tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15549599762358401222024-03-13T10:35:25.019-07:00Musings From the Sleep Deprived"Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences." — Sylvia PlathUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-69267653469093157012011-04-02T23:16:00.000-07:002011-04-02T23:16:54.872-07:00Worthy of Love<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Sometimes<em><span style="font-size: x-small;"> I wish I was someone other than me</span></em>- fighting to make the <span style="font-size: x-small;">mirror</span> happy.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Trying to find whatever is<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> missing</span>, won't you help me back to glory.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I want to be<u> beautiful</u>, make you stand in awe, look inside my heart and be amazed.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I want to hear you <em>say who I am is quite enough</em>.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><u><em>Just want to be worthy of love, and beautiful."</em></u></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-12040327648676850322011-03-28T23:08:00.001-07:002011-03-28T23:08:16.827-07:00loved<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSRDoTKJAS1lPqYZkRr1pQKnymDqsMEwnVkwpiv02E_ooHClilRTRefapsVHnr2EkObEc5JZWKoE4FyT-vQUT1ul6jnqRx0-albLYwhSqwi_eeGZCvVkhJ-LLNS50u7Pual9GuUdsi2qzA/s1600/To+be+loved.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSRDoTKJAS1lPqYZkRr1pQKnymDqsMEwnVkwpiv02E_ooHClilRTRefapsVHnr2EkObEc5JZWKoE4FyT-vQUT1ul6jnqRx0-albLYwhSqwi_eeGZCvVkhJ-LLNS50u7Pual9GuUdsi2qzA/s320/To+be+loved.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-37660002486123009932011-03-27T21:26:00.000-07:002011-03-27T21:26:56.695-07:00Definition<div style="text-align: center;"><strong>Impervious</strong>: (<em>adj</em>) Incapable of being affected. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-4113302605879093782011-03-23T18:36:00.001-07:002011-03-23T18:36:59.233-07:00Beautiful<div style="text-align: center;">Just wanna be worthy of <em>love</em> & <u>beautiful</u>. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-15456655809926011222011-03-16T11:17:00.000-07:002011-03-16T11:17:58.637-07:00Update On My DadLots to say... Where to start?<br />
<br />
On Monday, my dog died. I am not so torn up over it because, though he was sweet, I wasn't very attached to him. As a result of his death, my dad went to dig a hole in the back yard yesterday to bury him in. But, I guess when he was digging the hole, he had a heart attack, so he went to the hospital. My sister called me when she was getting to the hospital and let me know what was going on. I asked her to keep me updated- she seemed to think everything was going to be fine. <br />
<br />
I didn't hear from her until about an hour later (Around 7:30pm) when she told me he was just getting tests run to see how blocked his arteries are. It turned out that they were all between 60-90% blocked. He coded twice during that time. (Which means his heart stopped twice and they had to resuscitate him.) So, they put a stint in and a temporary pace maker, and they are putting two more stints in later this week.<br />
<br />
He is doing okay now. I have talked to him and he just seems real tired. He made me laugh this morning when he said that there is no light like everyone says there is, when you start to die, only darkness. LOL. : ) Way to make light of the situation, dad!<br />
<br />
We would all really appreciate your prayers! Thanks so much! : )Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-59752290520112454602011-03-11T01:30:00.000-08:002011-03-11T01:30:19.739-08:00Earthquakes in JapanFinally thinking of someone other than myself.<br />
<br />
The earthquakes in Japan are devastating. There have been 5 major earthquakes ranging from 6.0 to 8.9. They have caused tsunami's to sweep across the land at ranging speed. People are dying and its so tragic. Those poor people are facing such utter devastation and they are helpless to it's effects. They cannot talk to the land and waves and ask it for reprieve. Neither of them obey the command of humans. So, those in Japan have no other choice than to face it. And how sad of a reality that it. <br />
<br />
I pray for them. I pray that God will give them grace upon grace in relation to injuries, heartache, death, etc. I pray that they will not turn to their gods in this time and assume they are being punished- that they will not turn to falsehood. I pray that they will seek the true God in this and that He will deliver them from this tragedy.<br />
