Snow Globes and Music Boxes.

Christmas is what I see?
Then christmas is a second grader drawing a sun on my hand with purple marker.
Playing 'are you smarter than a 5th grader?'
Hiding brustle sprouts. Remembering things.
"It's just a hard christmas this year" he said.
I had never seen him cry before.
Nobody ever wants to sing on rockband.

Sometime around midnight

Someone always cries on Christmas.
But It's frustrating to me how I am supposed to ignore it and just pretend, because it's christmas.
Theres always an excuse for why we shouldnt deal with something sad.
He cried that evening and fell into his own arms. All I could do was watch.

And this morning they argued with me. I think if they were really as happy as they act they wouldnt argue at the slightest notion.

And my grandmother used to come every christmas morning. Remember when we got that Dream Street CD? Our family room used to look so big.
One single couch and a christmas tree, the only furniture. Fresh white carpet, new white walls. Mom was never big on color. Wrapping paper and pine needles, because we used to get a real tree. Boy bands blasting and cart-wheels and snow falling out the window as the sky grew darker and colder. But it was warm inside and there was no school for a while. That was all that mattered. We used to have christmas at our house. Unfortunately, it was built on a broken bond.

At dinner today, we said grace and she was thinking of Uncle Gene. I think everyone could tell.
She didnt say much, but it meant alot. Sometimes words fail. I think maybe that's love.

The difference between my two holidays is that some people care and some people only care about "making conversation".

You are not my looking glass.

The problem with my mother and I is that neither of us responds the way the other one wants.
And the only reason she worried about me getting out of bed on those lonely days was because she wanted some control over something. And she needed a babysitter.
I can see that.
And the reason your back hurts so much is because you put too much pressure on your heals when you walk. Your footsteps are loud and heavy. I can hear your anger coming down the stairs. You're voice barely masques it. The way you carry yourself emits your bitterness. Stiff, as if that will keep the pain from pouring out. But no, it leaks with every word you speak to me. And until you recognize it, it will just continue to burn you. Incessant in your ignorance. And Someday when you need me, I will not treat you like a joke. Because none of this is funny.

"But our lives are not our own. We should give them away. God is still in the business of redemption"

This is true.
What good is my life if nothing comes out of it for anyone else?
And all that time I was alone, who's to say if I really existed in those moments?
All that time. When Almost nothing was worth getting out of bed for.
And Nothing was worth talking about. No one worth talking to.
Nothing was worth seeing or doing.
Was any of it real?
Was I really all alone?


"Here, small things mean more than they should.
People get angry when they have nothing,
And I can never seem to find the time to figure it all out.
Wake up.
It's Worth it."
-8/22/09

It's strange how we fight for change only to notice how everything else remains the same.

Angel, you sing about beautiful things.

Tomorrow we'll sing joy to the world.

Do you remember I love you?

the buttereflies in my stomach... I think they've forgotten how to fly.

I wish I could go back to when that picture was fresh.
Before we had gotten so stale.

I dont like when people talk "just to make conversation".
I would rather talk because I have something to say.

These words become over used

What I regret the most is not letting myself fall in love with you.
But I'm happy you're happy.
I'm getting there.

And I have learned that even landlocked lovers yearn for the sea like navy men

Bitterness runs in my family.
But I know that I am a mighty hero of faith.
And so are they, they just dont know it.

Her seatbelt is off before we even turn onto our street.
I am invisible in the passenger seat.
Her mind is somewhere else. Hours ahead.
And this moment means nothing to her.
I mean nothing to her.
And that's no way to live.

I am going to slow down and remember what my life looks like.
I will make is something I am proud of and happy with.

Sooner surrender

I am unsure.
When I look inside my soul I see uncertainty and fear and pain.
I also see that I am strong, caring, open minded, smart, beautiful, and talented.
And I may not understand all of it, but I will take it with me.
I've been keeping old wounds for too long now.

Talk like an open book

I have this unsettling feeling in my stomach.
It's so unecessary.
I'm sickening myself with the repetition of this life.
How many other people will wake up tomorrow morning,
and do the same thing they did yesterdady?

I know too many people who are unhappy and unwilling to change.
Too many people who are going too fast.

And I just want to slow down and ask you how you're doing,
And it would be nice if i didnt get a summarized answer.
If maybe you used your words to just communicate instead of beg for attention.
Maybe you could just ask me what I think.

Remember I was on the oceanside.
I could have gone anywhere from there.
But now I have limited choices.
Colliding with time.
Which doesnt even exist outside our minds.

I want to be somewhere unfamiliar.
And I want to be there fearlessly.
God will help me get there.

"with my cup of coffee, and all those caring people..."

I like when you're talking to someone and they ask you questions and they listen to the answer.
And when someone says Good Morning, they mean it.

17

I was talking to my friend about religion today.
It made me think about God and the last time I watched the news.

I think maybe Selfishness is a gift. It might hurt too much if all we cared about was other people. We would feel too happy and too sad. And someone once told me that the world isnt built on extremes.