Remember surrender

It strikes me that when we take off our masks, we see ourselves as we really are, and that scares us; this is the main reason we wear the masks.

Every time I say I'll surrender I go back. This is killing me, is there a way to give it up to God and leave it with Him? Can I stop taking it back? Guys, can you pray for me? There's stuff that I have to give up and I always say I will but I don't seem to actually be doing it. I don't know if that makes any sense to anybody, but whatever. There's a song I really love by Sara Groves, it's called "Maybe there's a Loving God". And this is how it goes.

I'm trying to work things out, I'm trying to comprehend
Am I the chance result Of some great accident
I hear a rhythm call me The echo of a grand design
I spend each night in the backyard Staring up at the stars in the sky
I have another meeting today With my new counselor
My mom will cry and say I don't know what to do with her
She's so unresponsive I just cannot break through
She spends all night in the backyard Staring up at the stars and the moon
They have a chart and a graph Of my despondency
They want to chart a path For self-recovery
And want to know what I'm thinking What motivates my mood
To spend all night in the backyard Staring up at the stars and the moon
Maybe this was made for me For lying on my back in the middle of a field
Maybe that's a selfish thought Or maybe there's a loving God
Maybe I was made this way To think and to reason and to question and to pray
And I have never prayed a lot But maybe there's a loving God
Maybe this was made for me For lying on my back in the middle of a field
Maybe that's a selfish thought Or maybe there's a loving God
Maybe I was made this way To think and to reason and to question and to pray
And I have never prayed a lot But maybe there's a loving God
And that may be a foolish thought Or maybe there is a God
And I have never prayed a lot But maybe there's a loving God

A long-lost love

Building bridges through city streets
An act, almost of defiance
One of our only wondrous feats
Even as, day after day, we toil in vain
There is much we neglect to say
And soon one sees the nothing we can gain
When flowers grow black on our graves
Moonlight glistens your tears
For merciful death life is waived
When what is set is done
From smallest ant to largest whale
The prize is unable to be won
Blood drips dark, a smile sad
A haunting scream you turn your head
Don't dare look- it's what you should have had

And then we die...

I have been thinking about romance a lot lately. It is not by choice, it merely seems to crop up in my thoughts and music more often for some reason, or else I'm just noticing it more. To me, somehow, romance is a lot more than dating, or even marriage. You can have marriage and love without romance. Romance is love but love is not romance. I'm sorry if this makes no sense to anyone, but I need to organize my thoughts. For example, I was at a party on Friday night, and there was a girl there who was sick and throwing up. Apparently this is fairly usual at parties of this sort, but still disgusting, so bear with me. The thing that struck me about this scenario is that the whole time she was sick and bending over the toilet, her boyfriend was there, holding her, comforting her, and keeping her hair out of her face while she was sick. I don't care if you think that's disgusting, to me that's romantic. If someone can see you at your lowest point and still love you, then it is more real than if they just saw you when you were dressed up and on a date with them.

Romance is: Holding someone when they're sick...
Dancing under the stars...
Watching hockey and cheering for your team even when they're losing 12-1...
Laughing at yourself...
Letting go of your self-inflicted chains...
Not caring what others think...

What is it to you?

Stop saying that we're invincible

"When the dark comes rising, six shall turn it back
Three from the circle and three from the track
Wood, bronze, iron, water, fire, stone
Five shall return and one go alone.

Iron for the birthday, bronze carried long
Wood from the burning, stone out of song
Fire from the candle-ring, water from the thaw
Six signs the circle, and the grail gone before.

Fire on the mountain shall find the harp of gold
Played to wake the sleepers, oldest of the old
Power from the greenwitch, lost beneath the sea
All shall find the light at last, silver on the tree."

The want that kills

I sometimes get the feeling that all is not quite right- that more is expected of me, a more that I don't want to give. I don't always think I turned (or am turning) out like I am supposed to. I saw a family on Sunday and oh, I would give anything to have a family like that. They loved each other, and that was made perfectly clear by the way they acted towards each other. They weren't embarrassed about showing love to their siblings/parents/children in church. There were about 5 children, with the oldest being about 19 and the youngest being about 7 or 8. They really really loved each other. And I saw it, and it almost made me cry. Why aren't we like that? Have we deviated from love like that for so long that we can't go back to it? I know if we did it wouldn't be the same, it would still be awkward, whereas it wasn't here. I want that. My family love each other all right, but we could never be as amazingly open about it as the family from that place. And it kills me.

