Exegesis

I am very frustrated with my mind. It is driving me insane. Why do I think things that I do not want to think, why must these things keep on coming back? I have tried and tried to get this out of my head. Yet I surrender to it time and again. What is with this? Why must I always be going slightly mad?
By the bye, I am likely not working at camp this summer, which is exceedingly disappointing. I applied at the flour mill where my dad works, which would be a good job that pays well. However, it would require all 4 months of summer, and therefore I could not work at camp. If I do not get the job I will hopefully spend my summer making very little money, instead of lots.
Less than a month of school left. Then home. Home is good. Where is home?
I'm going insane.

Purple flowers don't last

Exhaustion. It rattles my brain and pokes holes in my thoughts. My body is a little sore but not too bad. There's this kid from town I keep running into at the most random times. I like him, he's cute. We have the occasional conversation. He's interesting. On a different note, when the Nicaragua team came home a couple weeks ago, I realized something that I have since been half-heartedly trying to suppress. I'm scared of it. But there's nothing I can do about it so I'll leave it be and see what happens, if anything. Now THAT would be interesting.

They're smiling with you in their targets

I have discovered that I am where I am supposed to be but I do not belong anywhere. I am a "floater" here just as I was in high school. How foolish of me to think that it would be any different. Not that I mind, usually. For the most part I like it, it's just that there are times when I wish it were different. But, you know, things happen. We'll see what it's like next year and even for the rest of this one. We'll see what summer holds. There is the possibility of moving to Calgary for the summer. Although my first love is to work at camp. If God sends me to Calgary I shall rant and scream and cry and go. And probably enjoy it there. So I'm torn right now as to what's happening with summer. Where am I going? Why?

They say things happen in threes

I dream a lot
Of death and fire
Though I do not fear either
I think a lot
About you, though I try to fight it
And fire burns
On and on, flickering hotter in the red-gold swirls
My soul burns
Crying for life and love and flame
And I try not to fight it
But embrace it
And blood flows
On and on, running warm through my hands
Rich and thick and alive in death
Red
Beautiful are both blood and flame
You know it
Don't try to fight it

Remembering is harder than forgetting you
Following is so much harder than running away
Dying is easier than living this life
It is easier to be dead and hard and asleep
But where do you live, and how?
The cold is what makes you feel alive
Seeing color, breathing deep, crying
Freeing the blood to run through your veins
Is this what makes you live your life?
It's just a memory you can't forget
Always looking for a home you can't find
Feeling good to feel worse
Remembering is harder than forgetting you
Chasing is more work than letting you go
Living is what we are called to
The pain is what makes you feel alive

My mind unwinds it intertwines
My heart embarks it wanders off
You never really did choose
I'm slightly irked that you're a jerk
My dearest friend
The air is hot in here
You're making me unstable as well as you are able
Picking and choosing your sides
Lies
I can see it in your eyes
Let me in know where to begin
But somehow we can't end
My skin is thin it lets you in
Bleeding red until I'm dead
Open your eyes it's all a disguise

Too soon to tell

"We're not going to live forever
Can you tell me is it now or never
I'm not going to make up your mind
I don't want to live without you
And I don't want to live a lie
We'll never know until we try"
-Lifehouse

"I'm sorry for the phone call and needing you
Some decisions you don't make
I guess it's just like breathing and not wanting to
There are some things you can't fake
I'm sorry for the phone call and waking you
I know that it is late
But thank you for talking, because I needed to
Some things just can't wait"
-Bright Eyes

There are people that I want to talk to a lot, a whole lot, and I cannot because I do not have a calling card, and I do not want to call them collect. I should get a calling card. But for now, I am slightly frustrated. Other than that, life here is generally mostly good.

Here, perhaps

I found a door to Nowhere
It really was absurd
And I looked back at Somewhere
Feeling free as a bird
I walked through that door to Nowhere
And found myself in love
Perhaps that land of Nowhere
Was my calling from above
And now I live in Nowhere
But they all know my name
Since I found that door to Nowhere
Nothing was ever the same

Short but all my life

I slept through church this morning. It was kind of weird, but I suppose that's alright. Classes officially start tomorrow, which I am both looking forward to and dreading. We came home from Calgary on Friday. Calgary was AMAZING. There are so many stories I cannot even begin to tell them all. God worked in so many awesome ways. I can't fathom God. It's impossible. I want to go back to Calgary, and work in the inner city. I want to hear those people's stories. That would be really sweet. We met so many people, prostitutes, ex-prostitutes, drug addicts, working poor, street people, etc. People from every walk of life somehow end up on the Calgary streets and I want to hear their stories. But we have to see what God says now. And at this moment I am supposed to be here where I am.

Watch me

Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace
Wednesday's child is full of woe
Thursday's child has far to go
Friday's child is loving and giving
Saturday's child works hard for a living
But the child that is born on the Sabbath Day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

My mom says the best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't. My life's greatest joy is doing what other people tell me I can't. And I have a tattoo, like I said I would and they said I couldn't. I was born on a Thursday.

Addict

"The winds of change forever blow, some things stay and some things go..."
I guess you were one of those things that go. One of the things I thought I was okay with but now apparently I'm not. I wish you were one of the things that stay. But maybe only for now, because I won't next week. I hope. For some reason I always give in. ALWAYS. As much as I hate myself for it it happens. Because I keep thinking maybe next time it'll be different.
Knowing what your addictions are and hating them does not stop you from giving in to them time and again. Although one is worse here and the other is worse there, they are still addictions and I still know I am addicted. And though I want help I don't.
"You will not be forgotten, but now that you're gone, the heartache lives on."

Too young to die, to old to live

I'm in a weird mood. There're things I want that I haven't wanted in a long time and I don't actually want them but I seem to think I do. Perhaps it's the music I've been listening to of late. It reminds me of a time in my life that I would like to go back to. But you can't go back. I don't know if I really want to or if I'm just being nostalgic. It was a good time. I don't like growing up anymore.
I have found a place that I think I belong. It feels more like belonging than home ever did. Then the question arises, "Where is home?" This place, or rather, these two places, are far more comfortable and far more accepting of me than Dalmeny ever was. It was strange being in church today. I haven't been in that church in two and a half months. It felt wrong, I couldn't focus myself. That was mostly my fault, but I feel almost suffocated here. Like, there are a lot of people who seem to care but don't actually. There are a bunch that do but there are lots that I don't want to talk to as well. They're just asking surface questions, that or I'm not comfortable enough to go deeper with them. I'm ready to go back to Bethany now.
The other thing I've become painfully aware of is my own mortality. I could die at any time and it's surprising how easy it would be. I'm starting to see pain and see problems I've never recognized before. And it's painful. Life is painful. Growing up is painful. Loss is painful. And somehow we grow and live and love and survive, and I don't think we could ask for more because this is beauty and this is life. It's like blood... beautiful and painful and significant and symbolic. Red.