A Man Named Death

December 10, 2013

Tuesday 

10:57PM

The pangs of the piano 

beat softly and subtly into the quiet chambers 

of her aching heart...

Her fingers danced along its slender keys and begged for refuge in its quiet melody.

Another day went by without him.

Another night alone in her big bed.

Another dreamless night of sulking nightmares and drenching feelings, all tucked secretly away in her small quiet music box. 

Scaly fingers trace the outline of the swirling letters written on scratchy paper, pillowing tears and words she'll never hear again.

Her head rests gently on the desk, but she's fast asleep for once tonight. 

No regrets will pillage her thoughts tonight; one night of real rest is finally granted.

She was never supposed to love him. 

He was never supposed to be her match. 

We all make mistakes sometimes, but mine costed me an eternity of regret. 

My name is Death and regret is not a feeling I have ever felt, until the night I took her lover in the cold. 

His name, I will not grant to you, seeing it is a name I now and eternally will fear and regret as long I dwell in life. 

Memories swam through the dark and quickly she remembered what the first time they met looked and felt like:

The snow was flurrying, the shops were glowing and somehow she found herself amidst a sea of strangers and unhappy faces unwilling to reach a hand to her. 

Tears were welling up, but did so in vain. 

A man, a tall and dark haired man, made his way towards her and offered out his hand. 

That was where I made my first mistake.

The cancer had just begun its work, but it wasn't moving fast enough to stop this meeting never destined to be.  

They talked and laughed and soon fell in love. 

Deep, deep love that could never be severed no matter how hard I tried. 

I took her mother, his father and a younger brother too, but still their love remained. 

His cancer soon grew stronger, but their love did just the same. 

They loved and loved and held to each other far tighter than I ever feared they would. 

The prayers she said couldn't be ignored either, but I tried to push them out. 

Her pleas. 

Her sobs. 

Her silent selflessness.

They all were building regrets. 

Finally, the night had come to take his soul, the man she'd grown to love far stronger than I'd ever seen before. 

He held her hand as tight as he could, but she held his much tighter. 

She tried to stop me. 

She begged and begged to stop this dreadful thing from coming and willed herself to gable. 

Between the streaming tears she cried, "Take me! Take me instead! A life without my love, even a life of eternity will be nothing to me now! Please...please..."

It was in that moment I took his soul, but it came much easier than I anticipated. 

He greeted with a smile for me and kiss for her and left as an unlikely friend. 

That was when the feeling came. 

The feeling I had messed things up. 

I tempered with life and now life would get back at me and this poor woman by forcing us to mourn for eternity until they were once again reunited. 

Her breathes were slowing now, as they always did when their hair spun silver and snow. 

Her hands clutched the music box he made for her many, many years ago and breathed its final melody of love and then without a moment hesitation, I took her soul at last. 

She came so easy, I barely breathed 'hello' and then she was off to her dear love awaiting her. 

They hugged and cried and smiled widely, making each other whole again. 

Suddenly, in that moment of reunion, a new and strange feeling awoke inside me for the first time. 

Another feeling these lovers had provoked. 

It felt...warm and friendly. 

A dreadful feeling to a man named Death, but strangely, I found it cleansing. 

This feeling made me new. 

I cried my first tears ever before,

Quickly walked away and never looked back again. 

(k.b.)

http://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/b/the-book-thief/book-summary

What If I Deserved You?

