New Years Resolutions

A new year approaches. A brand new, never before seen 365 days, maybe even 366. All untouched, all awaiting their turn to have the stories of 6 billion people written on them. All hoping to be a remembered day in history. The sun has set on this year, a year of change. For me, 2007 has been a year of learning, of growing, and of trials. A year that, as of now, I'm not particularly fond of. Often change brings discomfort, like wet jeans, or braces. But I hope to look back on this year and see the good in it someday.
A new year approaches, a fresh beginning, or at least we tell ourselves that. However unless we're all switching families and friend circles, unless we're all trading up our places on the globe, I think we've kind of got to work with what we've got. So then maybe we're not starting over, maybe the changes will be small, maybe they'll have bigger ramifications, maybe there will be little change at all.
Whatever awaits in the new year, I hope to find the blessings in disguise. To appreciate the coincidences that aren't actually coincidences. I'll find humility in defeat, learn from making mistakes, love more after heartache and empathize with others through my suffering. So I'll keep my head towards the sunshine, I won't hide my tears in the rain. I'll embrace every moment with optimism, inhale deeply, and never stop.

Just Another Petty Issue

You know what? I do care, so much, about everything. And I'm trying so hard not to be a bad person. I don't want to hate you. I don't want to hate anyone. But maybe it's too late for that, maybe you're just too good at reading me, somehow you know everything anyways. And I don't really care how you found out, I don't really care that you know. Well I do, but I care more about what you're gonna do about it. Are you going to tell the world? Are you going to sit and brood about it like I am? I don't trust you, let's be honest about that one. And I can't stand that you're two faced. I bugs me that you won't own up to your actions, and that you're manipulative. But the worst part is that people still like you through it all. It's not like you're all that hard to see through. And ya, that's pretty harsh, but c'mon you've already judged me pretty thoroughly too. But really, the part that cuts into me, that part that slices right through me, is the fact that I'm jealous. So jealous, jealous of how you talk to him, jealous of how he looks at you. Jealous that you two have something, something I want, with all my heart. But you don't appreciate that, i don't think you love him. Love, do you even know what that means? If you know how I feel, if you could understand even a fraction of how much i care about him, then I'd like to think things would be different. But don't worry, I won't do anything, I can't, but even if i could... I would never purposefully cause him unhappiness. If you make him happy, if you're the one he wants, then I'm gonna have to be okay with that. Even if I don't understand, and believe me, I don't understand. It's not even your problem, we're not even friends. You get the guy and never look back. The guy of my dreams, but no regrets right? So when you catch me staring at you, and him, take it as a compliment, because I'd give my entire world for him to want to be with me. But it's not like the fairytale is it? There's no happily ever afters here, and sometimes the evil stepsister gets the Prince. Don't take offense though, because if you're the evil stepsister then I'm just the village idiot, who got too attached, who loved a teddy bear that could never return her love. He doesn't even know who I am; I mean the real me. It's not like I try to hide that person, I start off each day with a fresh outlook, but the minute I step through those doors, I change. It's for protection. Don't let anyone get too close. Never close enough to hurt me, never close enough to know me. I admire you if you've broken past all that, and maybe you deserve him, maybe I'm a liar. It's not like you know me.

Highschool

Maybe in a year or two
When we're all a little bit older
Maybe then we'll understand

That this was all unnecessary
We created our problems
Maybe we'll understand
Maybe in a year or two

Maybe in a year or two
When we're no longer friends
And it no longer matters

Maybe then we'll understand
The stupidity of it all
And how our choices made it worse
Maybe in a year or two

I hope it wasn't for nothing
Maybe in a year or two
We'll see the purpose

Maybe in a year or two
Maybe then we'll understand

Inspiration

The glowing of street lamps
The sound of the cras
The cigarette smoke
Can't forget where you are

I long for the silence
Away from the crowds
To dwell in the undertones
To live in the now

No worrying about egos
Or those who take offense
And there's no one to remind you
About the consequence

Get away from the ocean
Lie down by the stream
Where you can fail by yourself
And not disappoint the team

