sinister kid

it's astounding to me how okay I am with my own sin.
do I hate my sin?
why yes, I do.
do I want to let go of my sin?
absolutely not.
it's ridiculous.

I've been mulling over something my mother said to me today. We were having one of our many discussions about college and she said something that completely took me by surprise.
She told me I needed to move far away for school.
What.
If you know my mom, you know she dislikes change and loves having her kiddos all around her and loves being at home. If there's anything in the world that I do that she despises-it's galavanting all over. Let me stress that again-she loves having me home. (not that I'm incredible or anything-because I'm not-it's just something she wants for all of her children)

So when she said that I was thrown for quite a loop. (I think that's a saying)
She told me that I was in "a rut" and needed to get out and go.
I told her that I'm pretty content right now and blablabla excuse after excuse.
I even got a little offended that she would presume to say that I'm not the most joyful person on the planet. ha.
Later on, some things hit me:
a. my mother knows what she's talking about.
b. I'm in a rut. I've been in a rut. I've known that, but I haven't done anything real to get out of that rut.

It's true. Last semester was awful and I've been very reactionary with this semester. More than anything, I don't want to be in the same place emotionally, spiritually, or mentally as last semester. But I'm still in the same place, physically. I mean, I still live here, in Chattanooga, and go to Chatt State.
how have I dealt with that?
well, the little sinister kid inside me has reverted to a selfish sort of "escapism". I've skipped class more than ever this semester. Not always (but sometimes) because I'm sick. Just because class is awful and I don't want to go. I've been lazy with my relationships. I've quit trying because it's hard and last semester was hard and I don't want this semester to be hard. (follow my logic?) The result of this whole thing is me just feeling like I'm in a rut and doing superfluous things to get out of that rut. I rationalized all of these things to myself by saying I was "keeping life adventurous" or "taking time for myself". but really, all I've been is selfish. I've dug myself a hole with my selfishness. And, instead of starting to build a ladder to get out of it, I just keep digging.

This isn't a post full of revelations like "and everything is now changed!" or promises like "so from now on, I'm going to be incredibly selfless and sell everything I own and join a convent (that's a bit overkill...)" I don't know what's going to happen. I just know that I'm forgiven, loved, and my mother is wise and I should open my ears more to what she has to say.

Sorry this is so long.
The End.

p.s. the title comes from this song-which actually played a huge part of today and these thoughts and so on.

eleven

.bradford pear memories.
-i am young and eager to run with the others. there is a stump in my yard with holes and hallways for little things to live in.
-it is spring and the sun is beginning to burn my skin. it turns pink and little freckles appear on my face and arms and shoulders. my body begins to turn leather brown in preparation for the season ahead. but for now, it is spring.
-the harsh smell of the dainty white flowers above my eyes and hair and head envelops my street as i walk to my neighbor's house to play and giggle about all the secrets that we have.
-we laugh because we are young we play because we it is spring we live for the sun and the flowering branches.

ten/journal entries

snippets from my journaling from the road trip I took over spring break.
nothing monumental.
just memories.

day one:
we went to work out at walmart and ate fro yo on the quaint streets of old city Franklin. we ignored the monotone voice telling us to "wait" at the light-over and over again and walked whenever we wanted, because afterall, we're liberated.

day two:
today was marvelous, I can't help but forget my chronic melancholy on an adventure such as this. I love these girls, I loved the treehouse (so astounding) I loved getting to see Jacob, I love this mountain, I love the rain (ish), and I love camping. I so enjoy feeling so in tune with the earth. There's nothing like a good, cold, wet night to make you feel like a weathered explorer.

day three:
-Sweet hikers named Trina and Jerry lent us their nifty little can opener. Trina's soft voice was delightfully accented and matched her feather-like eyebrows and red hair.
-We were going to howl at the moon like little lady wolves, but- we cannot see the moon!
such a tragedy!