December 5, 2013

9:46PM

Thursday

Something always brings me back to you.
I'm trapped inside your gravity, with no hope of escape.
Your eyes were never supposed to be beautiful.
I learned to love them unwillingly.
You held me closer than I ever dared imagine and somehow I did too.
I can't seem to let you go, but I tell myself I have to.
The flush, the fluster you caused inside me;
It's always a battle in my heart.
The question always haunting:
Do I want you?
Do I need you?
Your eyes, again, they pierce;
Cutting to my very soul.
There is no end to you.
Though I scarcely hope for things of you, then later curse myself in tears.
The tears were always for the weak;
Yet, here they come unceasingly.
 I never should have met you.
I wish the past was past.
If there was ever a moment I didn't think of you, I'd bravely take it back.
I never did deserve you, or so I had been told.
The worst of the pain was never from your heart, but from my own.
My walls were higher than a simple climb, yet you broke them down with gentle ease.
How I wish to kiss you, but then again--I don't.
I can't.
It would be agony to ever see your face again.
Or feel you hands around me.
Your smile is nothing but a weakness to me now.
I watch the snow in silence.
I pray to the one who will always listen.
The moon cries along with me, aching almost as much I do.
They say that love was for the happy;
Then why do I find myself in pain?
The mirror always haunts me.
The memories scar the walls.
Is this what real love is?
I refuse to ever know.
We all have White Demons we must face;
 I never thought mine would be in you.
From first glances to melting hearts, I pray to let you go.
If I could ever deserve you, I would.
The very thought of you sets my heart in a rage of broken shapes.
A melody of monotony is all thats settles in the end.
Why did you have to be so wonderful?
Without your warmth, I could be alone.
I would have nothing to get over or leave forgotten.
Deep inside my heart I know I'll always want you.
I don't want to;
But I will.
My strength is failing.
You're coming to me now.
If I could ever find the words, I'd say them loudly in your ear.
I'd smile to your eyes, withdraw the truth and leave without a tear.
But you smile, damaging my heavily laden armor to practically nothing.
You whisper words I never knew I ached to hear until I did.
You're song is all that I can hear inside my heart.
The tears begin to fall, more readily this time.
You keep my secrets all to die.
The promises you make:
To never hurt me.
Never leave me.
I try to push them out, but I know that they are true.
Why I try to hide, I'll never know.
My heart is not a toy.
My feelings are too fragile.
I portray the role of strength, but find I have none left.
My eyes now trace along the floor.
You lift my chin in breathless agony.
Those eyes--they pierce.
They melt and crush and curse and smile.
They laugh at my pain, yet cry inside my heart.
They'll always be a ghost to me.
They used to find me in my dreams.
Eyes that wanted me.
But now, I'm not so sure.
I was never sure of anything.
I never let myself be free.
Sweet freedom is all I want.
To find a way to love and not be angry.
To sleep and not be lonely.
To watch and disagree happily.
If I could let myself love you, I know I would be happy.
The truth is staring down my face.
It's you.
It was always you.
I let you in at long awaited last.
Sweet freedom is all I taste.
Your kiss, your lips;
 Your very soul.
You've made me free at last.

(k.b.)

The Thief of Time

Scattered things along the table:

An old withered globe of lands long forgotten.  

Scattered sheets of instructive paper.

A bag of half eaten blueberries that were always her favorite.

Pencils dropped and itching for a good draw or long write.

The lamp is burning, but does so happily. 

A crumbled paper that whispers "ALL ALONE IN THIS"

A firm twisted holiday ribbon cries itself to sleep, for the lack thereof of attention.

Two old cards, blank and forgotten. 

The phone is flipped over, though she knows she has a message waiting for her on the other side.

She wonders what they are for, the letters I mean.

The keys are hard to type with, though they make her happy. 

The way they "click click" and "stick" bring her joy.

Her eyes wander about the room in search for something to write about. 

The window is always  a good place to start. 

Then again, so is the slightly ajar closet that screeches for attention.

The door is also open, though it strikes no interest in her. 

Small voices travel through the room in a gentle hum. 

Sometimes, she silently cries, but always finds her comfort in this room.

A precious movie ticket sleeps in her pocket.

Her leg is always falling asleep.

And now she has to leave.

A stack of books threaten to tempt her, to consume her and to lull her to sleep in a gentle rush. 

She comes back. 

The dog's asleep, as she wishes she someday could be.

The lights are hushed.

The house is still.

She caught the bright stars tonight, and wished that she could see them.

This love affair between them was never going to last.

But she wished it could.

The music slumbers 'til the sunrise.

She cries herself to sleep.

The bed is stuffy, choking her in mid-dream.

The dream catcher has failed her as of late and she desperately wishes it wouldn't.

She kicks, claws and wills herself to cry.

The tears never come.

The alarm clock stays silent.

Her clouds are slipping now.

The books upon her self are dusting, begging for release.

A long forgotten sketch book, some paints and old journal rest on top the basket.

She aches for solitude.

The woods are calling her, but not loud enough to tempt her.

The Autumn had deceived her.

She misses her old dreams.

To run. 

To climb.

To sing a dreadful song.

Her memories now are failing her, she rushes in the dark.

A man, her lover, waits for her.

She knows he isn't far.

The eyes. 

The lips.

Her very soul.

He wants to keep her close.

She cries again, and leaves him lost.

They quest their separate ways.

The swirling steam of on old rusty train brings hope and faith at last.

New life, more purpose is what calls her name again.

An old wooden desk, worn from ache and sorrow, remains her only friend.

The paper, the pen, the withered globe are always there to stay.

They greet with smiles, though they mean no harm.

Her eyes will wander once again.

The window is shut.

The curtains are drawn.

She's gone her separate way.

Another tear she wipes away.

Another friend she makes in words, for she knows they will never betray her.

Her dear sister laughs a sweet laugh from the corner.

She runs her fingers through her hair.

Two dolls, alone but not forgotten, sleep and slumber in utter bliss.

The lamp still burns, most happily.

The dust still dances on the keys, sticking to her words.

The books.

The clock.

Forgotten things.

She finds her way again.

(k.b.)

