Things I write

Lie on the stones

Can you feel how cold they are?

Lie in the street

Can you see the dawn over the buildings

Sun is weakly climbing out of bed

Spread your arms

Open yourself for once

Just let go for a moment

Curl into the hard ground

Feel that release

 

 

Turn your cheek

And smell the soil

Close your eyes

Feel the cool breeze on your face

And live in this now that we hide behind screens and fashions and buildings and fascists

Tables and cables and prejudiced women

Boggle your mind

Really look at me

Today is of firsts

And quenching the thirsts of our spirits

Whom we weigh down by modern living

Which was never living in the first place

 

 

I love you

You love me

So simple, so sweet

So needlessly drowned by ideas preconceived

If this is love

And we say that it is

Why deny ourselves the joy it brings?

Just because it’s not your kind of love

Doesn’t mean it’s not love at all

 

 

If I love many people

And I know that I do

I’ll love them and free myself and free them, too

 

 

If I love You

Will You think differently about love?

There are many ways to love someone

I’ll love You in mine

And smile because of it

And trace my fingers around your eyes

And never belittle my feelings

Just because we’re not lovers

In the way that You see them

 

You know, it’s amazing how sometimes you just feel so good about yourself. Not the way that you do when you look sexy or pretty or when you’ve got some guy that you’re crushing on and the world is just made of candyfloss and helium. Not like that at all.

In that way when you realise that suuuuure, you’re a hipster. And you’re perfectly fine with it! Except you don’t suffer from illusions of ‘coolness’ and you certainly don’t answer questions about your job with vague non-answers. Yes, I live with my parents. I certainly do not earn enough money to move out the house. Not at all ashamed of it! This way, I don’t pay for my own food and Lindi washes and irons my clothes (you know, if I actually put them in the washing basket and stuff). Yes, I make supper but I NEVER have to pack the dishwasher and that is my worst. Dirty dishes just gross me out. I love my Mom and my step-dad. It’s crazy that I’m saying that but I do love my step-dad. I remember when I used to think about if my Mom died (I was still in school at the time) and I’d have to live with my step-dad without her (cuz there’s no way my Dad could’ve supported us at the time and I certainly wouldn’t want to live with him - no offense Dad, I just don’t really dig small-town life). And a few weeks ago, my Mom went on a team-building exercise for work and was away for the weekend. And Paul and I were fine! There was no issue.

It was amazing.

I’m not thin, not really. But I’m looking for healthy ways to get there, which is good because though starving myself has been an option in the past, it’s not very sustainable. At least, not the way I do it. So I don’t stay thin. Which completely defeats the point.

My clothes are craaaazzzyyyy hipster. Just because hipster suits me and I like the style. I LIKE INSTAGRAM. So shoot me! Haha. No pun intended. I listen to weird obscure bands - my Dad had me listening to weird music since I was born. No joke. I have got to have been one of the only ten-year-olds in the world who knew (and liked) Captain Beefhart. Don’t like them anymore but not the point.

I don’t have major problems with my parents. In fact, I absolutely adore my Mom and am so glad that I get to spend this much time with her. My Dad and I are never going to have the picture-perfect relationship, I will never be okay having sex talks with him and I will always wear a bra at his house (unless there is no possible way one can tell that I’m not). There are things about him I will probably never know. But that’s sort of okay. I love him anyway and I’m willing to give us time. Maybe it’s not what having a relationship with your Dad is supposed to be like but at least I have one with him! I’m thankful for that. I don’t want to imagine what it would be like without him in my life. Love him to bits.

I don’t have sex. I’m waiting til I get married. And not because it goes with being a Christian (seriously, how many Christians do we all know that have sex?) and not because I think it’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m waiting because I want to. I want to be able to hold something of myself just for the person I marry, to be able to say, “I had no idea when I would meet you or who you were going to be but I knew I would someday. So I’ve waited, patiently, to give this part of myself to you that no one has ever had before or will ever have. Because I love you.” Otherwise, what’s to distinguish the kind of love you have for your husband from the kind of love you’ve had for your boyfriends? I know that the emotion is probably different and that act of commitment is a big step but I want there to be more than that. 

