Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Family
You know they say that you can't pick your family; I however beg to differ.
I haven't seen my"family" (aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.) for a long time, and when we do see each other, it is as awkward as strangers trying to talk to each other. I have a few people I love, who are actually like 3rd cousins, but as for the people who are supossed to be there; who are supposed to be family... I don't even know who they are. My Fathers side of the family fell apart when my Grandfather died, and then 10 months later the same thing happened my Mommom died. that was 6, and 5 years ago respectively. So you see since then I have made my own family. I chose people who wanted me, who wanted to know who I was, who needed me as much as I needed them. I choose my family, and they choose me. Plain and simple. When I am lost, when they are...when something is so important to tell someone, when I just need a hug, or they are hurting, they are the people I turn to; the people I love. THEY are my family, a piece of me, my heart, and blood and genetics has nothing to do with it! You can pick your family, I am here to tell you that!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Rain Storms, Homicidal Frogs and Feral Cats
Once Upon a Time;
We went for a very long walk on the beach in the dark of night and after many grievous and painful hours plowing towards our destination, the rain that had started off as an annoying drip began to pour down in cold slants against our backs. We plodded on through the harshest of weather and eventually made it to the towering pier that had for so long loomed in the distance. Aching for an escape from the ever moving sand sliding beneath our feet we crawled beneath the beams into the darkness and out onto the street. On we trod, determined now that we would have an easier journey, but alas it was to be ever out of reach of our grasps. Wet through and shivering we took the perilous and treacherous path just inches from the speeding cars ploughing down Highway 12. In front of me she shrieked and jumped and we heard its murderous cry loud and long. If frogs usually make a ribbit noise, then what in the world was that? Please don't leave me behind, the Homicidal Frogs will get me! Picking up speed isn't easy after so much plodding, but adrenaline does almost magical things to the body and soon we are all going at a pace that was... well honestly not much faster. The noises continued and we thought for sure that we were done for, and then green yellow eyes fixed in on us from the rushes and told us in no uncertain terms that this was their path and these frogs may be homicidal but they were also their property. FERAL CATS! Feral cats are dangerous, and our bodies are terribly cold now so when the lights of Haven breech our vision we make a mad dash across the slick blackness of the road and under the not-so-sheltering rim of the Sunoco station. Thank God for Ali or we might never have made it home alive!
We went for a very long walk on the beach in the dark of night and after many grievous and painful hours plowing towards our destination, the rain that had started off as an annoying drip began to pour down in cold slants against our backs. We plodded on through the harshest of weather and eventually made it to the towering pier that had for so long loomed in the distance. Aching for an escape from the ever moving sand sliding beneath our feet we crawled beneath the beams into the darkness and out onto the street. On we trod, determined now that we would have an easier journey, but alas it was to be ever out of reach of our grasps. Wet through and shivering we took the perilous and treacherous path just inches from the speeding cars ploughing down Highway 12. In front of me she shrieked and jumped and we heard its murderous cry loud and long. If frogs usually make a ribbit noise, then what in the world was that? Please don't leave me behind, the Homicidal Frogs will get me! Picking up speed isn't easy after so much plodding, but adrenaline does almost magical things to the body and soon we are all going at a pace that was... well honestly not much faster. The noises continued and we thought for sure that we were done for, and then green yellow eyes fixed in on us from the rushes and told us in no uncertain terms that this was their path and these frogs may be homicidal but they were also their property. FERAL CATS! Feral cats are dangerous, and our bodies are terribly cold now so when the lights of Haven breech our vision we make a mad dash across the slick blackness of the road and under the not-so-sheltering rim of the Sunoco station. Thank God for Ali or we might never have made it home alive!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Crying
Lately I have had this problem; I haven't been able to cry. This may sound a little weird especially if you know me—I don't cry, at least not around people if I can help it—if I cry I prefer to do so in the privacy of my room alone writing, reading, praying, or alone and watching a particularly sad movie that reminds me of something that hits homes and then bring on the tears! The only thing is lately I haven't even been able to do any of those things. Crying can be very cathartic and I could really use some catharses right about now. I am in so much pain and while this in and of it self does not make me cry, the pain builds up and eats at you emotionally and then there is family stuff and just crap that eats at you. Right about now I should really be able to cry, especially since I have had a migraine for the last 6 days that just keeps pounding away at my head; in fact right about a week ago I should have been able to cry but I can't. Oh sure I can muster up a tear or two, it is not as if my tear ducts are not working, and I can be effected emotionally by something but it's not enough. What I need right now is a gut wrenching, body shaking sob that makes you feel better somehow, the kind of cry that wrecks you and makes you feel cleaner, but I just can't seem to be able to cry and I don't know why. I have tried sad movies, music that always makes me feel something, pictures of those I love and have lost, I have tried so very hard to cry and I can't and this just makes me want to cry even harder.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
My Island
Sulfur salty air in my nose fills my body, lapping over me
The rushing waves smacking the sand in the distance with passionate kisses
Bitter sweet blue music over a sea of white moonlight playing in my mind
Delicious tinkling on the keys of soft reflective stars creating their own simple melody
Fingers of wind pull through my hair whispering seductively;
Close your eyes...
The shadow beneath me a beautiful friend wandering though this dream
Speak to my Heart with your music and wreck my soul with your crashing white crests.
My Friend, My Heart, My Peace
Break me, Wash me, Chase me
Never End.
I Feel it Now
I feel it now.