November 30th, 2013

Friday Night at 10:40PM

On a night full of bright stars she wished 

she could watch. 

  

White Demon

November 23, 2013

10:09PM

And then he was gone.

Just like that.

His cold amber eyes haunted every dream I ever had now and threatened to consume my soul entirely.

I imagined a cold, gripping hand collapsed around my heart and felt its pressure increasing the more I thought of him and his lying eyes I once learned to trust.

But I couldn’t help it.

He made me love him.

Its taken me a lifetime to realize I truly have no say in what my heart wants to feel and what it wishes to do.

I am merely a body for a soul.

A burden for the beast.

A hunt in the kill of my entire being.

It pays a debt to live inside me though, with breaths and lungs and blood flowing through my stretching veins.

But I paid a debt in return to it as well; I gave it my whole soul and every feeling I ever had before I even learned what love was.

It tricked me.

It always pulled the rug before my feet could even tap its fragile patterns.

Would I ever find peace?

Is there no way to love without a consuming debt that feeds the pain but starves the heart?

An ocean of tears and I know it isn’t so.

True love has never existed in my life, and never will unless I learn to let it go.

Like a drifting balloon against a concrete sky, I will prevail.

Afterall, I am the master of my fate.

I am the creator of my own catastrophe.

I am a sinking ship that has no odds of surviving without the help of the White Demon, of which we all fall in love with.

His captivating hands will leave me breathless and eventually salvage my dying soul.

Someday he will set me free.

Someday I will trade my heart for him and then be happy.

Someday,

White Demon.

Someday White Demon.

(k.b.)

Carpe Diem "Sieze The DAY!"

Two words: Carpe Diem.
What do they mean?
"Sieze the day."
What does that mean?
Well, I don't know. I simply know what it means to me.
Carpe Diem is a motto of freedom, but it is one that you must learn for yourself.
Like 'Todd' we must all learn to find our voice. For some, we are like 'Neil" and we already have our voice. But for me, I am much like a Todd. Why?
Because I am afraid. I fear that which I do not know. I fear defeat. And I fear to fail.
Someone once taught me that in order to truly succeed in life, you must first fail.
Here's what I've found out about that philosophy: Two things:
1. If you are to first fail in order to then succeed, then you must first attain bravery.
2. After you have attained bravery, you must then learn to find yourself.
So really, if you think about it, the motto isn't to first fail then success will follow. NO! The motto is actually no motto at all, but a choice. FIRST you must choose courage. Ridiculous, insane and positively fatuous courage that is humiliating, but also advantageous. Then, once you find your courage, you realize you cannot find yourself next because once you found your courage, you already found yourself.
SIMPLIFY:
There is no motto. Failure does not bring success. Courage within yourself is yourself.
Carpe Diem.
Sieze the day!
What does that even mean now?
Well, I'll tell you it means courage is what reveals yourself and yourself is whoever you want it to be.
Be fatuous.
Be ridiculous.
Be sophisticated.
Be spontaneous.
Be absolutely, unreservedly, and utterly courageous.
Remember: Your courage is yourself.
Carpe Diem.
Sieze the day.
You may spend a million lifetimes telling yourself you'll "seize the day" another day.
Seizing the day happens this day.
You sieze the day now, or spend a lifetime wondering how it would have been if only you did.
CARPE DIEM.
Seize The Day.
(And that day is today!!)

(k.b.)

2:44AM
November 23, 2013
SAT (FRI)

The Lion and the Roar

October 31, 2013

5:58PM

Thursday

I felt him coming. 

His rhythmic breathing echoed in my head. 

I tried to call out--but my voice was drifting away. 

"Stay back!" I tried to say, but it never came out. 

I felt so helpless and pathetic.

The moment of my deepest fear was approaching and there was nothing I could do about it.

Not one thing. 

And then, suddenly he was already here--right in-front of my shaking eyes. 

His golden sunset eyes bore into mine, devouring every inch of me. 

The cold breaths from a long run were slapping against my cheeks and nose, but I paid no mind to it. 

The only thing soaring through my head right now were questions and escape routes. 

Through my flowing blood I felt the weight of fear pumping through it, until the coldness overbore me. 

After an endless moment of heavy breathing, it finally ceased to a quiet, slumberous purr. 

I was surprise to find I wasn't shaking anymore, but peacefully sat their in calm anticipation for what this beast was planning to do with me. 

But this beast gave no room for ferreting his deep and cavernous plans. 

This beast could very well kill me on the very grave of my fading redemption. 

He could slaughter all my memories; devour every dream I ever had; and pilfer anything else that was vulnerable within me. 

But he didn't. 

He merely stared into my eyes and let his breaths rise and fall against mine. 

