Wait, huh?

Have you ever been a part of something so blessed that when you took a few cold-dark-hallway steps away from it so that you could look back at it- that you were forthwith ill from an impending notion of your own foolishness for having been a part of it at all? I do not mean regret. This feeling is not rising up because you partook in anything particularly naive at all, but because you invested so much of yourself into something with an impossibly short shelf-life. For all that you know, it could have been one of those cans tucked in the back of the pantry waiting to carry you through an earthquake... presumably indestructible.

Fortunately, I have found, that those who gaze back at memories and ponder their own foolishness are rarely the ignoramus they suspect themselves to be. Rather, it is the one who does not detect the irony of lost love who fails to walk down the hallway at all. But alas, fools or not, both are left victim to such contradicting impulses and sensitivities. Gratefully, I presume that there are plenty other self-supposed fools walking halls... maybe even one who understands any of this at all... I'll keep my eyes open.

The Plunge.

Tempests move.
Like burning torches
they plunge further
and puncture the skin
of darkness.
We breathe on
improvisation.
The lengths
the place
we were traveling
now time diminishes
just as we once thought
it had
it had not
it had
it had not
it is now the unknown.
The air is murky with deceit
like we thought
it could not be
we continue on
with our torches
yours is promiscuity
mine creed.
Superfluous whispers
break our own silence
we wave it from our ears
and it breaks

our heart.
Don’t laugh at me
I say
it hurts
it does
it does not
it does.
One cannot fathom
we continue on
but when?
when
when will I see
your torch?
again.

In a Word... Quixotic.

I am the type of girl who has rapid cycles of vocational interests. I recently made a list of about 15 of the things i go back and forth between wanting to do with this possible future. Most of them are things i have absolutely no experience in. Most recently, I cannot stop picturing myself acting. I have been researching monologues online pointlessly because college soccer doesn't even bid me have a job, let alone audition for a play. I am not positive as to why I have been craving such theatrics, but i can almost guarantee you that next week i will be set on defeating deforestation in Haiti, or pursuing photography, or teaching english etc... How inexorably beautiful are the possibilities of this life that even the indecisive and impossibly quixotic like me can appreciate them?

Today i watched a movie that is actually a compilation of shorts about love and Paris that is fittingly titled Paris, Je T'aime. For me, it inspired healing in belief in a full-bodied and deep kind of love, but it mostly made me want to visit Paris sometime in the near future.

Tomorrow classes begin. Three more semesters to go at Biola for me and I am torn between thinking of this as a surprise that should be accompanied by a wistful sigh... or considering it a blessing that allows me to simply move forward and finally pursue the trail that The Truth will pull me down (maybe as an actress?). I am not the picky type of girl in any respect. I simply hope the trail has redwood trees all along it... and possibly someone to soak it in with me.

Nightnight, my 7:00am alarm is set for the first morning practice of the semester...

"Come and See"

We had our heritage slaughte
red
So that we might reci
eve
our inheritance.
They took us from the land
to let us d
own.
I will walk with bles
sing and sing.
I will walk with e
yes like pup
pets
that remain pul
led
up to the heavens.
Such meek clay w
ill
hold me d
own
and take my brea
the.
How can one sp
ring
towards a b
ride
so so pervasive.
Sift sift through
a man
a bride
a li
on.
a com
pass.
a rea
Son.
Walk a
way
now and h
old
to a plume.
A feat
her
of hope that b
rang a twig
that might ring
like a bell
if only e
yes
come out from
darkness.
im
merge
and de
feat
sepa
rating
walls that hang.
They have hung
like death be
fore.
Before we knew
breathe.
before he knew brea
the.
feet s
wing
that we might h
old
on to one a
lone.
No need
to debate rea
son.
Have reason and
take organ…
know th
at
we are fools.
Fools we w
ill
be and fools
we will break.
irrevocable
and un
sharing
will bring no
thing.
every
thing.
the people turned
to us?
fools.
all fools.
Share in the vessel m
embers.
a situati
on
fixed tight
to copse.
Hallelu
jah…
A
men.

This is a Sunday.

Today was great. It was not great in the way that leaves you jumping into your "Captains height" bed with a contented sigh ready for some supplication and gratitude (Though i do love those days). But today left me sitting in that bed unable to sleep, hankering for something to outlet my pent up (and newly inspired) creativity on. Luckily, part of the joy of the day was that my darling friend Beans bought me a new journal because my latest one is getting heavier by the day with what i have been attempting to squeeze in. So i wrote a poem. It had been sitting in my head for a number of days so it was down in about five minutes and its on the short side of things.

Now, I am not one to share my poems right away and most definitely with just anyone, but as soon as i closed my journal, my old blog came to mind. I went to check it out because it had been too long since i had posted a thing and since it was had collected so much dust i deleted it and started this shiny one. I would like to write more and hey, i am on my second paragraph even now. fancy that.

So here is my small, currently sparkling little space for writing and sharing in other spicy mediums. I'll do my best. I hope you have great days that are full of soccer in the mud with friends, and organizing your apartment, and crosstown-and-back-again scavenger hunts for things like sheets and the new Andrew Bird Album (Beautiful). I would suggest the movie Sunshine to anyone looking for and epic space film (Thanks C Snow). For now, goodnight. Or morning, whichever you prefer.

P.s. Since it is new, and i am way too excited, I think I will post an barely older poem right after this post.