The passion to write. I didn't before, and then it hit me like a smack in the gut. It welled up and up in side of me and suddenly there was this thing; this feeling like my favorite sound in the world was my fingers hitting the keys of my computer pounding out thoughts and feelings flooding out and pouring over and I couldn't stop them, but whats more... I didn't want to. There is so much inside of me, I hide it and I well it up and then it explodes; in that way I am very much like my father and not my mother who is quick to temper and quick with the rest of her emotion but my father he bottles things up and up and up until the pressure builds and he explodes. I do the same thing with my thoughts and feelings. For a long time now I haven't really wanted to write—actually I haven't really wanted to do much of anything—but suddenly I do! I really want to get the things stuck in my head, out! I look at the things that my friends write, the poetry, the prayers, the ways things seem to flow so beautifully and suddenly I don't seem worthy of writing, my words don't come out smoothly seemingly given to them from the mouth of God himself. My words seem so regular so normal, and I didn't want to share my words if they weren't going to be something special. But something happened, something happened and it doesn't so much matter anymore what words I use, as long as they are the right ones. I look in the mirror and I don't see my dreams looking back at me anymore, they are slipping away and I don't want life to kill my dreams. I don't want to grope and grasp at them fading in front of my eyes something is rising up inside of me and I don't want it to stop. I told my mother I only have small wishes, I want my family to be happy—I mean true happiness—I want us to be healthy, I want a floor and a new sofa for my mother, a really good camera, my great friends... I have small wishes. My mother looked at me in the eyes and said, maybe that is the problem, you need to WISH BIG. I thought about it, and I see what she means now. I don't have the faith in God to give me the greatest desires of my heart, why should I? I don't deserve the big things, the great dreams, the happiness, because there are so many people who are so much more deserving. Why WHY would God give me more, when I have so much? I am not dying, I am not hungry, I have my family, and my home, why should I deserve anything more? I fight with him on this one, back and forth a lot when we talk. He knows I will never leave him, he knows I am here, I tell him that I can live with the pain, and the sickness, I can be complacent and never reach my dreams if only he will make the ones I love happy and healthy, if only he will care for them, it will be okay. I think maybe I am wrong though, I think God is like my mother; she is so broken hearted when I am sick, she gets so angry, she prays and prays for my pain to end...she wants my happiness. You know what, I get it now... why I deserve those things rising up in my heart; He is my father, my parent, and no parent gives something to one child and withholds it from another, no matter how deserving or undeserving. Not truly, not if they really love them, it's my faith...my love thats the problem, not his. I haven't given up. I may never get it all, but I am gonna try, I am not going to live like I am sick, but instead, I am going to live like I am dying. I am going to live my life like at the end of the day it might end, because I don't want to look back—weather or not I get wish, and live my dream—and see that I didn't live the life that God gave me. I have the faith of a mustard seed with My Great Fathers love I believe that it will grow.
The passion to write. I didn't before, and then it hit me like a smack in the gut. It welled up and up in side of me and suddenly there was this thing; this feeling like my favorite sound in the world was my fingers hitting the keys of my computer pounding out thoughts and feelings flooding out and pouring over and I couldn't stop them, but whats more... I didn't want to. There is so much inside of me, I hide it and I well it up and then it explodes; in that way I am very much like my father and not my mother who is quick to temper and quick with the rest of her emotion but my father he bottles things up and up and up until the pressure builds and he explodes. I do the same thing with my thoughts and feelings. For a long time now I haven't really wanted to write—actually I haven't really wanted to do much of anything—but suddenly I do! I really want to get the things stuck in my head, out! I look at the things that my friends write, the poetry, the prayers, the ways things seem to flow so beautifully and suddenly I don't seem worthy of writing, my words don't come out smoothly seemingly given to them from the mouth of God himself. My words seem so regular so normal, and I didn't want to share my words if they weren't going to be something special. But something happened, something happened and it doesn't so much matter anymore what words I use, as long as they are the right ones. I look in the mirror and I don't see my dreams looking back at me anymore, they are slipping away and I don't want life to kill my dreams. I don't want to grope and grasp at them fading in front of my eyes something is rising up inside of me and I don't want it to stop. I told my mother I only have small wishes, I want my family to be happy—I mean true happiness—I want us to be healthy, I want a floor and a new sofa for my mother, a really good camera, my great friends... I have small wishes. My mother looked at me in the eyes and said, maybe that is the problem, you need to WISH BIG. I thought about it, and I see what she means now. I don't have the faith in God to give me the greatest desires of my heart, why should I? I don't deserve the big things, the great dreams, the happiness, because there are so many people who are so much more deserving. Why WHY would God give me more, when I have so much? I am not dying, I am not hungry, I have my family, and my home, why should I deserve anything more? I fight with him on this one, back and forth a lot when we talk. He knows I will never leave him, he knows I am here, I tell him that I can live with the pain, and the sickness, I can be complacent and never reach my dreams if only he will make the ones I love happy and healthy, if only he will care for them, it will be okay. I think maybe I am wrong though, I think God is like my mother; she is so broken hearted when I am sick, she gets so angry, she prays and prays for my pain to end...she wants my happiness. You know what, I get it now... why I deserve those things rising up in my heart; He is my father, my parent, and no parent gives something to one child and withholds it from another, no matter how deserving or undeserving. Not truly, not if they really love them, it's my faith...my love thats the problem, not his. I haven't given up. I may never get it all, but I am gonna try, I am not going to live like I am sick, but instead, I am going to live like I am dying. I am going to live my life like at the end of the day it might end, because I don't want to look back—weather or not I get wish, and live my dream—and see that I didn't live the life that God gave me. I have the faith of a mustard seed with My Great Fathers love I believe that it will grow.
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