Writers-I love this guy.

"Writers don't make any money at all. We make about a dollar. It is terrible. But then again we don't work either. We sit around in our underwear until noon then go downstairs and make coffee, fry some eggs, read the paper, read part of a book, smell the book, wonder if perhaps we ourselves should work on our book, smell the book again, throw the book across the room because we are quite jealous that any other person wrote a book, feel terribly guilty about throwing the schmuck's book across the room because we secretly wonder if God in heaven noticed our evil jealousy, or worse, our laziness. We then lie across the couch facedown and mumble to God to forgive us because we are secretly afraid He is going to dry up all our words because we envied another man's stupid words. And for this, as I said, we are paid a dollar. We are worth so much more."
— Donald Miller

"ALONE

One of my new housemates, Stacy, wants to write a story about an astronaut. In his story the astronaut is wearing a suit that keeps him alive by recycling his fluids. In the story the astronaut is working on a space station when an accident takes place, and he is cast into space to orbit the earth, to spend the rest of his life circling the globe. Stacy says this story is how he imagines hell, a place where a person is completely alone, without others and without God. After Stacy told me about his story, I kept seeing it in my mind. I thought about it before I went to sleep at night. I imagined myself looking out my little bubble helmet at blue earth, reaching toward it, closing it between my puffy white space-suit fingers, wondering if my friends were still there. In my imagination I would call to them, yell for them, but the sound would only come back loud within my helmet. Through the years my hair would grow long in my helmet and gather around my forehead and fall across my eyes. Because of my helmet I would not be able to touch my face with my hands to move my hair out of my eyes, so my view of earth, slowly, over the first two years, would dim to only a thin light through a curtain of thatch and beard.
I would lay there in bed thinking about Stacy's story, putting myself out there in the black. And there came a time, in space, when I could not tell whether I was awake or asleep. All my thoughts mingled together because I had no people to remind me what was real and what was not real. I would punch myself in the side to feel pain, and this way I could be relatively sure I was not dreaming. Within ten years I was beginning to breathe heavy through my hair and my beard as they were pressing tough against my face and had begun to curl into my mouth and up my nose. In space, I forgot that I was human. I did not know whether I was a ghost or an apparition or a demon thing.
After I thought about Stacy's story, I lay there in bed and wanted to be touched, wanted to be talked to. I had the terrifying thought that something like that might happen to me. I thought it was just a terrible story, a painful and ugly story. Stacy had delivered as accurate a description of a hell as could be calculated. And what is sad, what is very sad, is that we are proud people, and because we have sensitive egos and so many of us live our lives in front of our televisions, not having to deal with real people who might hurt us or offend us, we float along on our couches like astronauts moving aimlessly through the Milky Way, hardly interacting with other human beings at all.

Blue Like Jazz, 171"

— Donald Miller

"I once listened to an Indian on television say that God was in the wind and the water, and I wondered at how beautiful that was because it meant you could swim in Him or have Him brush your face in a breeze."
— Donald Miller

~ It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll. This is how God does things. ~ Donald Miller

Ame...

If ever there is a tomorrow when we are not together...there is something you should always remember. You are BRAVER than you believe, STRONGER than you seem, & STRONGER than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart, I will always be in your HEART.
-Winnie

I just came to my new house. All I can think about is...
-how you would love the overhang in my room
-how we would have WAY too much fun playing in the forest
-how everyone from Nathan's collage would think we were the craziest people ever
-how we would laugh for about 2 hours about the name of where i live: "junglepot"
-that every thrift store i see, i think of how amazing it would be to go there with no one else but you
...and I'm sitting here writing this, honestly not, knowing what to say.

The house I will be living in is beautiful. The land is gorgeous and the horses that'll be here will be amazing. My bedroom is fun and I can be creative with it. It's big, new, and intriguing but more than that, it is the scariest thing that I have seen in so long.

I want a hand to hold when I come here. Rachel talks about her wanting Andrew here and I just want my best friend Ame. How does that work? I want to pray with her and read my bible with her. I want to talk about God, and boys, and just hang out. Why haven't we done that in so long?

I realized that no one else would understand my disgust at using a beer labeled napkin as toilet paper. I realized that no matter who, sleeping in a bed with someone will never be as comfortable as it is with you. I'm staring at your facebook profile and I just miss you. I was the first one to fall up the stairs in my new house and only you would have thought it was funny. I ran into the granite counter and got a bruise and I know you would have laughed so much.

All I can think about is everything we've done and everything I don't want to loose with us. I miss you so much and I can't do anything about it.

But..I guess the good thing is, is that it isn't done yet. I still have 2 months at home and we're going to make those 2 months better than you could ever imagine. Then we have the summer, and during the summer we'll get our calling and talking scheduled so when we get busy during school, we'll still talk. We still have time to eat icecream, applesause, and cauliflower. We still have time to cry with Matt during movies. We still have time. We're best friends. I'm not going anywhere.

