Far far, there's this little girl
She was praying for something to happen to her
Everyday she writes words and more words
Just to speak out the thoughts that keep floating inside
And she's strong when the dreams come cos' they
Take her, cover her, they are all over
The reality looks far now, but don't go
How can you stay outside?
There's a beautiful mess inside
How can you stay outside?
There's a beautiful mess inside
Oh oh oh oh
Far far, there's this little girl
She was praying for something good to happen to her
From time to time there're colors and shapes
Dazzling her eyes, tickling her hands
They invent her a new world with
Oil skies and aquarel rivers
But don't you run away already
Please don't go oh oh
How can you stay outside?
There's a beautiful mess inside
How an you stay outside?
There's a beautiful mess inside
Take a deep breath and dive
There's a beautiful mess inside
How can you stay outside?
There's a beautiful mess
Beautiful mess inside
Oh beautiful, beautiful
Far far there's this little girl
She was praying for something big to happen to her
Every night she ears beautiful strange music
It's everywhere there's nowhere to hide
But if it fades she begs
"Oh lord don't take it from me, don't take it yourselves"
I guess I'll have to give it birth
To give it birth
I guess, i guess, i guess i have to give it birth
I guess i have to, have to give it birth
There's a beautiful mess inside and it's everywhere
So shake it yourself now deep inside
Deeper than you ever dared
Deeper than you ever dared
There's a beautiful mess inside
Beautiful mess inside
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Just another night out on the town
Hey.
So I was watching OWN -(which is Oprah's new network for those of you living under or in large rocks or trees) I kid I kid- and there was this documentary style show on called Lisa Ling's Our America or something of that nature. It was really amazing. She has a very open and generous heart that is apparent in her work, especially with people who go against the "norm" or are generally despised in some way. Anywho, every episode explores some facet of Our America- whatever that means. This one was about faith healers. I highly recommend that you watch it. There's a lot I could talk about after seeing that show, but it was one of her last comments in her narration that made my tummy feel funny so let's talk about that. She said that there is no real false hope. That's like an onomatopoeia of an oxymoron. But really, what if that's true? All hope is valid because hope is hope. False hope doesn't exist because it still has the same effects of real hope. So what's real and what's false? Maybe in trying to deny certain kinds of hope you're just putting your hope into a smaller and smaller box. Don't limit hope. Maybe don't define false and real? Maybe define it.
It just kind of made me feel strange thinking that there is no placebo effect for hope (or it's all a placebo effect for you glorious cynics out there). It's so black and white, you know? If you believe it, it's there. If you don't, it's not. I can't think of anything more black and whiter. Besides faith (hope and charity- not charity but it's too hard to refrain from saying when you throw the other two out there). That was a really great to, too, two example sentence.
I'm really tired.
Oh also, I feel really cool when my Pandora stations give me music by artists whose lyrics aren't even online. I am SO indie.
So I was watching OWN -(which is Oprah's new network for those of you living under or in large rocks or trees) I kid I kid- and there was this documentary style show on called Lisa Ling's Our America or something of that nature. It was really amazing. She has a very open and generous heart that is apparent in her work, especially with people who go against the "norm" or are generally despised in some way. Anywho, every episode explores some facet of Our America- whatever that means. This one was about faith healers. I highly recommend that you watch it. There's a lot I could talk about after seeing that show, but it was one of her last comments in her narration that made my tummy feel funny so let's talk about that. She said that there is no real false hope. That's like an onomatopoeia of an oxymoron. But really, what if that's true? All hope is valid because hope is hope. False hope doesn't exist because it still has the same effects of real hope. So what's real and what's false? Maybe in trying to deny certain kinds of hope you're just putting your hope into a smaller and smaller box. Don't limit hope. Maybe don't define false and real? Maybe define it.
It just kind of made me feel strange thinking that there is no placebo effect for hope (or it's all a placebo effect for you glorious cynics out there). It's so black and white, you know? If you believe it, it's there. If you don't, it's not. I can't think of anything more black and whiter. Besides faith (hope and charity- not charity but it's too hard to refrain from saying when you throw the other two out there). That was a really great to, too, two example sentence.
I'm really tired.
