When do we go?We go when we want to go.
tothe_unknown_love
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Birthday: 10/26/1986
Gender: Female


Interests: creating odd things, pretending, playing guitar???,going to school, working(although tres yucky)....
Expertise: nothin but myself... i am only truly knowledgeable about myself, and even then i am not the expert; yes it's true, somebody does know me better than me...
Occupation: Student
Industry: Education/Research


Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM: revoltdefille


Member Since: 11/7/2003

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Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Oh You-- You who search me and know me-- you who see this cloud which covers even my brightest joy. You know tihs anxiety and you are greater than it. You know this desire-- you know it's legitimacy, it's selfishness, and you know what is best. I hae watched you fulfill these aching longings with a plan greater than my own. You do not fulfill a promise and leave me hanging with no way to sustain it-- oh God you take them all the way.

 

All I can see is the numbers. All I can feel is the work over flowing. Those little fingers and toes-- the first words and first steps with someone else? Oh how could I  manage? God what can I do? I can do nothing. This wonderful life has expectations. and I am so comfortable to be happy and healthy-- to have money each month to pay the bills, but oh how I would love to  be there every moment and see everything.

 

Help me-- give me peace, and make this fear go away. I chose to trust you, with mustard seed faith.


Tuesday, September 13, 2011

The Vent 2

But you, you are steadfast, and in this hour of darkness there is a light (though I can't see it).

 

it is becoming clearer-- the knowledge of man is flawed and helpless So I will cling to you.

 

So I will cling.

 

Oh why is hope so often dangled before me, just beyond my grasp? Oh why do answers come and then run away ?

 

When feelings fail me, when I can't see clearly, when I so do not understand, I will chose to leave it to you. I chose to give it to you. First, because you are unchanging and do not fail. And Second because clearly I have no other option. And how i wish it were more the former than the latter.


Saturday, August 20, 2011

Dear Friend,

 

I know somewhere you're out there, and in my mind you still listen to me and offer advice. Friend, what was I thinking? And am I in the wrong?

 

No options, no choices. Follow suit (foot the bill). Uninvited. Uninvolved. Unfair. (who ever said life was fair?) But why does it feel so wrong when weeks ago it felt so right?

 

This isn't what I signed up for and it isn't what I wanted.

 

Your beloved best friend (at least, that's what I was the last time you loved me).


Sunday, August 14, 2011

The Vent

To the one who deciphers---

 

Eight months ago I sat in a pew and vented my frustration to you in silence. I stared at those little hands and smiled at that little smile and wondered, hopelessly if I could ever carry such a burden. I rolled my eyes at the bottom dweller then as I do now, picked up the leather bound letter and found you there.

We were the only ones in the room. Like a dream. Everyone else faded, the carols in the background were muted, and light shone from somewhere, nowhere, and suddenly all around. You leaned over my shoulder, poked your gentle, untamed finger into the letter, and whispered a promise in my ear:

"They shall spring up among the grass, like willows by flowing springs. This one shall say 'I am the Lord's,' another wll call upon the name of Jacob, and another will write upon his hand, 'The Lord's'."

Oh how do you know me?  How do you love me? How do you speak to the depths of my soul? Best friend. Forever friend. Like tender flowing stream, like hard, pounding hurricane.

And again I sought you.

A complaint really; in my wining, unhappy ramble. You hear my cries. Of that I am sure. I left it with you. What choice did I have? No strong will of mine can change markets, economy, the will of man. And you said with a loud roaring yell what I was longing to hear-- not a temporary fix, not a compromise-- you spoke like the roaring of the waves in a great storm, like the flame of an untamed fire, like the blaze of an unshadowed sun:

BEHOLD I AM DOING A NEW THING. NOW IT SPRINGS FORTH, DO YOU NOT SEE IT?

FEAR NOT FOR I AM WITH YOU; BE NOT DISMAYED FOR I AM GOD; I WILL STRENGTHEN YOU. I WILL HELP YOU I WILL UPHOLD YOU WITH MY RIGHTEOUS RIGHT HAND.

I WILL MAKE A WAY IN THE WILDERNESS AND RIVERS IN THE DESSERT.

AS i HAVE PLANNED SO IT SHALL BE. AS I HAVE PURPOSED SO IT SHALL STAND.

MY PEOPLE WILL LIVE IN A PEACEFUL HOUSE, IN SECURE DWELLINGS AND IN QUIET RESTING PLACES.

BECAUSE YOU ARE PRECIOUS IN MY EYES AND HONORED AND I LOVE YOU.

 

Oh to hear your voice. To be in that perfect peace, to know, to be without fear, that this, this crazy thing was purposed. The soul speaks words we do not understand and she burst forth, that ever growing child, that strong armed warrior and responded so fiercely that her body in this realm could not hold her:

PRAISE BE TO GOD, HOW WHO FORMED ME AND THINKS ME BEYOND VALUE. OH GREAT ONE:

YOU KEEP HIM IN PERFECT PEACE WHOSE MIND IT STAYED ON YOU, BECAUSE HE TRUSTS IN YOU.

YOU MAKE LEVEL THE WAY OF THE RIGHTEOUS!

BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO WAIT FOR HIM!

LET THE FAVOR OF THE LORD OUR GOD BE UPON US AND ESTABLISH THE WORK OF OUR HANDS!

 

And so, we speak only good toward our great endeavor. We speak only blessing on this house and on all its comings and goings. The drip of uncertainty having been snuffed out by the flame of an all consuming fire. He is mine and I will follow him until the ends of the earth (Lo-- even to the ends of the earth i am with you).

 

Praise be to God, Jehovah Ezer: My lord, the God who helps me.


Saturday, March 05, 2011

The in between

We are here again in that place which never gives or goes fully away.  Does it ever go fully away?

(Am I 17 again?)

 

In what world do we ever fully belong. Not in this. No. Ah, to be married. Ah to graduate. To have a job.

 

They do not see us. We do not cry for attention. It is the old cry I made as a child, the cry I made as a teen. And now I cry it.

 

They are not here. They were never here. Always I was included, but never fully assimilated to them.

 

Oh to see that white stone... the hear that name.



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