Then it was my turn to scrutinize his face--from his wispy whiskers tickling the pillows of my cheeks, to his thick, cascading main falling in golden-yellow tufts. 

It wasn't then that I felt brave--not just yet. 

No, the emotions coursing through my veins were anything but brave right now.

But then he did something that made me find my courage. 
He looked me in the eyes and then--He roared. 

And without warning too. 

And as his thunderous roar reached the limit of the sky, I roared too. 

I roared until I felt braver than this beast--this monster. 

And this monster I speak of, was not he golden Lion roaring to my right. 

No. 

This monster was the one inside of me, the one that died the moment I bellowed my roar louder than that Lion.

And louder than my fear. 

(k.b)

"Nostalgia"

But in the middle of my happiness i realized

that all those nostalgic moments from my past were no longer there

that the little girl who once loved to dream 

and dance 

and release her wild imagination

no longer existed.

The little girl who spent too much time in the sun

The little girl who chased dragons

and hunted fairies

and the little girl who fiercly imagined things she knew in her heart to be real

was no longer real.

No longer alive.

And there was nothing i could do to change that

no matter how much i wanted to

But deeply inserted within my aching heart

there lied a wish.

A small, but passionate wish

that i could be that little girl again.

I wished so desperately

so fiercely

that my life could somehow go back to a life

where magic and remarkable adventures filled the brief hours of the sun

That i could waste away the day

pretending to fly

and running fast enough to make my

tiny heart pound against my chest

all because i wanted to

I wished for a place

and time that  no longer belonged to me

But at a moment in my deep thinking

my wishing

turned to dreaming

Dreams that could cloud my past

and change my future 

 and come

and never leave 

And  it was then 

i knew that dreams

weren't always out of reach

At-least

not anymore.

(k.b)

Written:

October 13, 2013

 One rainy 

Sunday Afternoon

Finished:

2:54PM

A "Curiouser and Curiouser" Letter

Recently I wrote a letter to my sister Sarah (who is serving an LDS mission) that turned out to be SEVEN PAGES LONG. Yeah...talk about a rather long and endless letter, but I must admit it contained something of great importance to me. Within the swirly, untidy sprawls of my pencil marks against the simply lined letter was a list. A list of myself.  Now I know what you are thinking: "Why in the world would a list about yourself have any significance what so ever?" But to put you at ease, the list had nothing really to do with informing my sister about myself, but had everything to do with proving a solid point to myself-- the point being to teach myself to love every detail about myself no matter how hard it may be.

You see I came across a passage online with an unknown author that really struck a cord in me. For days its words swirled inside my head and tormented me to confusion. It formed a question inside my head that I either refused to answer-- or was too frightened to. The question that plagued my mind was, in its simplest form: "Who am I really?"
It may sound cliché but the intensity of that question beat into my soul over and over and over agian. And the more I thought about it, the less I could answer it. Who was I, really? Surely I knew! But the more I asked the less I knew!

Upon one night when I no longer could avoid this haunting question I found myself slumped in front of my dusty mirror replaying the mysterious words from that online passage:

"who are you 

really?

you are not a  name

or a height, or weight

or a gender

you are not where you 

are from

you are your favorite books

and the songs stuck in your head

you are your thoughts

and what you eat for breakfast

on saturday mornings

you are a thousand things

but everyone chooses 

to see the million things

you are not

you are not

where you are from

you are

 where you are going

and i'd  like

to go there

 too.

(m.k)"

Probably not what you expected, huh? Yet there they were screaming in my head clear as day but as unnerving as the night. Tears streamed down my face until these words took full affect upon my heart and finally took hold of my brain. I could no longer ignore that treacherous question that faced me now of who I truly was.  It was then and only then that I had to make a decision of who I was and what I wanted to be. 

Suddenly it was in those solemn tears that I made a deep, indestructible promise--a vow if you will--that I would put forth every effort to become the person I and God wanted to be. I would spend every day learning to admire the faults, quirks, talents, pet-peeves, and details that made me, well, me! 

And so the first thing I could think to do was write a list; and a list i wrote from A-Z of all the smallest insignificant details about myself (well no longer insignificant to me). And the list was filled and made and it only awaitied to be sent, read, and dwelled. 

Read it if you will, but know that this is a historic moment for me! It may be hard to believe at times, but it is one of the hardest things for me to talk about myself without guilt nagging at the back of my head. I feel that if I should speak, it should only be directed to others. Now, I'm no where near perfect in accomplishing that goal, but I don't care about that as much anymore. My goal has grown to greater heights which I have every intention of reaching! And so read this list with great care and think only of good intentions:

A. I am an absolute, beyond a doubt Nature lover. Observing nature is where I find my solitude. 

B. My heart blissfully lies with the stars. (I'll never stop looking for that shooting star.)

C.  I have cute little dimples I always forget I have. :) (which, by the way, I am always reminded is something others are jealous of but I simply always forget I have them!)