I love you a whole heck of a lot and I'm not just :) for no reason. (You better know what I mean).
I miss you, and I can't honestly say that there's someone else I'd rather be here with. I'm sorry that you can't be here.

2 things

There are 2 things that I have began to learn.
1. I am the Lord's beloved. He loves me more than life and I should be committed to my relationship with him. I don't need to be going and looking for love from a guy because 'my guy' is Jesus Christ. He is forever committed to me. I owe him the same, and more.
2. I need to acknowledge everything to him. The good, the bad, the smiles, and the sad. Everything should be given to him with love. Everything should be given to him in worship. I love him.

I won't care anymore.

I say goodmorning.
You say goodnight.
Bring the tea with that smile,
This is me praying for your every breath.
I need some clarity to see the next morning.
I've been gone too short of a time to understand,
The meaning of missing this.
I honastly believed in you.
but there isn't any reason for disbelief anymore.
One word from your mouth steals my heart,
One smile from your lips and I cannot stiffle my laughter.
How fake were you,
and even now I still belong to your eyes.
Even now I would still melt into your arms.
But I've decided that I'm too strong for you.
It's not possible for me not to care,
But I won't hate you.
I've heard your sincere apologies,
And I've heard your voice when you say you miss me.
But, I won't care anymore.
I won't tell you that I love...
your hair,
your smile,
your eyes,
your tears,
your cross,
your clothes,
your smell,
your what?
I won't care anymore.
I won't care
.
.
.
.
Anymore.

Right Nowish

Tessa has decided to convince herself that everything, down here, will be perfect, that it'll be a new adventure, that even though I'll miss everyone SO MUCH, maybe I'll be able to make new acquaintances/maybe friends. I'm going to learn how to trust God with my life and awknowledge him as more than just a God, but my best friend cause he deserves that much. That's it.

P.S. Ame, your post is the one under this one. :)

Ame...if i could make this into a post secret i would. It's for you. :)

I missed reading post secret with you. It's not as fun without someone to laugh with. I just really miss you.

Jesus Christ

Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face
The kind you'd find on someone that could save
If they don't put me away
It'll be a miracle

Do you believe you're missing out?
That everything good is happening somewhere else
With nobody in your bed
The night is hard to get through

And I will die all alone
And when I arrive I won't know anyone

Jesus Christ, I'm alone again
So what did you do those three days you were dead?
Because this problem is gonna last
More than the weekend

Jesus Christ I'm not scared to die
But I'm a little bit scared of what comes after
Do I get the gold chariot
Or do I float through the ceiling

Or do I divide and pull apart
Cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark
This ship went down in sight of land
And at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands?

I know you're coming in the night like a thief
But I've had some time, O Lord, to hone my lying technique
I know you think that I'm someone you can trust
But I'm scared I'll get scared and I swear I'll try to nail you back up
So do you think that we could work out a sign
So I'll know it's you and that it's over so I won't even try
I know you're coming for the people like me
But we all got wood and nails
And we turn out hate in factories
We all got wood and nails
And we turn out hate in factories
We all got wood and nails
And we sleep inside of this machine

"Jesus Christ" by Jesse Lacey

It's a new time.

So. This is a new blog for a new time. New inspirations. A new start without complaining. That is what this will be. It will not be a chapter of goodbyes.

I'm moving, but that is not the end of the world. I may be leaving this town, but I will be under the same sky as everyone else.

This may be a little lame, and a little late but there is a couple things I want to say about my family. I love them a lot.

My mom. She is the stronghold. She cries about silly things like people singing and dancing to 'The Sound of Music'. She laughs like a kid sometimes, letting her head fall back. The best thing you can do for her is make her laugh because when you see that, you see her soul. She loves Jesus and is really into have a relationship with him because she truly believes he understands completely. She is beautiful.

My dad. He really relies on me, trusts me, gives me something to live up to. He calls me his wise one when really he is the one that is wise. There's a common misconception that he is all about himself; he really is not. He's kinda short and he dances when he's happy. I really love him. I've cried with him, laughed with him, and talked about intense things with him. He really loves the Lord as well.

My brother. Nathan. He really is the big brother. I'm the youngest. He's beat me to be who I am to today, to say it literally. He is intelligent, good looking, popular, and brave. He's shown me what faith really looks like. He's had so many different beliefs and pressures upon him that I admire him for the person he's become. He is amazing, inside and out. He really cares for people, not just their faces.

My sister. Becca. What to say...Rebecca is sarcastic, blunt, opinionated, moody, and I love that gorgeous woman with all my heart. She is the kind of big sister you always want to be just like because of her incredible talents and the way she can voice her opinions in a brief second. She cries when she's hurt and doesn't cover what is going on in her life. She has told me I am worth it, given me the confidence I need to make it through. She is what keeps me praying.