Something about solitude
And those few simple moments
See the world by yourself
And you feel like you own it

But with the glare of the street lamps
And the noise of the cars
All that cigarette smoke
Can't forget where you are

Story of A Bleeding Heart

Can I take away this pain; from you, from everyone?
We've talked for hours about this, but we take this road that never seems to get us anywhere.
Can I take away these tears; from you, from everyone?
I'll gladly take them instead so that I don't have to see you cry.
Can I take away this burden; from you, from everyone?
And even though the weight will bear down on me, I'm just glad you won't have to feel it.
Can I take away this heartache; from you, from everyone?
Please break my heart instead and then yours can remain whole.
Can I take away the pressure; on you? on everyone?
Take away all the barriers and limitations that stop you from just being you.
Can I take away the hunger; from you, from everyone?
Endure all the relentless cravings, so you'll never starve again.
Can I take insecurity away; from you, from everyone?
I'm willing to feel small, so that you can walk with your head held high.
Can I take away these fears; from you, from everyone?
I'll be blinded by the invading dark, but you'll take this light and never fear again.
Can I take away this grieving; from you, from everyone?
I'll deal with the sorrows and mourning of death, so that you can contine living.
Can I take away all sickness; from you, from everyone?
Suffer through the effects of diseases, so that you can drink to your good health.
Can I take away all the troubles and problems felt by you, and everyone?
So that you can live in a perfect world, and when you're ready, maybe you can come back and help me.

The Messenger

Her sobs echo form the other end of the receiver, the message had hit her like a brick. I wasn't the cause of the tears, however I had brought forward the news. I was stuck in the crossfire between two forces that refused to talk it out. Receiving half of the story, then relaying it and receiving the other half. Though somehow, try as I might, I failed to deliver the entire message to either end. Every conversation ends in tears or denial, never reaching a conclusion. For each exchange is one sided, seen only from a narrow perspective. One cannot be objective when they are the object, and the messenger simply knows too much. even if the messenger could be objective, they are also asked to be a friend to both parties and therefore it all becomes more complicated. Trust is broken, promises shattered, promises made under false pretenses, promises made without the intent of keeping them. This messenger plays the double agent, the traitor, the disloyal friend. So when the day is through, although the two sides face sadness and anger, it is the messenger that bears all the feelings of frustration, of betrayal, and of loss. even with the best intentions, the messenger often takes the blame. Maybe that's where it belongs, or maybe nobody else will own up. Admittedly, the messenger sometimes seems to only be stirring the pot which is when some things, true things, are better left unsaid. Somewhere along the way, it will all come back around to the messenger, sending them back past where they began. And when I pick myself up now, I'm limping.
"Don't kill the messenger." Well, if you leave them alone long enough, they'll kill themselves.

Disclaimer

If these words mean nothing
If this breath is wasted
If it's fallen on weeds
If you can't bear to face it
You can throw it away
Ignore it completely
Like seeds to the wind
Discard it discretely
And don't feel guilty
That you've wasted my time
I've cast this before you
Like pearls before swine
So thanks for your patience
As I just babble on
Maybe it'll all mean something
After I'm gone