D. You can only see the little scar on my forehead--right between the eyes--when I am angry or upset.

E. Reading and drawing are other places of solitude for me and bring spirit, passion and adventure into my soul.

F. My favorite breakfast cereal is Honey Nut Cherrios, but if I couldn't have those then I would most definitely choose waffles over anything!

G. Autumn is the most beautiful, mysterious, gentle, graceful and magical time of the year for me. (It's also my very favorites season!)

H. I'll always prefer dogs to cats no matter how cute they both are!

I. I have a strange bump on my right hand, ring finger from endless drawing and writing. (I guess I just hold my pencil really oddly...?) Which is another thing I always forget about. 

J. As much as I hate to admit it, Pinterest is one of my many weaknesses, along with: baggy beanies with pom-poms, romantic novels and movies, envelopes, friendly dogs, a good book to get lost in, pencil and paper, and toasty food. (especially pumpkin bread!)

K. "K" is for "Kiersten" which is my name and to be undeniably honest--I love the sound of my name, "Kiersten Pauline Benson".
L. I am "Philvophile", which means I am an absolute lover of rain and rainy days. As a matter of fact, I prefer rainy days to sunny days no matter what.
M. "M" is for "mail" and I love receiving and sending mail. I often wish I lived in an older time period where the only way of communicating was through letters and airmail. I mean, who doesn't feel overly special when they receive a letter? (I know I always do!)
N. I will always and eternally prefer a real book to a digital one. Always! Why? Well, purely because you can never replace nor receive the memory refreshing smell of a new and awaited book, or even an old one. You could never get that from a digital book. The next reason is simply, you cannot press vibrant flowers or leaves against the digital pages of an electronic book. Another reason to my preference is you can never replace the tear stains, finger prints, and accidental marks from dripping drinks and crumbling food you try to eat while reading at the same time. My last reasons are simply this: you can only experience turning the very last page to a long and adventurous story, with a real book; and a giant library stuffed with books will always be more impressive than a digital book. Always.
O. "O" is for "optimistic" which is what I am!
P. My ever growing desire to travel the world will never end and seems to me will only continue to emerge the longer I await a journey somewhere I've never been. What can I say? My heart is made with beating wings and a printed map right on top.
Q. "Q" is for "Question! Question! Question!" I am a wanderer and a curious mess (without even the tiniest chance of remedy for that.) My eyes were made for wondering, while my feet were made for wandering. 

R. "R" is not for "Yamel," but "Rachel" who made it possible for me to proudly say, "Hi! I am  Kiersten and I am a twin!"
S. I am a writer. It is what it is. But my mother once told me something about writing that has never left my heart. She said: "If you are going to be a writer, then you must know many, many words." And so, I strive to learn and I love learning new words everyday.
T. I do have faults like everybody else in this world, but I try to never focus on them. My faults have nothing to do with who I am or how I look, but rather what I do. For example:
-- I constantly pick my mascara off all the time! (And it drives my mom absolutely crazy, but I do it anyway!)

--I watch movies all-the-time. (probably WAY too much!) But what can I do? How do you fix a *wink wink* "problem" you don't mind having? That you in-fact, enjoy VERY much? Exactly. (You don't.)
--Most of my room is covered in pictures, piles and piles of books, notebooks, sketchpads, quotes, and random items scattered every-which-way! (Such as: seashells along my window seal, pebbles, dead flowers, and a secret letter box no one knows about.)
--I get nervous a lot. And more likely than not, it is for the dumbest reasons.
U. I try everyday to focus on others and not myself.
V. I am a hopeless romantic! My poor husband will have to put up with me constantly comparing him to "Mr. Darcy" and many other insanely attractive men only found in romance novels!
W. My favorite words off the top of my head are: captivating, escapade, empathetic, fetish, crisp, cozy, prepossessing, ravishing, and crunchy.
X. My family is my life and also my best friend list. Every last one of them will always come first in my life and I value their approval in all I do. They are my number one source of pure joy and laughter. <3
Z. I hate talking about myself, but I am learning not to. Someday someone will love every detail about me and it would probably help if I did too. And someday, I know I will.

I know that list came across very long, but letter "Z" should pretty much sum up why I made this blasted list in the first place! I know from other's perspective this list may seem trivial, but to me it means everything. It proves to me as well as anyone who is willing to read this, that I am stretching outside my boundaries and comfort-zone in order to become the person I want to be. So, all thanks to you for helping me on my way to bigger and better places.  I owe you a lot.

Originally Written: 

September 29,

2013

12:06 PM

One Sunday

Afternoon 

Reasons to Be Happy: #2

Stumbled upon this today :)

Makes me think twice about life and reminds me that I can be more happier and in an easier way!

