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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...
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my memories...
my struggles...
my life...
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