A Sliver of Truth

Kristenne pulled her sleeves tighter down her arms, it was finally beginning to feel like winter. The leaves were reluctantly leaving the trees, their harvest colours lost beneath many trampling feet. She should have been in school, it was almost 2:00, and her fourth period university English class was beginning. Surely someone had noticed, maybe even phoned home, but then again, maybe not, it was more likely the attendance would be assumed incorrect. But this is a good excuse anyways right? Surely when it comes down to it, friendship trumps school. She could hear the slow trickling creek, blocked with twigs and compost. She could smell the smoke before she saw it. anger burned inside her, he promised! His back was turned to her, but there was no doubt in her mind, she recognized him by his stance. Her footsteps shifted the gravel, and he glanced back at her. It wasn't until she was mere feet away that he tossed down the cigarette and put it out with the sole of his shoe.
"Hey." He said, his voice drawling and gruff.
"Ya, hey." Her jaw was set, her eyes hard and emotionless.
"I'm only in town for a couple of hours..." He made a feeble attempt at conversation.
"And then what?"
"Then I take a bus and play at a gig."
"Fun..." There was no sincerity in her voice.
"Ya. So what's up with you?"
"Well, I'm skipping school to meet with a stranger."
"Huh?"
"Never mind, it doesn't matter anymore, I shouldn't have come." Her tone was icy.
"What's your problem?"
"Well, should we recap? Okay, I'll make this brief since you're not worth my time anymore. First you totally ditch on New Years Eve to see a girl you hardly know, and I lie for you. Second, I find out you've been drinking and smoking and possibly dealing and I keep quiet. Then you run away from home and ask me to meet you here, and I had hoped you'd changed, but clearly you haven't, so I don't even know why I'm here." She watched his face closely for any sign of emotion, but he, like herself, was skilled at concealing his true feelings.
"You didn't have to come."
"That's all you have to say?! Why did you ask me to come?"
"I had hoped you would lend me some money and some bus tickets, and.... and i came to say that I'm not six anymore."
Kristenne's face burned. "Shane, I really don't ever want to see you again." She dug through her pockets and grabbed a bus ticket. Tossing it on the ground she scuffed it in the dirt, "Go home Shane." And she turned away, unable to see the hurt flash across his eyes.
Instead of going home, Kristenne wandered along the edge of the creek, still breathing heavily. The branches cut her cheeks, and the trickle of blood was mixed with tears; tears of anger, tears of frustration. They had known each other forever, maybe longer. they had once walked the same path, and now they were running, sprinting, in opposite direction. Friendship wasn't something that came easily to Kristenne, she could never seem to hang on to them. Independence suited her just fine, but now and again, the human desire for relationships took over and wrenched her out of her safe secluded world. But when that happened, when she tried her legs in the social community, she always ended up falling and breaking her heart.
She stopped to pick some of the burs out of her hair. the prickly balls scratching her skin but not actually cutting through. the relationship with Shane and his family had been on pins and needles for a while. And you just cut the final thread, the last connection on a sixteen year friendship, props to you.
There were no more tears, that stage was over, tears didn't make a difference. Tears only let people know something was wrong, and Kristenne was tired of fighting those battles. So there would be no more tears, and no more letting people in, or letting people down.
The autumn sun made it seem later than it was, probably only 5:00, but the sun had almost set. Almost dinner time, excuses now running through her head, Kristenne began the journey home. "Stayed late at school, not hungry, going to bed." Mumbling as she walked past the kitchen and up the stairs into her room. yet another occasion when she desperately wanted a lock on her door. To lock out her family, to lock away all her feelings, and everything that would remind her of this day. The sketches on her walls, the small comforts, visions of understanding and expression. She pulled out old photo albums, covered in dust and the dirt from many hands long ago. Pictures of summer vacations, campfires, and car rides. Innocent, smiling, chocolate covered faces, all unaware of the future ahead. Kristenne realized that there was no one she could stay mad smiling six year old missing his two front teeth that stared up at her. Even if that wasn't the person he was anymore, nothing can change the past, and that past made them who they are. So there was nothing left for Kristenne to do expect love Shane for who he is, and hope that by not giving up on him, she can impact his life. She pulled another bus ticket out of her pocket and hesitated. After a moment she grabbed her phone and began texting, "Where did you say that gig was?"

Stuck in the Past

Dark hair, dark eyes,
And he's found a darker side to life
I couldn’t hold him back, for long
Gone are the days
When we would laugh the time away
I really miss them now,
But you’ve seemed to somehow,
Forgotten who you were when we were small.
You can’t handle it all.
I’m not trying to hold you back
I’m not trying to keep you here
We all cut you some slack
We knew the time was near
But we never could imagine
All the stupid things you’d do
And however hard we tried
The message wasn’t getting through
We know its your choice
And you won’t take no for an answer
You’re more stubborn than us all
But out there there’s much to fear

