Saturday, May 8, 2010

away from the sun

The aimless wanderings of a soul turned black, searching desperately for a calm he's never known. The quiet, the silence, the emptiness of her heart, beating in slow constant rhythm with the ticking of the clock. Time, time, time. Gone, gone, gone. Maybe they're hoping for meaning by the end of the journey. Maybe purpose will appear the longer they cross their fingers and the harder they close their eyes. Blurs of colour, orange on black and black on green, emotions run wild until they are lost for good.

Beyond what the eye can see, out of reach from anything that tried to hold it back. Yet all that remains is a blank darkness echoing off the walls of its own isolation. Silence is golden except when it grows and grows until there is no more room for anything else. Then the little people find themselves no longer capable of dancing, searching or hoping. Illusion is reality and there appears a strange confusion in discussing anything related to the future or what is to come.

There is no future because dreams are stagnant and there is not enough motivation to inspire change. Instead the children cry for no one to hear, and the infants die with no one to hold them. All dressed up in the fancy clothes evidencing the guilt of abandonment are the tiny bodies who had no one fighting for their last breath. Nor was there anyone to hold the little girls hand as the money was exchanged and her body would never again be her own. When they tore the boy away from his family, gave him a gun and taught him to kill, there was no one to tell him he was never destined to be a killer.

People, people everywhere, in every part of the world where the darkness has gathered and begun closing in on itself. And yet there is no one to bridge the gap, to stand in the middle and condemn what never should have been. The words, the thoughts, the ideas that never turned to actions lay fallen on the edge of a long, long road. Its end cannot be seen but it doesn't need to be. The whole world knows where its been and where it is going.

Someday the light at the end of the tunnel will flicker back to life. Someday the black will turn to gold and reflections of what should always have been will filter back into what is. In that day it will not matter whether you were broken or poor, whole or wealthy. It might even be enough on that day simply to be, with enough hope to envision what you could become.

But that day is not today. That day is distant and clouded to the point that it could only be reawakened when hearts are ready to call it into existence. So meanwhile we wait, with every advancing second heralding the approach of what is all too familiar and altogether dreaded. The tears will continue to trace streaks down crumpled faces and the only reason to stop screaming will be because the lungs are no longer filled with air and the heart is no longer keeping rhythm for a broken existence. Then all the fighting will stop because there never was anything to fight for.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

certain words in uncertain times

I write.
Not because I want people to read.
And not because I have important things to say.

I write because I feel things.
Maybe it's more symbolic than anything. But if I wrote in tiny letters in my green book that's all they would ever be– tiny letters. At least if I have the option to publish this I can be sure that I'm part of something bigger, and maybe even something worth being a part of.

Shhhhh. Don't let on. But sometimes there are just so many words, words. And even if, when placed end to end, the words don't make sense together, at least they were spoken so they can be heard. At least they were written so they can be read. If we never tried, they would never have the option of going on forever and ever.

Sometimes it's easier to deal in the abstract than in the concrete.
The abstract doesn't make me cry.

I have been doing a lot of that over the last couple days. I think if I was crying for me, it would be that much easier to talk myself out of it. But it's the names, the faces, the lives that I know about and read about and hurt for that I can't fix.

I hate brokenness.
I hate apathy.
I hate emotions.
The ones that are deep inside you that you can't even use a colour to describe because it's black, it's all black and dirty and the only way to get rid of it is to cry and make it hurt somewhere else. Or to let it go.

I can't let it go.

If I let go it feels like I don't care anymore. If it's no longer hurting inside it's like it never mattered or I've given up. Does it feel any different when you've let go because you've released it into greater hands? Is it supposed to feel empty and flat or empty and renewed?

I don't know what it means to move on. One of the hardest things about being alive is finding the motivation to do it. Sometimes there are things that make me excited about life. But thoughts and moments are not enough to survive a whole lifetime on.

You know what I want more than anything right now? I want to be up high. High in a plane or on top of a mountain or anywhere that is up high enough for me to look down and see how tiny the world is. The little houses, the little cars and all the lights, blinking moving and always in a hurry to be there and to get it done. Always. So I want to be far away from it to get the proper perspective of how small it really is. I get people sick. If I was honest, I have those moments where it's much too difficult to be around people because I don't want to feel what they feel and I get so tired of trying to make it right when I know I can't.

But from far away you can't see those things. You can't see the colours of how people feel or what they do about it. It's just small and manageable and maybe even under control. I don't want to stand in the middle of it; I don't want the houses to be life size and I don't want to be small enough to fit inside the cars. Because within the four walls, amidst the joy and laughter, is always more hurt and anger and sorrow than people know what to do with. And the destinations that those cars map out for themselves are long lonely drives to temporal reality.

Please be real. Real enough to make it stop hurting, even if it's not going to go away. But maybe if there was enough truth and honesty the words would stop being so abstract and the feelings would disappear. Names. Faces. Lives. It doesn't work to be goal-oriented when there's nothing to be done.

Fix it. I know you can do it.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

once again here we are

this is so weird.
i feel like i'm twelve.

the last time i wrote a blog entry was xanga, back when i was into pouring my heart out online. i didn't capitalize then, and i guess i still don't. there needs to not be little squiggly red lines under all my words. i know the 'i' should be big.

this is the last day of spring break. technically it goes till tuesday, i guess, there is just a random first day of school nonsense they drop on us on monday. oh oh guess what, i don't have monday classes! unless i get into the one i'm crashing, then i will, but until then. i'm looking forward to going back to school. if i had to choose i think i'd rather be stressed out and productive than relaxed and aimless. i live life by to do lists. i don't think they're confining, i think they provide structure where otherwise there wouldn't be any. and during break i don't accomplish things because i don't have to, and there is nothing to check off.

i lie.

i bought plane tickets for china this week. and i went hiking with my daddy. we do it every break, and he always finds new places for us to go. i finished the flier for Crusade's Good Friday Service. i spent good quality time with 小三, because God knew we needed it. i also bought books for next quarter and worked out my schedule. and i went running a lot because that is the best thing to do when nothing is really happening. it makes things move faster.

for the rest, i joined team lazy.

tomorrow jake and i will suffer through five hours of flat plains, smelly cow farms and a windshield full of bug guts. but it will be okay because we will listen to good music and talk a lot, like we do. and then i will be back at school and i will get to see my roommates.

can't wait. :)