jewel jewel i love jewel
jewel is cool
jewel jewel jewel
good good
mm...pinkk..
and all these shiny pens for exams..
DONE !
almost
laallalala...
skeh. he's at his SECOND prom.
"big shoes to fill huh? BAHAHAHA"
...
sooo gingerale. yarm.
definately a guitar sitting in that chair. okay...
"remember the time you drove all night just to meet me in the morning?.."
ooohhh bright eyes...thank you for being on file share.
and i'm not blowing you off if i say i'm busy.
unless i am blowing you off.
FUSCHIA GO AWAY
so, butterfly on me.
annnd supposedly modest, suspiciously awkward...
shorts.
i.
me.
you.
sleep. sleep sleep time to sleep.
lightbulb yellow light
glimpse
good night <3

I kind of like you.

you end reality for me just like i've always wanted. i don't always understand how your smile seems to contain the world; i'm jealous of your smiles you know, just like God is jealous of us, i don't want anyone else to have them but me. i don't need music anymore - listen to you, i've never heard anything so beautiful. sometimes i stop thinking about it all and am just quiet in you. and summer..or fall...it doesn't really matter or even exist anymore, not near you.

i am happy in our black and white world. everything is calmer here, i don't hide terrors in me anymore. my nightmares don't flourish in marvelous artwork as much now. but there is the matter of time - a thing that doesn't really exist. i don't like things i can't control, you know that about me; you were the only exception for that. but it's just at the moment when we are where we want to be, and all enveloped i find a tender pain in it. i'm wrapped in the drapes by the moody lampshade and you're still asleep; oh you are beautiful, more so when you're very near me and very far from me and all the places inbetween. the dawn is almost breaking and my burning happiness is touched with something very cold - the passing of it; it is being blown away and i can do nothing about it. i can only have you as long as you are here. i am indignant as i forget i am human. knuckles clenched to white...shut your eyes tightly and try very very hard, like when you were little and wanted to wake from a dream...there must be a way out of the world, out of time.

i am drawn up, dried up and pressed; the gold spills onto my grey matter.
the end of what we know is the beginning of its permanence, its fixedness. but that doesn't fit in my head yet. hot tears of fury streak my face as you sleep, so peaceful, my beautiful one...it hurts, because it won't last - everything is fleeting. just when i feel the human flesh against mine, i turn my watery eyes to their graves and see the impossibility of it. because we're greedy creatures and now is not enough - we want forever.

i want you forever.

forever has already begun, so maybe there is no end to this...

click.

I'm locked inside this stone tower of song, and I
I'm trying to write messages on the window baby, God I just want to belong

Choose me
Choose me
Pick me, take me, oh I need to believe
Oh, no one else exists for you now, and
No one else exists for me
Oh, you are my home, and I have
Finally found my way
To where you are.

- Where You Are, Jewel

I’m lying face down in dirt but there’s no scent of defeat. I always thought failure would look something like this but that seems to have been a misunderstanding of success; this soil is nothing short of rich, and I don’t mind it underneath my fingernails.I should be distressed – and I was sure I would be; but I can’t fight this feeling of anticipation, and oddly enough a seemingly inappropriate feeling for the moment – carefree; taken care of. Like a small child in a car seat gazing out the window with wide starry eyes, plump with fulfillment, wet pink lips parted, unquestioning and ignorant of the breakneck speed of the vehicle he’s in; but I’m not ignorant of the danger, so I thought I’d never feel like this.

It feels somewhat out of place, like when you’re waking up and you think its yesterday. Things look a lot different up here. But the sound of my name being scratched off of so many lists can’t seem to drown out the cascading symphony of deliverance. And I can’t find a place for my foot to stand but I won’t think of what’s not underneath my steps, I just can’t wait; can’t wait to know where You’ll take me next, what You know that I don’t and never could. My hope builds with every crumbling skyscraper from my old world. Either I’ve acquired a taste for danger, or I’m trusting.

People say I just need to hold Your hands, but I think I just need to look at them; when I look at mine hope sputters and dies, but Yours awaken inclinations intended at creation and hold unknown possibilities.

it was familiar to me
the smoke too thick to breathe
the tile floors glistened
i slowly stirred my drink
and when you started to sing
you spoke with broken speech
that i could not understand
and then you grabbed me tightly

i wont let go
i wont let go
even if you say so
oh no
i've tried and tried with no results
i wont let go
i wont let go

he then played every song from 1993
the crowd applauded as he curtsied bashfully
your eyelashes tickled my neck
with every nervous blink
and it was perfect
until the telephone started
ringing ringing ringing ringing ringing off

- The Dreams of Evan and Chan, by The Postal Service

leave me down here, bleeding slow; oozing thoughts and murmuring low. breathing like it's all i know. my jaw hard against tile floor and hands cold from the loud encore; i know i've thought of you before. encircling the kitchen lights with memories from moments past that immediately flicker but brightly last and cast the shadow behind my eyes, wherein you will find the lullabies that keep my heart still and me alive. leave me down here, it is familiar, the dim reflection in the hallway mirror; it is familiar to me, this mobile of softly coloured hues that turn and sing me, sing me to sleep...

"Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy?" - Isaiah 55:1-2a

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a woman - a mother - in a kitchen, at a cutting board, asking in her heart for grace for the day from a Holy One, omnipotent but humanly distant. a teenage girl crying on her mother's shoulder because she can't yet understand this Love she's been brought up hearing about. an old man cradling his head in his palms, catching tears of remorse for the things he has not been to his children. an elderly woman in a nightgown with frills, holding up her fingers to Heaven, her heart beating as passionately as when she was young, smiling with a holy countenance at this friendly Reaper, sent to fly her home; her family members the next day gazing blindly with their watery vision into her grave in the soil. a heart surging with joy and comfort in a pew in the morning but returning home feeling dull and restless again. a young man lying in a hospital bed, the immensity of what his heart is being flooded with bringing tears to his eyes, his eyes that might have seen the world a little longer in the naivety and blithe ignorance of a boy his age.

these glimpses of heaven here on earth. the spiritual world used to feel like pins in a pin cushion, stuck in, protruding, and just not adhering to reality. now life feels like a small complex tapestry with tears revealing the magnificent and enormous wall on which it is hung.

tears - the times when you realize what's permanent. what will fade away and what will last. when death and eternity seem no further than the period at the end of a sentence or the end of a song, inevitable and resolute. when life here is realized for what it is, only half of the story and much less indomitable than we see it. when suddenly you feel like you are on your toes teetering on the cliff of all things known.

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for some people, I think growing old is no more than losing the romantic padding of physical beauty that softens the impact of the person him/herself .

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"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget,
I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;" - Isaiah 49:15-16