November 29, 2006

i wish that when we spoke we were free to make words just as beautiful as when we write them. i want conversations to have a form, whether it be careful and aesthetic or ragged and tough. i want to think of a design when people are speaking to me.

rip it apart.

all of these ideals i have held on to so stubbornly. i dont know whether it is God telling me to loosen my grip or it is him asking me to find out whether they really matter so much to me or not. but why are they engraved upon my mind? i cant erase them. id have to fill them up with something else, and the options arent so appealing. i dont know. i dont want to hold out for the impossible, but i dont want to just let things become careless and meaningless. what is there to hope for? ive nearly had it and nearly lost it all at once.

why do i expect so much out of everyone and myself?

realizing over and over how easier it would be to simply not care.

people tell me who i am. a strong person. steadfast. passionate. where is it taking me? i need a rest. i need to hold my weaknesses and get to know them. i need to tell you what they are.

i need forgiveness.

i need to ask.

i’m sick of these halfways. getting away with things without even trying. using idealism as an excuse for not trying at all, if it cant be perfect. i dont want to be remembered as the friend who always had something funny or clever to say. in the end that is trash. i want quietness to be meaningful. words consume me too much already. i want to be a person who helps people be the way they should be, or the way they are late at night when no one is looking. i dont want to be a meaningless parody or a halfhearted paraphrase. please, please know me. and let me know you.

i want to find ways to show christ through things that look to be plain or useless.


November 29, 2006

stairwell accompaniment:Augustana

I survived the southern Thanksgiving. Barely. But not at all due to roadkill delicatessens(not a fried possum to be found!) or the grossly underestimated amount of tractors and hunting camo encountered (yes, they wear it to church, amen). More or less due to the stomach ulcer I inadvertently invited along which could be loosely related to the fact that a 91% is a B in the land of nursing school. Ulcer. Let me just clarify: there is Alabama and then there is The Emergency Room In Alabama. Two equally foreign but completely varied experiences not all get to enjoy in a lifetime. I, however, am JUST THAT privileged.

Much Risk was played, many walks taken, naps enjoyed, tractors traveled on, warmth basked in, family was met…and made…

I am home now recovering (from finals, the camo and the ulcer) with Grey’s Anatomy reruns, clear fluids, good books and my very, very adorable, southern husband.

November 22, 2006

stairwell accompaniment:Snow Patrol

to Alabama for the holiday. where they have yet to invent computers, ya’ll.

November 19, 2006

stairwell accompaniment:Damien Rice

respite: finals week

November 18, 2006

Dostoyevsky once wrote, “Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams. Love in dreams is greedy for immediate action, rapidly preformed and in the sight of all.”