The crashing of the illusion

Sunday was... good. I think I want to go back, for several reasons. It strikes me that when we take off our masks, we see ourselves as we really are, and that scares us; this is the main reason we wear the masks. But this is what came out in the end.

You're so much more than I remember. I just want one more chance. You walked in. It's good to see you (I missed you last night). I don't know how you do what you do. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. I'm on fire when you're near me. It doesn't feel right, holding someone else's hand. You won't let me forget. Something isn't right. I took a vow to never forget you. Keep those memories in your mind. I still love you- I swear I always will. I wish I never loved you. Sometimes you've got to learn to let go. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray, you'll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away. This all seemed so easy but there's choices to make. What was normal in the evening by the morning seems insane. Stop saying that we're invincible. If you promise to stay conscious I will try and do the same, well we might die from medication but we sure killed all the pain. All this pain is justified. I'm drowning in my sleep. How long until my turn to die? Grab that last bag and turn out the lights. Picture you leaving. I'm sorry, so sorry. I saw the future once. The day when simplicity was washed away. My dreams realized in flames. She dreams she's dancing. In a coma you don't dream. In a dream I spent the day with you. The mask I polish in the evening by the morning looks like shit. And you're the only one I want to be with in the end.

Now all that's left is just to say goodnight...

It's really cold, but maybe I'm just sick. I have a vise in my head and a pit in my chest. Resulting in a headache and a nasty cough. And I'm too stubborn to take drugs.
The boys left this morning for Superhoops. I'm jealous. Besides that I like basketball, I have to work all weekend because Chad and David are gone. Boys are stupid. And on that note, I (hopefully) get my resolution on Sunday morning. If all works out. I really hope it does. So that's a good thing.
Cody and Casey left for Nicaragua this morning. So that's an exciting experience. We talked about it at youth last night and it made me really excited for Philly.
In other news, it's almost break, which is good, because I can catch up on my sleep, which is good, because then hopefully I won't be sick. We get our new basketball jerseys by divisions, if all goes well. Speaking of, divisions are February 21st and 22nd, so come cheer us on against Delisle on the 22nd.
When is the Phantom of the Op'ry cast party?
And finally, a random fact about me. I tend to narrate things in my head. It's true. It's probably why I'm such a good word weaver (even though that sounds chotchy). I narrate almost everything in my head, how people say things, what they will say next, what their actions are, etc. There you go. Now you know my secret. Except it wasn't. I'll leave now.

...but I like breathing...

Picnics to potlucks

Yesterday evening I went for a picnic in the park and it was fun. I like doing spontaneous things, such as having picnics in winter. Yesterday afternoon was hard, but the evening was good. And today we played the (insert drumroll here) Imperialism Game!!! Belgium and Germany rocked the world.
In other news, I have no other news. It is almost Valentine's Day- a pointless holiday, good only for people who are dating. I have not much use for this particular holiday, but whatever. I want to read but I have no time this week. Zilch. I like reading. I like writing. I like thinking. I'm a rebel. Ha. Not many people think any more. They're too much in a box, too much robots that follow our culture like so many sheep.

Living=rebellion.

...but I like breathing...

Dancing is good for the soul

I realized that I am a romantic. The thing I like is real romance, not false things. Perhaps I am in love with an idea instead of a real thing, but I think romance is real. Romance is not going on dates, going to the movies, etc., but it is deeper. Romance is dancing under streetlights or in fields. Romance is lying in the backyard and stargazing. Romance is going on spontaneous walks and holding hands. Romance is sitting around the fire and laughing until you cry. Romance is being able to be yourself around somebody without worrying what they think.
I want to be able to have romance, not just a boyfriend. I want to be myself and not care. I want summer and stars and sunrises and dusk. I want winter and hoarfrost and cold and fireplaces and to curl up under a blanket and watch a movie. I want fall and colored leaves and basketball and school. I want spring and mowing the lawn and waving at passing cars and saskatoonberries and rain. I don't know exactly what I want anymore. Sometimes I want the ability to forget.
I made up a quote yesterday, it's on the calendar at school. "Love is not a feeling, it's a decision you make whether you're happy or sad, guilty or innocent. You can like someone, but love is choosing to die for them." There's a sparkle in your eyes that's not usually there. And I wish I was the cause.

Make your choice, adventurous stranger, Strike the bell and bide the danger, Or wonder, 'til it drives you mad, What would have followed if you had.

...but I like breathing...