<br />
The waves are still moving, and the death toll is rising. The only good news I have heard is that no other country is more prepared for this than Japan.<br />
<br />
Prayers and love toward those in Japan.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-20819620923372548822011-03-10T01:34:00.000-08:002011-03-10T01:34:07.024-08:00Reset ButtonSometimes I wish I had a reset button. When I pressed it, it would reset all my emotions and ideas, clearing out all that had been added and leaving only what is essential and basic. I wish I had this restart button so I could forget all of the trouble I've been facing lately and instead look at it as just simple circumstances. All the while knowing what is true- that everything is only momentary and it will all eventually pass. I would know the truth about things and not know my negative reactions to them.<br />
<br />
I wish I had a reset button so I could be sane again.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-73099880020365286012011-02-27T17:06:00.000-08:002011-02-27T17:06:28.553-08:00Love<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>Would you follow me into the dark?</strong></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-32834831357505463702011-02-26T03:13:00.000-08:002011-02-26T03:17:23.673-08:00Sylvia and II stare at the clock, and the numbers mock me. 2:56am. They snicker at the thought of me being so far away from slumbering sweetly. I breathe in and out quickly. Anxiety at 3am has a strange effect on me. I lay here trying to pinpoint its origin, but I only become more overwhelmed with worries and draw farther away from sleep. <br />
<br />
Such has been my routine for the past three nights. The only difference tonight is that I have no one to worry about bothering with my alertness at such an odd hour. My roommate is gone for the night.<br />
<br />
I have been laying here reading the journals of Sylvia Plath. She has been my constant companion on sleepless nights. She comforts me by telling me true reality. I find myself time and time again, logging onto Youtube to listen to her read her poems. I recall her voice being powerful. She recites them with such conviction. I fantasize about what it might be like if she were still alive and I got the chance to meet her. I wonder if I would still be as enthralled by her without her claim to suicide. I believe I would be. Reading through her journals- the things that were so very private to her- reveal such intimate detail about who she was. I love her, I think. She is a good friend.<br />
<br />
Anyhow... I fear that I shouldn't sleep a wink tonight. I do enjoy being awake, while the rest of the world is asleep, but my body longs for the rest it requires to function. Maybe just a little shut eye... No? As you wish...<br />
<br />
Wait up, Sylvia... I'm coming!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-35776773698840281812011-02-23T01:34:00.000-08:002011-02-23T01:39:10.906-08:00The Mind<div style="text-align: center;">s e p e s n g t</div><div style="text-align: center;"> l e l s i h</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-26454819189416546702011-02-22T00:29:00.000-08:002011-02-22T00:29:01.232-08:00What Sarah Said...Today in my poetry class we had an assignment where we needed to pick a song and play it for the class. The point was to articulate how sound can be poetical and convey meaning, just like words can. After a few weeks of contemplating what I would play, I decided upon "What Sarah Said" by Death Cab For Cutie. The song is essentially about time and the brevity of it. Or, to be more specific, time in relation to death. (I'll post the lyrics to it at the end of this blog.)<br />
<br />
Anyway- it made me miss my mom. I think I have said that so much lately that it seems to be waring out. And maybe that's a good thing. Maybe if I miss her enough, I will eventually run out of missings. Maybe... <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><strong>"What Sarah Said"<br />
<br />
<!-- start of lyrics --></strong>And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time<br />
As I stared at my shoes in the ICU that reeked of piss and 409<br />
And I rationed my breaths as I said to myself that I'd already taken too much today<br />
As each descending peak on the LCD took you a little farther away from me<br />
Away from me<br />
<br />
Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines in a place where we only say goodbye<br />