Loaded Questions

When is forever? How do we get there? How can something have no beginning and no end? How can we not understand the concept of just always being, and trust it? But being where? Heaven? Who's going? When do we get there? Right after we die? Or at the end of time? And what's with tribulation? Why would God make his people suffer? Why couldn't he banish Satan now? And Lucifer, the fallen angel, how could someone have fallen from God's grace when there is no sin in heaven? Have others fallen? Will others fall? If that's even possible, we must have free will in heaven, and yet we're going to be pure and clean. Can anyone be redeemed if they fall? What would happen if the devil repented, truly repented? What should our feelings be towards Satan? Should it be hate even though we're told to love our enemies? Should it be pity or compassion, while we're told to have nothing to do with him? Or should we simply humble ourselves to never understanding? But how can we become humble? Because if one was truly humble, the would never acknowledge it. And what's the use of striving for perfection if we'll never reach it? And if God seperates us from our sins, as far as the east is from the west, if he washes us clean and white as snow, and promises not to hold our sins against us, then what will we be judged on come judgement day? Will our old sins be reviewed? Or sins that were never confessed? And why would a loving God do this if he doesn't want us to feel guilty, or worthless, or embarressed? How can any of these things be answered? What is this thing I believe?

Song for Dad

The little girl sits on her Daddy's knee,
He plays with her ringlets, she says, "Pretty please,
Will you tell me a story before I go to bed?"
He nods and she smiles and he kisses her head.

"How bout a story about Jesus Christ?
He lived and he died and he loves you for life."
And she said, "Oh Daddy, I love Jesus too,
I want him in my heart, now what do I do?"

The little girl's older, not little anymore.
Her Daddy can't wait for what God has in store.
He watched as she's baptized, his eyes start to swim.
He can't hide the tears, as she walks back to him.

She says, "I love you Daddy, you showed me to Christ,
And now it's to him that I give up my life.
I hope you'll both guide me for all of my days.
You've shown that you'll love me for now and always."

His little girl there, tears of joy in her eyes.
He wipes them away, he says "Honey don't cry,
You're a beautiful bride and today is your day,
And I hope that I'm ready to give you away."

They never knew life would pass by them so fast.
But they'll have their memories and a wonderful past.
Daddy showed daughter God's love from the start,
And she'll always hold him a place in her heart.

Starlight, Starbright, First Star I See Tonight, Wish I May, Wish I Might, Have the Wish I Wish Tonight

The stars shine so bright tonight in the clear black sky. The night is fresh, the chill sets in, and the stars twinkle from millions of miles away. We'll never be able to reach them, at least in this lifetime. Their secrets will be kept for eternity, winking at us from just beyond our reach, just beyond our comprehension. One can lay awake all night staring at the stars and be no closer to understanding the vastness of the galaxy, the enormity and complexity of the universe. Star gazing on a blanket, with the evening dew seeping through. Pointing out the hidden constellations and waiting for a shooting star. It's romantic, it relaxing, it's inspirational. The night sky is something we will never be able to duplicate. The moon stands out beyond all other night orbs. The closest heavenly body, and yet still so utterly unreachable while we stand firmly on earth. The stars tell us time, and season. Some say they predict the future, or maybe they just tell stories. They help us dream, they give us goals. Even if those goals are ultimately unreachable. It's something to hope for, something to strive for, something that is better. To define a star as a burning ball of gas is to lose so much of the meaning. It takes away the awe and wonder. To define a human being as a skeleton with flesh and blood is to take away the life. The stars are indescribable, almost infinite, endless, constant and reliable. The stars shine bright in the clear black sky. The night is young, a star falls. How many wish on it tonight?

And the Greatest of These

In this life, if we can accomplish nothing else, may we love someone. If there is only enough love in your heart for one person, then love that person whole heartedly. Love them with kindness, with patience, with generosity, with selflessness, with understanding, with truth, with loyalty, for this is what love is. If love can be given to just one person in your lifetime, then it was worth it, your life has made a difference. loving another may never grant you anything in return. there may be no recognition on earth, there may be no praise from man. But your heavenly father knows your heart, and great will be your reward in heaven. The greatest miracle is to love and be loved in return. And even if you are never loved in return, love is never a mistake. Love is never wrong, there is no person that is unlovable. For everyone desires love and affection, and love will never fail.

