Monday, August 29, 2011
I am.
I am no one. I am a wisher, a dreamer. I am a realist. I am selfish. I am a sinner. I am striving to be a better person. I am a believer in people. I am a believer in God's love. I am not who I always thought I was. I am confident; I am confident because I know my failures and my achievements, my faults and strengths. I know that they are both invaluable to who I am. I am working on being humble. I am working on being who God wants me to be. I am learning. I am asking. I am hoping. I am waiting. I am doing my best. I am happy. I am blessed. I am a child of God.
I am loved.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
But I never said a word.
LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of lust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.
A guest, I answer'd, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
I cannot look on Thee.
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?
Truth, Lord; but I have marr'd them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, 'Who bore the blame?
My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat.
So I did sit and eat.
Guilty of lust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.
A guest, I answer'd, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
I cannot look on Thee.
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?
Truth, Lord; but I have marr'd them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, 'Who bore the blame?
My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat.
So I did sit and eat.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Katie Dreager : a tribute
This is my lovely birthday present from the one and only, Sophie Murdoch. Love you girl!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Beautiful Madness
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”
- Jack Kerouac
Sometimes I agree. Usually I am the yawner saying commonplace things, and I like other people who yawn with me. But deep inside me there is the blue centerlight, desiring sometimes to pop and make everybody go 'awww'.
I wait for inspiration. In this ever endless pursuit there is something small yet so valuable that can be lost, forgotten. It is the reason that the pursuit was started int the first place. I desire inspiration to be "mad", to live with with a passion that burns out of control. I wait patiently. The things that used to make me laugh and smile with delight, the things that used to make me weep with true joy, the things that used to move my soul; where are they? Why do these emotions and words bounce off my bones like dull rocks. I desire so badly for them to crack or at least make a dent. The truth that used to shake me with realization, now feels like dirty bath water filling an empty shell.. So I wait. Wait for the inspiration to come. The inspiration to make me want to be mad and shine again like that centerlight. But I cannot forget the reason I want this so badly. I wait but not in vain. I shake this feeling and rinse it off with clean water. Maybe the pursuit of inspiration will turn out to be the inspiration itself.
- Jack Kerouac
Sometimes I agree. Usually I am the yawner saying commonplace things, and I like other people who yawn with me. But deep inside me there is the blue centerlight, desiring sometimes to pop and make everybody go 'awww'.
I wait for inspiration. In this ever endless pursuit there is something small yet so valuable that can be lost, forgotten. It is the reason that the pursuit was started int the first place. I desire inspiration to be "mad", to live with with a passion that burns out of control. I wait patiently. The things that used to make me laugh and smile with delight, the things that used to make me weep with true joy, the things that used to move my soul; where are they? Why do these emotions and words bounce off my bones like dull rocks. I desire so badly for them to crack or at least make a dent. The truth that used to shake me with realization, now feels like dirty bath water filling an empty shell.. So I wait. Wait for the inspiration to come. The inspiration to make me want to be mad and shine again like that centerlight. But I cannot forget the reason I want this so badly. I wait but not in vain. I shake this feeling and rinse it off with clean water. Maybe the pursuit of inspiration will turn out to be the inspiration itself.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
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