Oh also, I feel really cool when my Pandora stations give me music by artists whose lyrics aren't even online. I am SO indie.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
And closely related...
"And that's the day I realized there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever."
Sparknote version of the previous post.
Sparknote version of the previous post.
Dis come bob you late.
I’d really like a big dose of clarity. Life clouds instincts and instincts are denied. There is peace is letting go- even though I can’t seem to get there. I am disappointed in my never being strong enough to change/help/or fully encourage another human being, but I realize now that no one has that power over anyone else. So I guess I'm not disappointed. Tis' life.
There is value in this. This is not quitting. This is acknowledging my limits. My inability to help you change and a not wanting to ruin something so beautiful in the process. Sometimes patience is a big bitch to have and to hold. There is no denial of the passionate bits, the connectedness beyond the daily grind, and the spiritual boundaries that blend at the seam which we very carefully crafted between our souls. It’s all very beautiful at its core. Too beautiful. We weren’t ready for it. We aren’t now. Trust it, don’t move it yourself.
If we are eternal beings, if these are eternal ties, why worry about timing now? We need to get back to our truths, our cores, and our instincts. I don’t really know what’s real anymore. That’s kind of sad. So I’m going to fix it. You can too. I’m going to stop denying every instinct that I don’t want to face, act on, or deal with. I don’t what that looks like, but I’ll try it.
The scary factor increases exponentially when you realize the grand magic between two people. The significant figures increase when you have to make a choice between holding on to moments that have passed for encouragement or trust that distance and learning and a knowing that we are OK as individuals will revive a lost romance in the future.
See, it’s still really beautiful.
Our faith in God rested solely in each other so of course we failed each other constantly. We need to adjust, realign, learn the next steps, and trust. Trust that this is God’s way of waking us up and making us count of Him, not each other anymore. We can’t worship a relationship because the core of it is essentially perfect. We have to look up sometimes. Trust that God won’t leave us hanging. If we truly work hard at living lovingly and honestly, we won’t be left to find a lesser version of this connectedness- whether in a muted version of what we should have been (like it was) or in other people. Does that make sense? We will always have this passionate connectedness (with or without each other) if we do our homework. If we really try hard.
There is value in this. This is not quitting. This is acknowledging my limits. My inability to help you change and a not wanting to ruin something so beautiful in the process. Sometimes patience is a big bitch to have and to hold. There is no denial of the passionate bits, the connectedness beyond the daily grind, and the spiritual boundaries that blend at the seam which we very carefully crafted between our souls. It’s all very beautiful at its core. Too beautiful. We weren’t ready for it. We aren’t now. Trust it, don’t move it yourself.
If we are eternal beings, if these are eternal ties, why worry about timing now? We need to get back to our truths, our cores, and our instincts. I don’t really know what’s real anymore. That’s kind of sad. So I’m going to fix it. You can too. I’m going to stop denying every instinct that I don’t want to face, act on, or deal with. I don’t what that looks like, but I’ll try it.
The scary factor increases exponentially when you realize the grand magic between two people. The significant figures increase when you have to make a choice between holding on to moments that have passed for encouragement or trust that distance and learning and a knowing that we are OK as individuals will revive a lost romance in the future.
See, it’s still really beautiful.
Our faith in God rested solely in each other so of course we failed each other constantly. We need to adjust, realign, learn the next steps, and trust. Trust that this is God’s way of waking us up and making us count of Him, not each other anymore. We can’t worship a relationship because the core of it is essentially perfect. We have to look up sometimes. Trust that God won’t leave us hanging. If we truly work hard at living lovingly and honestly, we won’t be left to find a lesser version of this connectedness- whether in a muted version of what we should have been (like it was) or in other people. Does that make sense? We will always have this passionate connectedness (with or without each other) if we do our homework. If we really try hard.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Space Jams
"...like a shooting star, he shines" is a line from Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton. That lady is of magic. I feel as lame for listening to the occasional Vanessa Carlton jam as I do for the occasional rocking out to the Wicked soundtrack. Then again, I feel lame for neither. Sometimes you have to belt popular with full Toddlers in Tiaras facial expression in order to start the day out on the right foot.