Positions Available

It's truly incredible the length to which people go in order to be involved in conflict. it's amazing how our population thrives on drama, just as long as the drama isn't surrounding us personally. In general, females are more susceptible to this kind of destructive behaviour, and the power of a single phrase, a single word is vastly underestimated time and time again. There are a large quantity of people spectacularly gifted in the art of manipulation and the slight twisting of words. By taking a quote out of context, or by using different emphasis, the entire meaning could drastically shift. This often causes what is commonly known as a misunderstanding, this often sounds like, "What the hell are you talking about!?" Misunderstandings breed conflict, and where's there's conflict, there's unrelated bystanders who don't have their own lives. These no-name witnesses frequently happen to be working for the rumour mill, (fill out an application at (www.gotbs?.com) The untraceable people who fly beneath the radar, the people nobody considers influential enough to make a difference, these are the people supplying the drama. and one can attempt to squash a rumour, but this is easier said than done. This involves tracing the rumour back to it's source, which is rather difficult, owing to the fact that rumour mill employees are very talented at what they do. They're masters at spinning webs of deceit, referencing fake sources, and forcing others to vow never to reveal from whom they received their information. These people are everywhere, they're closer to you than you think, or maybe, it's you....

Past, But Not Forgotten

Somewhere buried deep inside my subconscious mind is a memory. An imprint of what was and the dream of what could have been. The voices still echo clearly, the past not quite so long forgotten, and something rekindles the spark of memory. This memory is of a boy and a girl. The image of the boy is blurred and out of focus, the edges not quite as sharp as they once were. He's been out of the picture for a while, and the recollection is not sure what to do with a memory the mind has tried so hard to forget. The memory would be a happy one if I didn't know of the memories to follow. The tears have eaten away at some of the joy. The memory has been stored in one of the deepest compartments of my heart and my head, behind many locked doors. Like a dusty keepsake on the shelf. Out of sight, out of mind, and in this case off limits. But for some reason the dust has been cleared off, I've been sorting through the memories. And memories, unlike keepsakes, cannot be discarded forever. No matter how far down you suppress them, or how high you've put them out of reach, at one time or another they will be revisited. They will always be there, and that's the beauty of it. Our own personal collections of pictures and home videos that capture the memorable moments in our lives. Full of secrets that no one else will ever know, and that we ourselves cannot validly express with any proof or reason. Sometimes I wonder how my memory of a moment might differ from someone else's. The girl from the memory can still remember most things clearly, can the boy remember it at all? If he dug it all up, would it look the same? And does it even matter, seeing as it's just a memory?

The Hardest of All

Can somebody explain the reason,
Why I can't feel at all?
You say to start right from the beginning,
Before you walk you've got to crawl.
Before you sing you've got to speak.
Before you fly you've got to leap.
And there are times when you will fall,
The hardest of all.

I used to know what love is.
And now i wonder why,
We all put ourselves through this,
When in the end we say goodbye.
It's only good in fairytales.
The only time when love won't fail.
And learning not to fall,
The hardest of all.

So try not to wish,
Try not to start,
A wish only leads
To a broken heart.
Don't lose who you are,
When you dream on a star.
No one can promise you,
That dreams come true.

Story of my Life

You said that if i carried you,
You wouldn't have to fall.
The weight is bearing down on me,
I can't quite stand as tall.
I said that if we asked for help
We wouldn't walk alone.
You told me just to put you down,
You'd make it on your own.

Friend

She's flipping through the pictures,
Of the years that have gone by.
She glances at his face,
Then turns the page and wonders why,
The road he had chosen
Has brought his life to this place?
And how the choices that's he's made
Could put a smile on his face.

When did our paths
Split away from each other?
Now you're a stranger
Much more than a brother.