day four:
"I'm tired out!"-Bethany while standing in a pile of tires. We went to the recycling center as the golden sun sunk below the urban landscape that surrounded us. Shadows danced on the cylinders of waste all covered in bright colors.

day five:
the word mountain is mentioned in the Bible 175 times.

things

1) Kony 2012. look it up. there's a lot of hype about it-but this issue deserves every facebook share and twitter post.
2) Tallest man on earth. Especially "Honey Won't You Let me In?"
3) Packing for an adventure.
4) dried mango
5) mountains.
6) Oscar Wilde
7) Empty memory cards and new film. just waiting.
8) four-strand braids
9) Grace. unshaken, overwhelming, beautiful grace. The type that washes over me like a tsunami.
10) being able to see clearly. hooray for new contacts.


praedicare veritatem.

happy birthday Jessica

once there was a girl and her friend.
coffee they drank a lot, the end.
except they haven't ended the story yet, for real.
there are still two hearts in kayaks for them to steal.
it all began in their hammocks so fine.
they were laying in the sun and wasting away time.



then what to their wondering eyes did appear?
two young boys with hearts (one had a thick beard!)
as the strapping young lads from their car did emerge
a feeling of true love in the girl's heart did surge.
then the boys took off their shirts and the girls giggled and rolled.
then the boys unloaded their kayaks and paddles to hold.



one was tall with wild, curly locks.
to prepare for adventure, he shed his thick socks.
the other wore a flat-bill as green as the trees.
the way they readied for the river made the girls weak in the knees.



the girls packed up their hammocks and turned to go
-hoping that soon alongside the boys (in kayaks) they would row.
the boys spotted the girls and it was love at first sight.
so they paddled off together in the afternoon light.



I would tell you how it all ended, but I'm sorry, I just won't.
because the girls in this story are liberated women and they do what they want.

the end.

winter

something from my "streams of consciousness" or whatever it is I write all the time.

I thought I'd share before the spring.


I've always loved winter.
I used to like it because that's when Christmas is and I was a selfish little kid who wanted to fill myself with sweets and get lots of presents. When I got older I liked winter because it meant seeing family and no school and laughing a lot. When I hit high school, I liked it because I thought it was cool and a little bit edgy- because, I mean, who really likes winter anyway?
Although time has passed and I've gotten a little bit older, I still love winter.
It's still my favorite.
I love it because it's a reflection of where I am in life- really it's a reflection of where all of humankind is(andhasbeen) in life.
Winter is cold.
Winter is bare.
Underneath the beautiful clothing of soft white snow and grey days is a deep sort of ugliness. It has all the potential to be stunning-it just depends on the viewer.
The most common thread between winter and man is that they are both waiting, longing, hoping, dreaming about Spring.
Spring-when life begins.
Spring-when earth and men are how they should be- lovely and blooming.
But the dead silence of winter and of man has to happen before the life of Spring and eternity.
The heart has to be completely cold before it can be warmed with light and live.
So that's why I love winter.
It is the only season I can empathize with.

praedicare veritatem.
proclaim truth.

nine

so I never listen during world civilizations two. the teacher drones on and on and on and makes history (something extremely fascinating) seem as exciting as watching a lightbulb flicker. you think something might happen-that the lightbulb might burst or settle down or something-but nothing ever does. and it's awful.
so usually...
I just think onto paper. it's not always good and put together. but yeah I thought I'd share.

this was written yesterday:

there's a lot to be said about people who make art. I think they are generally thought of as do-nothings and cop-outs. the type of people who have too many feelings and too much time on their hands. I guess this is somewhat true.
however, artists are a crucial part of society.
artists give other people something visual to connect with the quiet whispers of their heart and mind. a lawyer or a doctor or any other person that actually "does something" for the world can look at a piece of art and understand life more.
an artist becomes a cop-out when they stop trying to say anything. they become a do-nothing when they don't care and want to make art for art's sake.