electrical apocalypse

i could not stay awake
though the large earth quaked
and your voice came down to meet me

my eyes closed slowly
"hold me if you love me"
were the last words i heard you speak

remember the road east from nashville,
the morning in our eyes?
you wrote me love songs
while i told you lies

we thought "this will be forever
we thought the end would wait
now we're stumbling together
as the
electric
sun
breaks.

breathless

i woke up this morning on time.
i got to my 8:15 class on time.
i walked in the cold and felt alive.
today was beautiful because of those things.

i am now sitting at my desk in my room.
my ears are still cold from the walk i took in the damp evening.
i have my little desk lamp shining golden on me and knitted socks on my feet.
when i look to my right, there is a wall full of photographs. one of those photographs is of two little girls named Jenny and Nadine.
Jenny and Nadine are from Haiti.
they made me smile so much while i was with them.
they make me smile now.
Nadine with her funny pink bows and Jenny with her hands mid-clap.
tonight is beautiful because of those things.

the past year has left me breathless.
summer 2011 left me breathless. i saw children come to Christ and felt such a real community for the first time in my life.
fall 2011 left me breathless. all the darkness that had accumulated in my heart for the past few years infected my mind until i was under the control of my own sin and self-loathing. i wanted to kill myself, but was saved.
winter 2011 left me breathless. in Hosea it says that the Lord "will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth." that's how He came to me-gentle and real. this bleeding heart began one of the many healing processes it needed (needs, and will need) to go through.
spring 2012 left me breathless. i lost two people. one young and beautiful that i barely knew. one old and wise that i loved dearly and love more everyday. i was sick and tired and through. not with life, but with school and all i wanted was to move on.
summer 2012 left me breathless. i saw the most broken and the most beautiful place that i've ever seen. i met the strongest people. i saw God work huge things in little actions and words and prayers. i was humbled, isolated, and loved.

as this fall is coming to an end, i am beginning to catch my breath. or maybe i'm learning to breath a different way. i was talking to my mom over thanksgiving break about how little community i've found at school. how i felt a lone in my thoughts and beliefs and values and whatnot.
yesterday i began to realize. all this time i've been here, i've been wanting to "plug-in" or "put down roots" or "find fellowship." but that's not what God had for me.
this semester was about me and Jesus.
i get that now.
now don't get me wrong, i am not saying that i am not supposed to be fellowshipping or communing with other believers. what i'm saying is, i have spent the last year scrambling. just when i have thought i could start breathing, God has knocked the breath out of me. He has broken me. smashed me. crushed me. ground me into powder. mixed me with His grace. and now He is tenderly forming me into something new. i can feel it.
so although i've not completely "plugged in" to a group, i'm not worried.

Hosea one says this:
"Therefore, behold, I will allure her,
and will bring her into the wilderness,
and speak tenderly to her."

i had to make it to this special wilderness i'm in.
this new wilderness.
this wilderness where i can barely breathe because of all the past wildernesses. as i walk slowly through this, i hear a voice speaking tenderly to me.
it is Jesus.

bare wrists

so every year (especially during the summer) I collect bracelets. by the time the end of the year comes, my wrists are covered halfway up my forearm.
i love it. i love knowing that each bracelet is connected to a memory or a thought or people or all sorts of different things. i really do. and the only time having that many bracelets is a pain is when i get out of the shower or wash dishes. then my wrists are damp for the rest of the day.
but still i love it.

however, every year, i get to a point where i start anew. i shed my bracelets and bare my wrists. it's a cathartic process.

usually, that time comes with the new year or christmas or something.

but because i'm stressed out and wanted to do something drastic to channel that stress, i shed them today.
sitting in the library, working on a paper.

it feels so good and freeing to have clean arms and let go of the people/memories/heartache that are attached to the bracelets.
there's a picture on my photoblog, if you're interested.

forty eight/journal entry

i literally have never been so content as i am today.
and yet, i am absolutely yearning to go home. i want people i love all around me.
the people that i have felt infinite with.
i always feel so young and awkward and out of place. i’m waiting for the day when i wake up and i’m like “oh hey i belong.”
ha.
school gets so hilarious to me sometimes. a bunch of people reading books and hanging out and partying and doing what they love until they grow to hate it. how does that even work out?
i need to remember to be all here. i mean like, wherever i am, to be fully focused on that. too often, my mind wanders to the future, past, an alternate present...anything else except what i’m doing now.
it’s like selective attention deficit disorder or something.

le cafe.

"Jean-Jacques said that he always entered a cafe with a certain emotional disturbance"
-F.J.W. Hemmings. Baudelaire the Damned

i am currently sitting in my favorite cafe (that is also one of my most favorite places) writing a paper on Charles Baudelaire. i stumbled across that statement in one of the biographies i was perusing and i couldn't help but share it.
there is something magical about cafes/coffee houses.
there is an atmosphere of forgiveness, inspiration, and comfort.
they are a place where one goes to think, write, love, draw, speak, read, be still, and countless other good things.

a stranger that i recently met, named Raoul, said that he goes to cafes to "solve life's problems."

yes.

if you're not a coffee-drinker/cafe-goer, i pity you.
they are beautifully perfect little places.

