this may not make sense in the morning..

two sides to every girl. And I can't become one over the other.


it's not a simple good verses evil, or Holy Spirit verses me. it's just a division of thoughts, perception, and identity.

I am shy. I care what you think of me.. Love me. Like me. Just accept me. I embrace this world and thank Him daily. A smile comes with the reds and oranges of autumn, the sunsets of July, and the scarves of February. The music. The living for God despite everything. The loving. The lessons. The waiting..

And yet I am direct. Blunt, and usually sarcastic. I say what I think and honestly delight in making people flustered. I believe in eye contact and meaningful conversations. I am wild and spontaneous, which usually ends with guilt and sincere confessions. I pray for change. And ache for every broken heart and those with lost loved ones. I see the world. The violence. The pain. The misplaced lust. The pointlessness. And I am simply waiting.


two sides to this girl..Neither one better then the other, but simply apart in their surviving ways.

Points of Destination and Clarity

The trip to Hazel Green did nothing to enforce equanimity. If anything, I was too free, yet somehow enslaved to my frenzied, cynical thoughts.

Like the erratic weather, I couldn’t find a word to construe my mood. Depressed? Yes, but that’s been there. Like a background noise, to every thought, a constant whir to every hope. Unloved? I defend this notion with thoughts of my mom, roommate and coworkers… I’m reminded of the Only One who even matters…And so thoughts drift to why I wanted to pick ‘unloved’ as an adjective in the first place… I can’t replace him. I can’t replace him. I can’t replace him. Lonely? Always. Sad? Sometimes. Numb? Daily. Happy? Only when I feel I have a purpose, something to strive for, a reason to not stay inside my haven of books and busy work…What happened to that point?

Lord, as your child, am I not suppose to be demonstrating a life of contentment? A life where despite the odds, I am joyous for I know You, Your love, Your gift, Your vision…But instead I have nothing but knowledge of your gift to set me apart from the lost--so it seems I am just as lost as they are. Satisfy my heart, oh Lord ,with You and only You. Help me to shine over the pain, to learn what you teach, and to be contented with solely YOU. I am Yours. Please hear my prayer, for You are my only point.

Detached

It always takes some event, some shift in my daily routine to put me back to this spot.
It’s not depression. But rather a state of confusion. I get this inability to think. Instead my thoughts are everywhere, lost and tangled in a web of intricacy. I am not in a daze, but part of it, existing solely in the fatuous dreams of my mind.
All the while the external me is caught in a state of comatose. I read the pages and comprehend nothing. I sleep, yet forget to eat. I realize. But I can’t seem to wake up.