Introducing- Reasons to Be Happy: #1

I have been having trouble with being myself lately. Being myself, as in being happy with who I am and not focusing on my own problems, but trying to help others solve their own.  I constantly find myself beating myself down in almost substantially cruel ways, but then I tell myself the things that make me shine and special, but it doesn't seem to want to stick. Thinking deeply seems to be the only source of refuge for me. Becoming lost and sinking blissfully inside my endless thoughts cleanses my fears and sorrows if only for  moment, but it seems to work for me. Sometimes when the world just needs a little shove outside my head, I like to float around in there long enough for me to forget my sadness, and remember old memories that make me want to laugh and cry at the same time. (Is that even possible? To feel so much joy and happiness that it makes you sad?) Well whatever it is I seem to like it.  Like it alot.  And I  also like to create new and exciting places, people, and events. I dream of things I've never had but I pray someday I will.
What things you ask? Well, my curious friends, things that make me happy. And let's be honest here,  who doesn't want to be happy? Here are just a few (or more) things that make me truly happy (and not the short term pleasure, but the real deal, ever lasting, life changing happy.) So kick back! Explore my words and open your mind! Happiness is up to you! :)
 Enjoy my friends:

• Shivering Autumn- crisp. shuddering leaves. pumpkins. beanies. skinny jeans. boots. scarves. sweet spices. crunchy leaves. the colors: orange, red, brown and yellow fitting perfectly together. brisk air. bare naked trees. dying grass. growing excitement. halloween just around the corner.  pies. chili. steaming cups of cocoa. smooth soup. annual hoe-downs. hay bales. scarecrows. hanging cobwebs. laughter. smiles.  blankets. windy days that no one minds. changing leaves. corn mazes. shivers. fires. fluffy mittens. bobbing for apples. buckets and buckets of candy. dusty decorations. scarlet cheeks. fading tans. leather gloves. cozy clothes. dried leaves along the street. rolling oranges. endless memories. empty park benches. crashing cold oceans. lonely light houses. stretching bridges. unbearable excitement. white picket fences dotted with leaves. pumpkin carving. shaking tree-lined streets. harvesting food. roasting pumpkin seeds. yellow corn shucks. black crows. snickering witches. seasonal gift shops. jack-o-lanterns. blushing candles. damp air. quiet moments. jumping into littered piles of leaves. knitted presents. happy greetings. rosy smiles. sticky wet leaves. scented pine cones. gentle music. trotting deer. homely corn bread bathed in taco soup. bedtime stories. spooky songs. steaming pumpkin bread. apple cider sliding down your throat. hugging quivering bodies. holding cold hands. the never ending hunger for autumn.

*Hope YOU enjoyed this entry today! And expect more to come :)

Originally Written:

September 5, 2013

8:15PM

It Never Can

August 16. 2013

Friday

6:12PM

Sometimes i feel sad.
Doesn't everyone?
But sometimes, on usual occasions, i feel like im the only one who feels this way.
Feeling like the people i know just don't care enough for me and my problems are just too big
and too many.
 And so i blame the world for not caring enough.
And i blame the world for my heart aching problems too.
When deep down, i know it's not the world's fault.
But my own.
Sometimes when im all alone in my room and my heart aches so badly that i don't feel like talking to a single soul, i conclude that no one will ever understand what it is like to be me or understand how i feel.
And you want to know a deep secret?
Sometimes i feel like im right.

But, sometimes I have good  days too.
Days where the sun seems to laugh along with me and the stars aren't my only friends in the world.
Days where every thing, sound, smell, and even taste seems perfectly amazing.
From the sun to the moonrise, everything is just too beautiful it's almost impossible to soak it all in.
And despite all the so called "problems" washed up from the day before, they cease to exist on days like this.
They run away from fear of happiness and never look back.

Until your good day is gone.

And the world is your enemy again, no longer your friend.

And then your heart yearns desperately, yet again, for that good day to return.
It yearns for it, like one yearns for a heart warming memory, distant, but still in reach, to return.

It longs for your problems to crash back into the ocean, but never wash back to the shore.

It aches for the sun to dance in the dusty light of an empty room, or chase the swishing clouds in the baby sky.

And then you ask yourself and beg from any willing ears to listen, what on earth you can give or do to keep this addicting happiness in your heart and never let it out.
You ask if there is a real cage to trap this yellow day within the lonely chambers of your blue heart.
And most would never know if there truly was.
Most would shake their head and leave you lost and desperate once again.

But then, at the end of all hope
At the bottom of the bottom
At the darkest part of the night
And in the emptiest of rooms

There is hope knocking on the door.

And you're too heart broken and scared to know if this hope is real or not.