It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend on a faulty camera in our minds<br />
But I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose than to have never lain beside at all<br />
And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground as the TV entertained itself<br />
<br />
'Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room<br />
Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news<br />
And then the nurse comes round and everyone will lift their heads<br />
But I'm thinking of what Sarah said that "Love is watching someone die"<br />
<br />
So who's going to watch you die?</div><div style="text-align: center;">So who's going to watch you die?</div><div style="text-align: center;">So who'd going to watch you die?<!-- end of lyrics --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-24149521604952488492011-02-20T12:27:00.001-08:002011-02-20T12:27:32.365-08:00SchoolI feel unproductive in school this semester. I now know that I cannot, for my own sanity, take 12 units ever again. It's like I have no homework and I don't like it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-61146373799880666552011-02-16T00:21:00.000-08:002011-02-16T00:21:58.129-08:00I miss her...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfeugZ7vzmBHkE4zQXATbPyGLkaohEbVbdsM21P9MqxVi9b7iZgpkt00ZdxMos4R-fGZp3p_OYFr9zxZrHG6y1K3e8jTHF5XwQUwDtq3yTgfNaXqzx9oB4KdyHqEY1CFDJ1NqwVY6J8gYI/s1600/7720_1204220739639_1052220065_30624426_1136356_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfeugZ7vzmBHkE4zQXATbPyGLkaohEbVbdsM21P9MqxVi9b7iZgpkt00ZdxMos4R-fGZp3p_OYFr9zxZrHG6y1K3e8jTHF5XwQUwDtq3yTgfNaXqzx9oB4KdyHqEY1CFDJ1NqwVY6J8gYI/s320/7720_1204220739639_1052220065_30624426_1136356_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I miss her more today than usual. I think about the cliche, "Time heals all wounds." and cannot decide whether it is incorrect or not. In a way, time heals the initial hurt of losing someone to death. The shock of death has worn off and you are able to accept it more as time goes on. But I tend to think of it more as, the more days that pass, the farther you are away from the last time you were with that person. It is hard.<br />
<br />
I miss her so much. I truly hate death.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-59957348633782494732011-02-14T13:19:00.000-08:002011-02-14T13:19:42.848-08:00Happy Valentine's Day Everyone...<div style="text-align: center;">"You don't believe a woman could enjoy being free and independent?...Ok. I, like being on my own. I think relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it? We’re young, we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world; might as well have fun while we can and, save the serious stuff for later."</div><div style="text-align: center;">-- <strong><em>(500) Days of Summer</em></strong></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4eHfbe2TS6Zhr8FFCx1ZircVsVuQwmIeFTlS0nPTTqPneYEFcigJms-WY7A55brqyZU4EZncRKlB9ft2jv89wO1dP2eQUdZH8ZfjwEqMjYpNXeNMQ8EHCK4QbBj-w6YroMeXYkHrpUAE/s1600/500-days-of-summer-bench-tom-500x273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4eHfbe2TS6Zhr8FFCx1ZircVsVuQwmIeFTlS0nPTTqPneYEFcigJms-WY7A55brqyZU4EZncRKlB9ft2jv89wO1dP2eQUdZH8ZfjwEqMjYpNXeNMQ8EHCK4QbBj-w6YroMeXYkHrpUAE/s320/500-days-of-summer-bench-tom-500x273.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-21484791967460565072011-02-12T14:57:00.000-08:002011-02-12T17:51:43.693-08:00Better Day...Today has been a better day. Not really "good," but better. I am hoping that the days keep getting better. If not, I just hope that they are atleast this good and productive.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-55176892464795890682011-02-06T16:39:00.001-08:002011-02-06T16:39:36.644-08:00Regrets......are hard to deal with.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-14756648302434570752011-02-04T14:28:00.000-08:002011-02-04T14:28:58.884-08:00Released From The Grip"Finally" is just a boring word. But for the sake of explanation, I will use it. I have finally come out of the slum of sadness that I have been in for the last week. To say I am relieved would be an under statement. I am very thankful to have peace in my heart and mind. I am thankful to be able to get out of bed and get things done. I am thankful to be laughing without it hurting. I am thankful. <br />
<br />
Looking forward to my trip with my Ella Bella Best Friend tomorrow to a "far away" land. EEK! It should be a fun day. We are going to eat at a quaint little diner type place, and possibly do some other things. Just happy to be able to spend a day with a good friend in a place that isn't campus. <br />
