Roundabout

caught between middle ground
unexpected, unprepared

captured and spellbound
taunted and scared

by subjects and object I cannot unveil
I am not ready to explain my tale

yet here I am, ranting away
hoping somehow I'm making headway

Eauty.

Radiohead's song, Creep contains the lines "your skin makes me cry." I always feel weak when I hear those words.

I love taking in beauty. I love being able to capture it and holding it captive. Whether that be in the form of words, of song or feelings, it matters not. I love being able to hold it, suspended in the air and observe the tenacious strenth glowing from within it. The curious rich culture behind every note and word is delicious. To breath in the rhythm of triumph as it breaks the fragile silence and emptiness. To feel, to experience an emotion conquer void apathy is an ever constant encouragement to my spirit. To feel passion, is like a surging inverted waterfall, a waterfall of fervor, fervor of ferocious satisfaction. The satisfaction of finally taking sight of your desire. The releasing of beauty has an effect on everything around it. Real beauty, when released, is like throwing sunflower seed into a world composed entirely of newspapers folded into origami shapes. If its a true sunflower seed, it will burn down everything around it, and then grow. Grow into beauty, brightening everything. Enlightening and glowing.

First day of being an adult. Took long enough.

Let me take a whack at it.
You ever have a feeling? and it touches something in you and you are suddenly.. like struck by lightening (so to speak) and you wish so badly to capture that feeling, put it in a cage, to look at it later? Or maybe you want to conjure up a feeling, you are successful and you suddenly feel the need to say something to somebody about how you feel and about that certain thing.

I feel a bit of both.

I'm eighteen. Yeesh, sounds unreal. I suppose I could feel glad? or something.
actually. screw it. I'm going to write to myself now. tread softly with your comments, excuse my words for they do not care about you.

I was just going over this blog and I wrote some pretty darn good posts when I was in physical pain/emotional struggle/loneliness. I tried to write my heart out, in a lot of places. I was not in good shape was I? I was probably depressed, clinically, I'm not sure, I don't want to find out. But then again, I might have not been.

Ok. So my writings were born out of struggle with God over pain and His connection to it all. Now, I don't have the pain, and therefore should keep my little trap shut. Complaining outright sounds lame, but if you make a plea, if its polite and if the peanut gallery can relate to it, then its applauded and is upheld as pure gold. Cloth your hate with empathy and crafty accusations.

Right now I wish, I wish, I wish. That's about all I do. I wish and pray about my wishes.
and I wait.
I'm going to a community college next year. I didn't know I was going to it untill ..december. Normaly people start planning their college two years in advance. That is what I hate. I like planning my life, I like knowing which direction will lead this to that to this to that. Everybody likes that. To have security?
Right now, I feel a great absence of security. Of selfish security that is. Security that I can plan my own plans and they'll take me somwhere, instead (and I can say this with confidence) I have security that God's going to take me where He wants me to go. He's got some great plan for my life yes yes yes..
It involves the occasional move here, move there, cancer, oops surgery mistake, oops 4 months of something hell for you, oh look! american school, culture shock and this that and the other thing.
I lived it. It's done. It's not the end of it..haha no..bloody hell no. That what scares me, thats what forces me into the wings of God. I feel trapped, fooled almost into putting my trust in God. If I don't I know its going to be worse, and if I do, well it still will be bad, but I'll have some extra emotional support. Why do I hate this? Because I can't change these things or control the bad things that happen to me, I'm forced to deal with them strongly because I know thats the best hope for me to face..another struggle. I'm not responsible for the crap that happens to me, or I feel like I'm being punished because I live in a sinful world, but then, hey, wait, everyone around me isn't being punished like this, or if they are, their doing worse than me...what the fuck?

Before the osteo happened to me. I could look at people breakdance and think its cool. Now the main thought that goes through my mind, even if its slowly dulling away, is..."I will never be able to do that." I might have never tried to breakdance before I had osteo, but the thought and confidence that I would be able to breakdance a little if I just learned, was there. Now, I cannot even think it, it is impossible for me to attempt the windmill. Someone might say, well, so what, it's just breakdancing. Yeah, it is just breakdancing, and its about all the things which force me to look even more physically different. The general underlying myth in everyones mind is, "the more different you are from someone, the less desirable you are". At the least, at first sight. This makes meeting new people pretty hard, since the first thing they see is the person, theyve got yet to know you you.
I'm not looking for pity in the shape of "aw" , I'm looking for it in the shape of "ah".

Before I started school in october.. Number two and three inflicted me ever since chemo started in december 2003. The whole time, untill march 2006 ive been feeling number 1
1)Stupid God, why pick on me? Again? Ok, sorry, but I'm just.. lost.

2)I can get through this. Actually, I don't really care if I get through this. I think I'll just concentrate on watching the next simpsons episode.
to..
3)I feel good. Its all good. It's ok if things are bad, it definitely could be worse. hm..that just happened. well, I know for a fact, that this pain will eventually stop. That I will be able to sleep. With sleep comes relief.

Now, I'm just.. living..trying not to think..too much. Except now You know what God? I'm going to try and control a lot of things in my life. I want you to intervene as much as possible. But pleeaasse.. keep crap from hitting me. Some rest please? Can this be my "sleep and relief period"?
I'm not totally reeling from shock from hitting that life changing glacier..but the effects are still huge, visible, and bleeding.

I'm returning to a semi-normal state. As much as is possible for a person like me. In a lot of ways I have...and I actually don't need comfort.
I'm trying to document what I'm going through, subconsiously a lot.