It obviously makes my dating life rather unusual. I mean, I don’t go past first base. I’m perfectly fine with that. I don’t want to make abstaining so difficult for myself and if the only thing I keep for my husband is penetration, it really doesn’t seem that awesome in the end. “So, like, technically I have kept myself for you buuuut I totally let all these other people go down on me. And I’ve seen them all naked. And I’ve done things to them. But I promise, I was waiting til I got married.” It’s mean but it’s how I see it. Go big or go home, right America? So I just don’t really date people…

I’m really lonely. Relationship-wise. I want to have someone to just be with. To love in that way. But they have to be such a specific kind of person that I don’t really ever meet people I’d like to date. I have brief infatuations with people I just think are beautiful or gorgeous but that’s about it.

I don’t blaze or do any other form of drugs. It’s something I feel really strongly about and seeing the way people treat it as if it really is some harmless thing saddens me. No matter how much I talk about it, no one seems to listen. So I’ve stopped talking about it.

I don’t understand casual relationships. What’s casual about them? They still hurt at the end! So what’s the point? If you’re going to get hurt at the end, you might as well date someone you’re willing to get hurt over. That makes sense to me.

I love so many of my friends. Really love them. They’re so beautiful. I just want us all to lie in this big pile and just sleep on each other and touch each others arms and faces. In the most innocent way with no sexual element whatsoever. Like puppies or kittens - just being so comfortable with each other and knowing that no matter what you’re feeling, it can’t hurt you in that place. Because everyone around you, loves you. I want that to be a thing. I don’t think it’s such a crazy request - it could totes happen. I’m holding thumbs.

I’m not an intellectual. I don’t read cool books or have this awesome education or know about politics. I don’t ponder the meaning of life. I don’t want to sit around and talk about all these super chic topics and say things that sound intelligent but don’t really mean anything. I’m okay with being open, honest, not-so-exciting me. I honestly think there’s nothing wrong with who I am and that I actually gain more friends by being open and honest and not-so-exciting than by being super cool and clever and awesome.

I’m just… happy :) I’m surrounded by amazing people and amazing little moments. I have this incredible job and the best boss I could hope for right now. Life is good. It’s not difficult or complicated and I’m not constantly battling my self esteem issues or girl/boy problems. Sure, I’m lonely but not lonely enough to really worry about it. There’s nothing like having God at your side. I don’t care how cheesy it sounds. It’s true. And I’m okay with telling the truth, even if it makes me completely uncool.

Things I write

Trees stick up like needles to the sky

A thread of dreams sewed tight

With the will of our delusion

Holding into heavens

Borne from tears and made from leather

And pain can turn to pleasure

If all your days are dark

And darkened more by gouging fingers

We only learn to cut out the heart we need

Chipping corners cuz we think that’s beauty

But what we don’t know is

The untouched heart is most beautiful of all

For softness softens pain

And turns anger into gold

And purity washes clean

No matter what you’ve been told about it

With your fingers on my lips

And your skin under my fingertips

Could the tender flames

Not be swallowed by the fire

Tracing veins over that milkyway

Finding galaxies in navels

And stars inside your bones

Shooting stars explode behind your eyes

And the blackhole eats up all of you

For feather light I’ll try

But if I’m chained and weighed down

My touch will be, too

And I want to take your diamond-core heart

And breathe it back to life

But if I have a diamond heart, too

How can I hope to fix you?

Things that make me sad

I always thought it was just sexual attraction. But without that, I really do love you. I keep wanting to be special to you. I keep wanting to understand you completely, wanting to know every in and out of your mind and every feeling that ever touched your heart. But I don’t. And I probably can’t.

And for some reason, knowing that makes me want to cry.

Sometimes I wish I could know people inside out just by looking at them. I wish I could touch your hand and see inside your soul. I want to see every single part of you and spend hours listening to you talk. And then I’d look at you and love you even more for trusting me.

And none of that is sexual. 

Things I Mean, Sincerely

All you people that I love, that I want to save simply by loving, that drown in these clouded pools of despair and sorrow and unworthiness. It’s a lie. I promise.

Maybe I won’t ever be enough. Maybe that’s just the way it works. Maybe you need to find something inside of you that makes you want to try harder, breath in, live longer. 