<br />
Now back to learning to play the Ukulele... I hope I get the hang of this thing soon!<br />
<br />
Oh... and I may or may not have a stomach issue. Tomorrow I am changing my diet to see if it helps. If not, I'll head to El Doctor-o soon. But here is to hoping that a change of diet can help it!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-81715693794766672852011-02-03T15:57:00.000-08:002011-02-03T15:57:16.718-08:00I hate death.I just got the urge to call my mom. My desire to talk to her is overwhelming. I want to scream... I want to kick and scream. I hate death. I hate death. I hate death.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-74234669588460375742011-02-02T19:40:00.000-08:002011-02-15T15:44:34.127-08:00DrowningCan anyone save me?<br />
<br />
I am drowning fast into a deep lake of troubles. This pain has become so strong that I almost feel numb. I'm lost. I need direction and care. Not judgment and convictions. Each person seems to misunderstand me completely. I need just one person to tell me they know me and love me and mean it forever. Show me you mean it because I am losing hope. I am losing hope in everything. I need to be guided.<br />
<br />
Can anyone save me?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-53071652931080178412011-01-31T23:09:00.000-08:002011-02-02T21:26:54.934-08:00A RiddleI have been recruited to play The Game. What clever strategy is needed when playing such a sport. The game is quite tricky. Like any game, you play to win. But there is a twist as the game progresses. If you win the game, you lose, and if you lose the game, you lose. Your opponent resembles a familiar face and is a grand competition; they are constantly warring against you. The Game is appealing in many ways because there are rewards when you reach each new level, but also penalties as you do the same. Those who play rarely end in a good state, but they become so competitive and determined that they do not mind the set backs- they only push on to win The Game that cannot be won. <br />
<br />
When a letter is sent to draft you as a player, you must make a decision. Ultimately, you need to ask yourself, is The Game worth all of the strife? Is The Game worth your very life?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-85257322689256861102011-01-30T16:27:00.000-08:002011-01-30T19:56:38.807-08:00Becoming More HumanThe most vulnerable moments- the times when you show the very deepest of your soul to someone, is when you can conclude who you do and do not feel safe with. To let every wall crash down to a million concrete pieces, when you, with the little strength you have, can choose to keep up even a little of it as a protecting prison, is a rare and beautiful moment. There is nothing standing between your heart and your confidant's- only a pure stream of truth flows peacefully on. To feel safe with someone is a rarity, but when the safety is established, you are changed, just a little, into something more human than the robot you have been known to be.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-52241482419052100392011-01-30T12:15:00.000-08:002011-01-30T12:15:44.749-08:00Week of HappinessI hate the bad things in life. <br />
<br />
My recent hatred is formed from the hatred of memory loss, as in, when people get short term memory loss, or Alzheimer's or something. It is such a terrible disability. I wish I could cure it... The person who has it isn't aware of it, but those around them are, and it makes things very difficult emotionally and situationally. <br />
<br />
I want a week of happiness.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-45531842188192872002011-01-28T18:52:00.000-08:002011-01-28T18:52:20.915-08:00CountdownI turn 21 in 438 days.<br />
<br />
To say "I cannot wait!" would be limiting the expression of my anticipation! <br />
<br />
Needless to say, I am very very enthusiastic about turning 21... : )Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-63510084319299789752011-01-28T12:40:00.001-08:002011-01-28T12:40:44.440-08:00Car...Best news all day:<br />
<br />
I GET TO KEEP MY CAR AT SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
I am so surprised and so happy! This means many things! : )Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1554959976235840122.post-66396686082575478792011-01-27T18:57:00.000-08:002011-01-27T21:07:37.595-08:00Learned again today that...Change is good. : )Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0