But with no choice you open the door just a crack.
A crack, enough to shed some light in the darkness.
Enough to warm your skin and sooth playfully through to your heart.
Enough light, to make you crave for more.

So slowly, or for some desperately, you open the door all the way, one crack at a time until you no longer can.
And by that point your sunny day has now filled the room.
It once again plays through the empty room, dances through the dusty window, and bounces off every wall to echo its happiness through every crevasse of your no longer empty heart.
You're so warm
So protected
And so happy you feel like nothing in the world could possibly make you more joyful!

And in reality nothing can.

You found your happy day.

You lost your sorrowful one.

And never want it back again.

So you never look back, but you never regret that blasted sadness ever again.

All because you were brave enough to hold that trembling door handle and never let go until the door was never closed again.
All because you chose the light.
Never the darkness.

And you want to know a real secret?
That light is always there.
It will never leave you.

And never can.

"All I Want" Entree: Number Two

  June 26, 2013

9:00AM(ish)

All I want is a beautiful, vast garden. 

Even if I live in the city, roots will grow and life will flourish. I want  big, old trees full of memory and stories edged in every bark. Flowers will blossom in pinks, yellows, magentas, violets, blues, purples, and every color you can think of! An arch way will be dedicated to growing roses around its bending spine, allowing them to crawl all over its smooth, happy skin. I also want boxes and boxes stuffed with fresh, clean, and healthy growing vegetables side-kicked with luscious fruit trees standing guard, watching all growth as they quietly sleep.  Twinkling lights will scatter and dazzle through-out this growing haven. 

But I could never fully love this beautiful garden unless I knew I helped grow and watch over every single thing in it.

 

That is all want. A garden for me.  

  August 14, 2013

WEDNESDAY NIGHT

   The Stars

There we were beneath breathless stars, resting on top of a bouncy black trampoline,cuddling in snuggly blankets and whispering excitedly in the night. The perfect gazing spot, my backyard. It was just me, mom and dad out tonight. The rest of us fell asleep watching Chocolat so found no time for star gazing tonight (even if it was supposed to be a meteor shower!). So there we were, just us three. Apart from, of course the barking dogs and suspicious truck puttering back and forth through-out our street. We mumbled here and there, but mostly let the silent night and sleepless stars do the talking, in order for us to soak in all its glory. "Just think." I whispered once my mom stumbled back inside, leaving only me and dad. "Almost every person whose ever walked this Earth has looked at these same stars we gaze upon tonight." He mumbled back then left me to my limitless thoughts. 

We were told there was to be a meteor shower tonight, as there was the night before, but there hardly was. Yet, to our surprise, we were privileged enough to catch maybe six or seven falling stars and that was all we found. The rest of the world seemed asleep, but the stars were quite awake tonight. They twinkled and flickered and occasionally we caught some "Solar Explosions" (or at least I believe that is what they call it when a star blows up and rather than flitting across the sky, it merely flashes.)They looked like nosy camera flashes too, trying to snoop into our peaceful lives. I made a joke and told dad it must be the U.S.S Enterprise trying to contact us for help! We laughed and wrapped the stars around our hungry eyes until that was all we could see.

 The Milky Way spilled across the dark sky brightly and a lost wispy cloud kept drifting further and further way until it was no more. Every thing, sound, and feeling around me can only be described as blissful peace. The trees were still, the howls of wild dogs were very distant, and the disturbing noises of normal life stayed at bay to abandon the quiet sea full of stars just for us tonight. No cold and lonesome wind pierced our skin this night, but joined the rest of the night in a peaceful breathing slumber. Dad and I laid in silence until the stars fell asleep and moved no more. The neighbors light randomly flickered on, flooding our backyard in light and tragically blocking the stars from our view, forcing us to retreat to our beds for the late night, leaving star-lit maps upon our eyes and the windless night in our hearts.

 Everything was just right for the coming tragic end of summer on this August night. Everything was right and happy, the way life should always be and can if we but let it in. And to be completely honest with you, it is dreadfully easy to do so. If you're lost at how or where to start to let it in, begin with watching the stars every night. 

People change when they actually stop and watch the world around them move and sleep. If you don't fancy stars, then watch a growing sunrise, gaze at a full showering moon, or stretch  your thoughts towards the blue sky and create silly shapes within the clouds. Nothing has to be complicated or inconvenient, unless you want it to. God is knocking on your door and all you have to do is open it just a little crack at a time if all the way is too hard and in time He will bless you as you continue to open your door and let Him in. This I promise. Take a chance. Gaze at the stars. Open you door. 

Your life will change. 

Be a Sunny Cloud when all others demand for Rain.

