20Garden%20Rose.htm

My Master in a garden lay, perfumed with spices rare; for tender hands had laid Him there , to rest amid the roses. On cross they laid Him bare, and pierced His hands with nails, that we might live again .

I remember it clearly. Even though the evening was rather sophmoric. Banal, even. I fell asleep late that evening, heedless of my promise to go to church the next morning. I woke up in a fine mood. Maybe even a good mood. At this point, I really couldn't tell you anymore. But there was none of that " I had a feeling something was wrong" stuff that you always hear about.

The day was very much like today. It was cold, and there might have been a little bit of snow on the ground. Maybe. There was a breeze. The air was algid, and frost swirled and spiraled around our feet. The sky was clear, and the clouds had that pinkish tint to them all day. Very light at the edges, then greyish salmon and blue within the center.

That was a year ago. How can that be? In my mind, it has not been that long. It seems like only yesterday. But in reality, time has truly passed. When I think of all the things that have happened since then, the numbers are great. The emotions are so fresh in my mind, but my memory has dulled.


My Master from a garden rose to go for us to heaven, and He will come and take us there. Take us there to be with Him . To be with him forever. Alleluia!

http://www.jackson.k12.mo.us/vocal/Audio/HS/Chamber/14%20My%20Master%20From%20a%20Garden%20Rose/14%20My%20Master%20From%20a%20Garden%20Rose.htm

My Master in a garden lay, perfumed with spices rare; for tender hands had laid Him there , to rest amid the roses. On cross they laid Him bare, and pierced His hands with nails, that we might live again .

I remember it clearly. Even though the evening was rather sophmoric. Banal, even. I fell asleep late that evening, heedless of my promise to go to church the next morning. I woke up in a fine mood. Maybe even a good mood. At this point, I really couldn't tell you anymore. But there was none of that " I had a feeling something was wrong" stuff that you always hear about.

The day was very much like today. It was cold, and there might have been a little bit of snow on the ground. Maybe. There was a breeze. The air was algid, and frost swirled and spiraled around our feet. The sky was clear, and the clouds had that pinkish tint to them all day. Very light at the edges, then greyish salmon and blue within the center.

That was a year ago. How can that be? In my mind, it has not been that long. It seems like only yesterday. But in reality, time has truly passed. When I think of all the things that have happened since then, the numbers are great. The emotions are so fresh in my mind, but my memory has dulled.


My Master from a garden rose to go for us to heaven, and He will come and take us there. Take us there to be with Him . To be with him forever. Alleluia!