But I remember the days
When we would sit and wish the time away.
And I will never forget
All of the hours that we laughed and played.
When we would sit and talk
Of all our childish fantasies.
Back then you knew 'we'
Was still a major part of 'me'

He could pass her on the streets
She's never know that is was him.
He doesn't look the same
Now the memory's growing dim.
I want to be the one
To help you turn your life around.
Cause it just seems that lately,
Deadends are all you've found

Torn Heart

She's sitting in math class,
Draws hearts on her paper,
And dreams of the look in his eyes.
She sighs and remembers,
Began last December.
She loves him so much,
And she cries.

He chose someone else today,
She's wishing that she were okay.

But she was naive,
And she tried to believe,
Cause she thought "He's the one",
From the start.
Well this rolls around,
And she kneels on the ground,
Prays to God to heal her torn heart.

She looks like she's got it,
She holds it together,
The real pain inside no one knew.
For months she's been quiet,
And let him walk by her,
She's told so many lies,
And she's through.

She's letting him slip away,
She's wishing that she were okay.

But she was naive,
And she tried to believe
Cause she thought, "He's the one",
From the start.
Well this rolls around,
And she kneels on the ground,
Prays to God to heal her torn heart,
Prays to God to heal her torn heart.

Just Another Dream

She watches from a distance,
Too scared to take a chance.
She waits a little longer,
Then spares another glance,
To the one she loves,
Who's never loved her back the same.
It's really no one's fault,
But she wants someone to blame.

Confessions of a Self Proclaimed Adult

The gravel shifted beneath her flipflops as she made her way down the familiar path, ducking under the low hanging branches of the northern trees. The sun was barely rising, a soft violet hue was painted on the clear sky and reflected on the lake beside her, the whitish outline of the moon still visible. It had become a tradition to make this journey once every summer, and even in the early hour, she had rarely felt more alive. She could feel her heart beating and see her breath blend together with the cool morning mist. As she came into the clearing the empty field laid before her the memories washed over her. It seemed a distant recollection, but it wasn't all that long ago that she had idled away the days here. Pushing these thoughts aside she reflected, It's so much different now. Those days seemed as if they were from a completely different lifetime.
The path sloped downhill now, and she could see the opening in the wall of trees below. She could hear the soothing sounds of the waves on the rocks. The wind whipped her loose curls around her face. She left the path and took a step out onto the wooden dock. The boards creaked beneath her feet, and she sat down at the very end of the dock, breathing deeply and looking down. Once she had cleared all other thoughts from her mind, she let her gaze lift and travel across the entire shoreline of the lake. This was easily her favourite place in the world. She felt a strange closeness to it, everything felt familiar; every path, every cottage, every person. She'd grown up here, not just physically, but emotionally and even spiritually. She'd arrived a childish naive, sheltered girl and every return brought new experiences that changed and shaped her into the person she had become. She'd learned the work hard and how to get along with those who are different. She'd learned to love and be loved, and how to deal with heartbreak. She'd learned to lead and serve and pray - earnestly. And now she was leaving it all, possibly forever. At the very least for a very long time. Who knows where life would take her by the time next summer rolled around. The last few years had past so quickly and yet so much had happened to fill them. She had changed more than she could have possibly predicted. Now her future hung before her, full of options, yet already played out in the heavens.
By now the sun was completely above the horizon, the brilliant orange and red sunrise caused light to dance across the landscape and dispersed alot of the mist. A bit of the cold was instantly lifted and the beams of light made the water look immensely inviting. She uncrossed her legs, pulled off her flipflops and dipped her toes into the refreshing lake. Her lake, as she liked to think of it, she was certainly no stranger to this water. She looked down at her reflection and realized the thought of leaving this place was enough to make her cry. It obviously couldn't have lasted forever, children grow up, and change, and move on. But for now, right now, it was all still hers, and to live in this moment was to act on one's impulses, so she stood, looked out over paradise and jumped.

This is Me...

my thoughts...
my questions...
my stories...
my prayers...
my dreams...
my wishes...
my hurts...
my flaws...
my confessions...
my reflections...
my opinions...
my interests...
my memories...
my struggles...
my life...
me