We all have faults. There  isn't a person alive who doesn't. Then tell me why it seems so easy to focus on the faults of others, including the faults of ourselves? We all have felt with great realness the crushing power of insecurity. We all know deep in the quiet chambers of our heart what it feels like to walk by the dusty mirror and underneath the real filth believe to see more. We constantly tell ourselves we are not good enough for anything, or anyone and we never will be; but isn't this a lie? Is not underneath the dusty filth on the mirror something potentially beautiful? A beauty so special and so unique we cannot help but ache and long for it? Every beating heart has felt this. Every person alive or dead knows how this feels. We have all ached for this beauty and some wanted it so badly they paid the real price for it, and received it.

 It's like the clouds in the sky. Some are dark, some are light and some are in-between.  They're all secretly different but portray the same day by day. But some of the clouds are blinded. Some of them cannot except their real beauty and uniqueness from the others, so they insist on making rain when they know better. In porcelain rage they scream in anger and demand beauty now. They snap their lightning and roar their thunder thinking that is what real beauty is. But, then there are the clouds who are light. They know their beauty and their purpose in life. They stay by the sun, thriving on its light to give off their shading talents for others who maybe need a shady day. They are happy and content in the exact same blue sky as the others. And then there are also the in-between clouds who neither know their beauty, or show it. They follow either sunny clouds or stormy not knowing which is more beautiful, never  knowing their purpose in life and never knowing how to shine. 

In reality, we know we are not clouds, but our characteristics are just the same. The question is: Are we like the storm clouds who thrive and seek out false beauty or the beauty of the world? Who never see the real beauty they could have? Or could we possibly be the in-between clouds who know nothing of beauty and are lost to find it? But let us hope and pray that even if we are not the sunny cloud, we will someday try to be it. Because a sunny cloud not only cares for others deeply, but shines a deep, real beauty that can never be found in pasty make-up or concealing alterations. This beauty starts from within and in time works its way out. But this kind of beauty, once sought after does not demand a lot of time in order for it to transform. It only requires faith. Faith in oneself and faith in your God and Savior. Once you know who you are as a Daughter or Son of God, you know what real beauty is. You will see a tremendous and significant change in yourself that you never knew you could have! You no longer thrive on insecurity or false beauty that brings you nothing, but you will instead thrive on joy and peace. You will be content with yourself and you will love three certain things solely: God, yourself, and life. And most importantly, not only will you love your God, but He will love you too as He already does now. Just the way you are, guarantee. 

That is what real beauty is. 

That is you. 

Originally written: 

August 1, 2013

Thursday

10:20(ish)AM

A Light at the End of a Tunnel

      Loss. Is there any cure for it? Can a wound as deep as losing the one you love ever truely be healed? Can the icy sting of death leave a curable scar for once, instead of one that fades but never truely goes away. I want my scars to fade away completely and never plague my swollen heart again. But then again, so does every one else. Is there anyone alive who has never suffered through the pain of loss? It is my belief that everyone has been through it, but in our minds no one can ever understand what it feels like and no one ever will. Some have lost the souls of those who are most dear and close to them. Others have lost those who maybe weren't as close as losing a spouse or any family member, but close enough to make them think about life differently, or make them question what they could have done to prevent this loss from coming.

   But in the end, we know there was nothing we could do to prevent a loss, no matter the circumstance. God has a plan for all of us individually, and sometimes it's not always smooth sailing. Sometimes loss comes along to show us that the plan involves rough, but passable terrain.  We do not have to go through this life thinking we will never see our loved ones again, because this simply is not true! Why would God do that to you, when you know He loves you? Even if you don't, know now that God loves you with so much love it is not even possible for you to even comprehend why or how much so! He really does! He loves you so much that He sent you here with a family, a plan, a purpose, and a beautiful earth to fulfill it. Though we do not always understand why it is necessary to lose a love one, but we must remember these words and never question why again: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. 

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." {Isaiah 55:8-9}

   See? We do not see as God sees and insist He curses us when we lose the one we love, but in truthfulness, He does not! His ways and reasons are simply not ours, and in order to let go and heal again we must accept that. We must be willing to trust and confide in God, our Father in Heaven. See as He sees, and heal as He will heal us. 

I know what it is like to lose the ones you love. I know what is it like to ache and long for this person to be back beside you. I have walked down that lonesome and dark path before and pray as we all that I never have to again, but I realize now something I did not back then. I have God, but I also have my Savior who understand perfectly, with certain realty everything we have been through. He suffered for our sins and if you feel that no one understands what you are going through, think again and find comfort in the fact that your Savior does. He knows and can comfort you if you but let Him and His love in your life.  There is a light at the end of the tunnel but there is only one way to reach it, prayer. Pray and pray and pray again until you feel the scars wash away and feel true life coming back into your life. He will not and cannot fail you. 

These things I say and leave with you in the name of My Savior, even Jesus Christ who died, and suffered for me and for you and whom I love so dearly. Amen.