From another viewpoint, I've found my journey so far.. fascinating. I have a total unique fucked up life that not many people can claim to have led. In a lot of ways it actually wasn't that fucked up, in some ways.. its dead on. I am using that word just to drive home the fact that there was enough shit to deserve the title. But, I also led a life. I'm comfortable and proud of that. I've led a life that deserves the title "Life". It's got all the elements to make a great story because its unbelievable in so many ways.
So.. I like my unique and screwed up life. I like being me. I've learned a lot.. and I'm not dead so I have more things to accomplish and see and influence..hopefully my purpose.
and sometimes, I honestly like being in the shade of the tree. Under the protection of the master of the universe. My purpose..to praise Him in everything I do..to be glad and satisfied.

On that note. Congratulations. You've withstood a personal therapy session.

hava nagila hava...venis mecha
hava neranena..

Teen and Eight

The mingling of sounds or words in any form or contortion can not express this spirit in full.
Upon this birthday morn, I do know that I have come pretty far and I hope I will go farther.
I recognize a part of myself, I can recognize sources of ideas and feelings from within myself.
I am still afraid of pain and its effects.
I am not afraid of death.
I know my limitations and capabilities but I do not know how far I should push them.

I go over certain events which have wrecked hell on me and my being and I will say "If that hadn't happened, I could have taken over the world by now" ..but then I will second guess myself and pose my stronger feeling "If that handn't happened I would have been pretty pathetic compared to now"

Now, how far do I push? how much do I wish?

Do I push for God, do I wish for heaven? Lasting wisdom, guidance and fellowship?
Do I push for riches? No, a convenience for sure, I've been pampered most of my life. If I could only get rid of those shackles, I would feel so much more free'er.
Do I wish for fame? pffff
Friendships? For sure, this is a bonus that I believe will come with guidance from the Father.
Power? Yes. I do wish for power. Spiritual power. Power of self-control and alertness.
Love? I cannot live without it. I yearn for it, as it says in psalms: As the deer pants for water. (even if its an analogy for yearning for God)

I'm begining to like this damned journey of purpose, it can be very refreshing and, sometimes, suprising.

The Ever Superior Beatles

Here is one example:

Californian Girls by The Beach Boys
(the first two verses)

Well East coast girls are hip
I really dig those styles they wear
And the Southern girls with the way they talk
They knock me out when I'm down there

The Mid-West farmer's daughters really make you feel alright
And the Northern girls with the way they kiss
They keep their boyfriends warm at night

Back in the USA by Chuck Berry

Oh well, oh well, I feel so good today,
We touched ground on an international runway
Jet propelled back home, from over the seas to the u. s. a.

The Beatles took these two songs and said "pff.. we can improve on this, lets give them some (their British so they have that witty gland that most americans lack) competition and they came up with

Back in the U.S.S.R

Flew in from Miami Beach BOAC
Didn't get to bed last night
Oh, the way the paper bag was on my knee
Man, I had a dreadful flight
I'm back in the USSR
You don't know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the USSR, yeah

Been away so long I hardly knew the place
Gee, it's good to be back home
Leave it till tomorrow to unpack my case
Honey disconnect the phone
I'm back in the USSR
You don't know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the US
Back in the US
Back in the USSR

Well the Ukraine girls really knock me out
They leave the west behind
And Moscow girls make me sing and shout
They Georgia's always on my my my my my my my my my mind

Oh, show me round your snow peaked
mountain way down south
Take me to you daddy's farm
Let me hear you balalaika's ringing out
Come and keep your comrade warm
I'm back in the USSR
Hey, You don't know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the USSR
Oh, let me tell you honey

------
Haha. Do you know what a Balalaika is?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Balaika%2C_Nordisk_familjebok.png

Phantasy lessons

Elaborate an intricate explanation of your dreams,
write them down on parchment clean:

-Read them over,
weave them over,
onto fabric.
Around your shoulder.

-Scarf and shawl,
theyll keep you warm.
On stormy nights,
don't let them tear.

Yes, they hurt, they go to far.
Mend them, kiss them,
don't just not care.

Hopes and wishes,
Daze and fancy.
The day will come when you will share.

Grinning all the way

If it were simpler
I'd be too bored to bother

If it were harder
I'd stand up and quit

Give me your best
I'll match you and raise you

Your smile makes me smile
I'm probably not going to win here

I'm going down
Grinning all the way

swans in ponds

elephant man just wants to live
he just wants to live in his own capacity

tell me, oh electronic servant
where can i find my next ordeal?
the next amusement ?
the next excitement?

swans in concrete man made ponds
piano keys- notes that fade
the waters green- the air is stuffy
a silent breeze that takes the edge away

..enough with sentimentality
dream me a reality
set me free from these chains
id like to walk round a corner
without hearing my own requiem
played by my own, very own
mind tune orchestra

rain
on this brigade
under this sky
too many words that rhyme with sky
fly, try, my, sigh, die, nigh

night
it snows
its black
and i listen to a piece of track
thats raw
it leaves an impression
of dry whole grain bread
thats fallen in dirt
but your too hungry to care

back to my symphony
you didn't think i was crazy
untill you listened to these stringed words
rose gardens and salvation from land tied together at the bottom
of those concrete ponds made by men

men who invented those bright shiny lights
which command and entertain
brodcasted by signals from stations
connecting most of us while stuffing others
into boxes

like the guy who cleans the ponds
who feeds the swans
like the guy who feels for
the elephant man

its gone around
this is your thrill

world events 2006 and beyond -minus famines and disasters

goto

here to read what i wrote

lamentations

rag doll rag doll why do you lie in that corner?
torn and old you were once something

you can not know me fully
how can you since even i am at loss
of why I'm here?

swallows possess the power to fly away
but what if his wings were crushed and beaten
he'd be stuck limping across ground
slowly dying untill hes eaten
by crows

for sake of mercy, why do beggers moan?
i dont dare tie this mess of words together
nor form or flowing, strewn they are flung

enough to try but not to finish
im not apart of what you see