cherry tomatoes

i've figured out the purpose of the grading system.
all my life (pretty much) i've been a good student. or i've cheated to seem like one. i've strived for a's and papers free of red markings and pats on the back and praise and every sort of accolade you can think of.
this is not because i've wanted to learn the topic well. if the school system really wanted people to learn, it would be grade-less and degree-less...but that's a different issue.
grades (and any other sorts of ranking/rewarding systems) exist because, more than anything else, humans are hungry for the assurance that they are okay.
from the day we are born, we want to know that everything's going to be alright. we want to know that we're alright.
think about it. when someone's grades are slipping, the first thing we think about is "i wonder if there's something going on at home" or some other cliche like that. the average american generally thinks that a person's (especially a young person's) academic performance is directly linked to their psychological condition. it's true.
now sometimes, this is the case. but personally, i think more often it is quite the opposite.
when everything around us is crumbling, we tend to cling on to something that will make us feel okay. we want assurance. we want to know that we're good at something or that we can succeed.
thus, the grade system.
i'm sure grades were originally conceived to reward those who worked hard and learned things thoroughly. now they have turned in to a necessary evil. something that consumes people and steals people's identities.
grades lie to young people everyday. i know. they've lied to me.
example: last year, i was taking 19 hours and working at the studio and heavily involved in church. i received a after a on my assignments and my professors loved me. i obviously was okay. my grades were great and people liked me.

uh. no.

i was freaking suicidal.
i wanted to die all of last fall semester. i was tired of life and tired of the pain all around me.
but still i strove for good grades. why?
because they lied to me.
they told me i was okay. they told me that everything was fine. they were something i could physically hold on to and display to everyone else to disguise my problems.
i had ran away from God.
and had began running towards academia.

fast forward one year.

my grades are the worst they've ever been. i have a b in all of my classes except one. i've gotten b after b on my papers. i'm not even that concerned, either. i'm actually very happy with school this year.
why?
because i know how okay i am. i also know how not-okay i am.
i don't need to be lied to.
i have been assured that it doesn't matter if i am "doing well."
no, no. it matters that i am living well.

i'm only taking fifteen hours next semester. that sounds like slacking off to me. even sharing that is slightly embarrassing. i'm excited though. because that means that i'll be rested and who knows, maybe i'll be well? what? is that even possible?

anyway, this is not a post to completely bash the grading system and school or say "hey, be a slacker!"
(i mean, i'm still trying and working hard)
this is just a post telling you that you're not okay. and if you are, it's probably definitely not because you have good grades. it's something so much more life-filled than that.

live on, friends.

p.s. i love cherry tomatoes and i just wanted to share that somehow.

forty seven

carpe diem!
he opened his eyes as the words shattered into little pieces all over his mind. while wondering if his dreams were actually real life (or vice-versa), he pulled on some jeans. his mom's voice could be heard in the next room coaxing his little sister out of bed. before he headed downstairs, he glanced at the mirror and nodded quickly. as he turned the hallway corner, he was faced with his little sister.
she was dressed in white.
he pointed to the banner in her hand, "what do you have, Claudia?"
it made him uneasy to see his buoyant little sister stand so very still. she didn't speak as she stretched her arms apart. as the banner was pulled tight, the words on it came into view.
carpe diem! 
it was painted on in eight-year-old brushstrokes.
he shivered a little as he walked past her and mumbled, "that's cool, sis."
his denim jacket lay on the banister. he put it on and pushed his hands into the pockets. something crumpled in his fingers. he pulled it out and smoothed it on the table as he ate his breakfast. it seemed to be a candy wrapper covered in vibrant designs. he strained his eyes to read the tiny print on the label.
carpe diem!
he said it out loud to himself many times. the first, "carpe diem." was stated in an apathetic tone. then next "carpe diem?" was asked in a bewildered way. the final, "carpe diem!" was not said but growled. he suspected his mom was pulling some sort of a joke. she had been telling him to get a life ever since his dad had died.
regardless of it being a joke or not, he wasn't laughing. he began to search for his mom to ask her what all of this was about and tell her he does have a life and so on. but she wasn't around. he grabbed his backpack full of books he never opened and walked outside.
his eyes flicked to his dad's car in the garage.
his dad had known very little of him. he had spent half of his life striving to preform, but his dad never noticed. then his dad died, so he stopped trying.
all these thoughts and disappointments were sprinting through his head as he walked to the bus stop. a car screeched to a halt so as to avoid hitting him. the window rolled down as the driver, his neighbor Lucas, began yelling. he flinched and expected a flood of explétives. but instead all that came out of Lucas's mouth was a loud and angry,
carpe diem!      
his eyes grew wide. this was too much.
"no!" he yelled back. then everything came. he yelled about how there was no point to everything. and how everyone expects too much of him for him to succeed, so why not just fail? he yelled about missing his dad. he yelled about hating his mom for no reason. he yelled about Claudia crying sometimes when he got angry.
all the time, Lucas the driver continued to repeat,
carpe diem!
it became said gentler and gentler until it was a comforting whisper.
by now tears were escaping his brown eyes.
the and Lucas the driver didn't see the car that was swiftly approaching.
there was a collision and an explosion.
carpe diem!
he opened his eyes as the words shattered into little pieces all over his mind. while wondering if his dreams were actually real life (or vice-versa), he pulled on some jeans.

*a note about the 52 weeks project: it has come to my attention that there are more than 5 weeks left in the year (not many, but i've still miscounted). i mean, i'll write til the end of the year, that's not the problem. the problem is how confusing it will be to see something labeled "fifty-three."
haha anyway, thanks for sticking with me for this long. we're almost done!

carpe diem.