My sister. Ray. Oh Rachel. My amazing, climatic, bi-polar sister. Haha. You are my partner in crime, my Yin to Yang, my beautiful, wonderful sister. She has been paired with the amazing Andrew and I am so happy for her. When she smiles you really see her, and when she jabs at you, it really hurts. We were inseparable when young and now I've taken it as my personal quest to protect her. I haven't done a very good job.

I love them all. Way, way too much. And these are only the few things that make them wonderful.

Not Good Enough

These words are not good enough to speak.
These phrases, there's something more to seek.
I'm sick and tired of all these sighs,
The running, fighting, and the cries.
The sunrise comes and robins sing.
The hope a brand new day can bring,
Is snuffed out by all the lies and tears,
There's only one future without fears.
Every story has at least two sides,
I'm never good enough, even in strides.
There's too much of me that's way too tired,
I'm giving up all that was desired.
Tell me something I don't know,
Don't tell me who I am or where to go.
Don't tell me I'm not good enough for
even the things that make me a bore.
I'm really sick of being told I'm not good-
enough. I don't want to hear what I should,
Be.

I have this funny feeling that I lost my best friends when they started dating.

The Move.

Watching my life change before my eyes,
It's hard to think, hard to synchronize,
My thoughts and my feelings,
All bundled up. My dealings,
All a lie I've given so that I can see,
Who I am and who I'm suppose to be.

There's this girl I see every once in a while,
She's exhausted, like she's been walking for miles.
She would be looking back at me, eyes so intense,
Like she's stuck in a yard behind a big fence.
She looks like she can't make it through the next day,
But then her face changes, she covers the fray.

When I look in the mirror the girl I've seen,
Is looking back at me, extremely unkeen.
It's scary to think that I'll do that today,
When it gets far too difficult for my emotions to stay.
I'll put them away like some change in my pocket,
They'll go in a glass jar, and become a dry socket.
I've been told is a barrier that makes me look proud,
Tucking them away, like being wrapped in a shroud.

It's become a complete reaction to tears,
That I've started to stifle, while meeting deaf ears.
I'm sick of seeming like such a big fake,
But I don't know how to break these walls that I make.
Each day that goes by, it's like falling in love,
Falling out of it, you need help from above.
I need some directions for these murderous paths,
Cause every one's anger is only suppressed to wraths.

I've only got a couple more chances,
To make this day better then all of my dances.
A prayer will rise from the ground to above,
And as believing in blessings, they'll fly in like doves.

School in BC...is going to suck. I will probably be there for 2 extra years. Lovely.

If you care to read more, do-under this. If not....please do not feel obligated to. It's just a rant that I will probably regret later.

what kind of crappy course selection do they have in BC? They make grade 10's take physical education, they don't have any phycology without social studies, they have only 2 drama classes without plays(different grades), a band class, and a dance class. I CAN'T DANCE, They have "Enriched" English classes instead of Academic or Applied which means that I'll probably be taking a class that is either way too hard or way to easy. Exams are sometimes worth 40 % OF MY MARK = me crying while I fail. Can they do that?They have a bunch of courses about "First Peoples" and I have to take social studies before I can take any grade 11 Law, Social justice, Geography ext. classes. Basically, I am in grade 10 once again. So now instead of moving into grade 12 like I...shouldn't be but would have been, I am redoing grade 10. Joy oh bliss...(Some things don't even have exams or have 'optional' exams...why would you want to take an optional exam?) Everyone must also take math ALL (4 years but actually not four...its 5 because high school there starts at grade 8[my cousin will be in our high school]) throughout high school. It's getting hard to look at the brights side. I will tomorrow when I'm not quite as grumpy.

Toronto

During my walk in Toronto yesterday there was not a sound on the streets, just the beat of my own heart. As I looked around me, stunned by the amount of people sitting in the rain on the ground, shaking with the cold and hunger that they have to live with. Many people know these people as homeless but to me they are merely lost souls.

I may be pathetic, but I don't care. I may be too compassionate but don't you dare make fun.

As I walked past these 'homeless hobo's' tears were two seconds away from streaming down my face. I saw two homeless men: one in a business suit, lying on the ground with an umbrella over half of his body. he was curled up and all I could see was the bottom of his shoes and pant leg, and one sitting in the rain, shaking with a blanket over his dog, who sat beside him.

My heart broke every time I walked past one of these men. I cowered in my mind thinking I couldn't possibly do something for them because I was a young and these were men who could possibly hurt me. I ran away without questions.

By the end of the day I couldn't do it anymore.I couldn't pretend that I was alright with the pain that was going on in those streets, in the minds of those people...and even much the same, in the minds of the people who could walk past them without a worry for their safety, their hearts, or even their souls.

It's just sad...