I keep hoping that I can at least be the first step. That once there’s that shocking revelation and you realise that when I look at you, I see something completely different to what you see. I think you’re beautiful. I love it when you’re happy - it makes me so incredibly glad to be near you. I don’t need you to be funny and I don’t need you to be cool. I just need you to be. I don’t want you to be witty all the time and I don’t care how you dress. Love isn’t based on those things. And your sadness cuts me deeply, makes me want to cry, causes this awful ache in my chest and all I want to do is hold you and make it all better. 

But I don’t know how, not really.

I’ll just be that first step. Once you can see why I love you, maybe you’ll love you, too. 

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Twilight soundtracks: validating commercialism one song at a time.

Grizzly Bear ft Victoria Legrand - Slow Life

I absolutely adore this song

Things I Feel

You know how you used to say something stupid about “I’m rubber and you’re glue” when you were a kid?

Well you’re a fucking gaping wound and I’m a walking bandage.

I always need to fix people! And it just hurts me to see them in so much pain and all lost and confused! And I wish I could express these emotions in some sort of mind-blowing and meaningful art because sometimes it just fills me up and I want to let it out but nothing seems good enough to convey the incredible beauty I see in so many people.

I don’t understand how you can hate someone when they were born exactly the same way you were and ended up the way they did because life and the world screwed them over. I’m not saying people are blameless - of course they need to be held accountable for the things they do! I’m saying they’re just people. And a little love goes a long way.

No, I’m not a hippy. In fact, I hate hippies. They were dirty, selfish drug addicts who spread STDs and killed their children through negligence.

Anyway. Moral of the story? Don’t judge people so quickly. You’d be amazed at the shit they’ve gone through to get to where they are now.

Yes, I know this doesn’t really flow or make any sense. It’s okay. I just had one of those moments where you’re sitting in the dark on your laptop and you think there’s less coffee in your mug than there actually is so you pour some on yourself when you enthusiastically tip it too far.

So I don’t care. 

I’m going to organise this blog a little now.

Things I Write

This happens to be one of my favourite songs. That I wrote. I like it a loooot.

Track it

Track it like it’s easy

Imitate the breezy

Distant cold demeanour

Follow in her footsteps

Kick off all the icy

Stalagmites that grow up

Everywhere she treads

Believe you can melt her stony heart

And find a soul beneath her skin

Track it like it’s easy

Trace it like it’s freehand

Cuff her to your wrist

Things I Write

I’ve been writing more lyrics lately. Not all as equally cool or catchy, some of them not at all. But I’m putting them up here because I’m so happy to have that rush of creative juices flowing again that I’ll encourage myself by putting the products “out there”. 

Lay it down

Lay it down so low

It’ll seep under our feet

It’ll seep into the floor

Let it fester

Way down underground

Let it fashion out a tail

Let it grow its claws

And sound the call

For all the outlaws

Hear that noise

Hear it in your mind

As it’s bleeding out your ears

As it’s seeing out your eyes

Sing its song

Sing the words out loud

Feel the marching in your feet

Join the rowdy crowd

And be the law

Join the bay for blood

You’ve got to hunt them down

You’ve got to tie them up

Embrace the violence

Inflict the pain

Abandon all illusions

That we are still humane

Lay. It. Down.

Things I write

I happen to really like this song. I don’t care if its emo or whatever. It’s MINE, which is the exciting part.

Darling let the sun shine in

On our bodies, let it touch our skin

Darling please don’t leave me here

I have seen you and I wouldn’t dare 

To hurt a single hair on your defenceless head

We can watch the lights come out

Across the city as the night falls down

In the darkness, in that glow

I could reach for you and I could sow

A little seed of love that crouches in your heart

Darling please don’t be afraid

I know it’s hard but do it for my sake

I wish I could show you more

But I bury it beneath the floor

Or you will run away in terror and ashamed

Sometimes when I see you smile

I like to think you’ve let your guard come down

Sometimes when I see you cry

In the movies, when they fill your eyes

I like to think that you are opening for me

Darling let me touch your face

Let my fingers lightly trace the lines

Darling let me touch your soul

I’ll be careful - I will merely hold

It in my palms and love it just because it’s yours

Darling let the sun shine in

Let it paint its patterns on our skin

Darling I will keep you here

I will live with you inside my head

Over and again though I know that you are gone

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