When I said that I suck at a lot of things in the last post, I simply meant that I realize I have much to learn in this little game called life. I don't actually think I suck at a lot of things. That was a generalization. So you agree... You think you're really pretty? That was a quote from Mean Girls.
Anyway, I have to get up pretty early but I just wanted to say hi. Sometimes I get really excited before I go to bed because Jenn Bunny is coming up to visit tomorrow and I can't wait to see her, and I get to have such precious times with the buddies, and life is really grand even when it's tumultuous. There's just a lot of hope in new beginnings and refreshed middles and happy endings. That sounds like the massage menu at a Vietnamese "Truckers welcome" spa. Cutesies!
When I said that I suck at a lot of things in the last post, I simply meant that I realize I have much to learn in this little game called life. I don't actually think I suck at a lot of things. That was a generalization. So you agree... You think you're really pretty? That was a quote from Mean Girls.
Anyway, I have to get up pretty early but I just wanted to say hi. Sometimes I get really excited before I go to bed because Jenn Bunny is coming up to visit tomorrow and I can't wait to see her, and I get to have such precious times with the buddies, and life is really grand even when it's tumultuous. There's just a lot of hope in new beginnings and refreshed middles and happy endings. That sounds like the massage menu at a Vietnamese "Truckers welcome" spa. Cutesies!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Speaking Only Consonants
I suck at a lot of things. Being human is beautiful and awful and clunky and I hate it and I love it. I suck at returning calls or texts in a timely matter unless you tell me that it bugs you a lot. Then I get really good at it. I suck at crawling out of my own little bubble when I'm sad. It happens and I detach and hide. I don't like it so I'm changing it but when I disappear just know I'm sitting in my room stuck in my own head. It's not sad. It's just life. When I get nervous I can only think about what is making me nervous. I temporarily paralyze myself in that way.
There is a sense of wholeness and well-being in feeling. I hated being numb but I think that numb comes from a natural buildup of residual damage from life events. It sucks not having anesthesia in life. It's like constantly getting your wisdom teeth out without the laughing gas and Novocaine but it's a different kind of high- like a true high. I feel things. I get the opportunity to connect with people that I may have avoided in the past and whether or not I take the chance to connect is my choice but I see the value in it now. The beauty in others is astounding. So what? You think this is sappy? Get over it. Just kidding. I'm really grateful. My head wants to explode with gratitude, sparkles, and crazy. It's all going to be okay.
Oh, and I think this is important too. It's from American Beauty. I fell in love with that movie when I saw it as a kid, even though I had no idea how to relate to it (in terms of the conventional definition of relate). I've always been drawn toward things that make my tummy feel funny and this movie does just that- as did my mom's going fast over the big hilly roads up north until she got a speeding ticket because I kept asking her to go faster.
"I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time... For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars... And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined our street... Or my grandmother's hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper... And the first time I saw my cousin Tony's brand new Firebird... And Janie... And Janie... And... Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday."
In totally unrelated news: It's a blip, not even a bump, and certainly not a roadblock.
There is a sense of wholeness and well-being in feeling. I hated being numb but I think that numb comes from a natural buildup of residual damage from life events. It sucks not having anesthesia in life. It's like constantly getting your wisdom teeth out without the laughing gas and Novocaine but it's a different kind of high- like a true high. I feel things. I get the opportunity to connect with people that I may have avoided in the past and whether or not I take the chance to connect is my choice but I see the value in it now. The beauty in others is astounding. So what? You think this is sappy? Get over it. Just kidding. I'm really grateful. My head wants to explode with gratitude, sparkles, and crazy. It's all going to be okay.
Oh, and I think this is important too. It's from American Beauty. I fell in love with that movie when I saw it as a kid, even though I had no idea how to relate to it (in terms of the conventional definition of relate). I've always been drawn toward things that make my tummy feel funny and this movie does just that- as did my mom's going fast over the big hilly roads up north until she got a speeding ticket because I kept asking her to go faster.
"I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time... For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars... And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined our street... Or my grandmother's hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper... And the first time I saw my cousin Tony's brand new Firebird... And Janie... And Janie... And... Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday."
In totally unrelated news: It's a blip, not even a bump, and certainly not a roadblock.
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