City of Black and White

[I love this song. Love love love it. Mat Kearney is amazing.]

This whole city's black and white
Tell me what is your color? Could it be the same as mine?
Faded greens and blue street lights
There's a red fire burning from the sea up to the sky

'Cause I don't wanna wait until tomorrow
To tell you how I feel the rest of my life
You don't wanna waste another minute when you realize

Walking on the dark side of the evening
Maybe it was you that opened my eyes
Burning like a fire on the water the city of black and white
Won't you just stay? Won't you just stay?

I'm on a top stair looking down, if you're coming up to me
It's where the whole world wants to be found
Golden rings and coffee brown
There's a white flag waving where my heart is on the ground

'Cause I don't wanna wait until tomorrow
To tell you how I feel the rest of my life
You don't wanna waste another minute when you realize

Walking on the dark side of the evening
Maybe it was you that opened my eyes
Burning like a fire on the water the city of black and white
Won't you just stay? Won't you just stay?

Won't you just stay now when the light goes
Under a dark street no one else knows?
So take my hands I'll carry you, you can carry me

'Cause I don't wanna wait until tomorrow
To tell you how I feel the rest of my life
You don't wanna waste another minute when you realize

Walking on the dark side of the evening
Maybe it was you that opened my eyes
Burning like a fire on the water the city of black and white
Won't you just stay? Won't you just stay?

Won't you just stay now?
Stay now, stay now when you're that close
Won't you just stay? Won't you just stay?

Never Say Never

I will not.

I will not be one of those girls who tell the class that her pet peeve is people using the wrong subjunctive tense in their oral sentence structure (what the crap does that even mean?).

I will not be one of those girls who goes to parties and allows random drunk guys to hang all over her.

I will not be one of those girls who goes to parties to get drunk/high/whatever to "have a good time and relax."

I will not be one of those girls who is so freaking uptight about her schedule, her social life, her eating habits, etc. that you can see them wedging themselves up her butt from a mile away.

I will not be one of those girls who falls for every guy who promises "Omg I think I love you..."

I will not be one of those girls who follows everything in order to follow the crowd.

I will not be one of those girls who sits in her dorm room whenever she's not in class because she doesn't have a life.

I will not be one of those girls who is a backstabber, cheater, liar, fake, hypocrite, butt-hole, stuck-up, pessimist, jerk, or unfaithful person.

I will not be one of those girls who ends up denying her faith when the going gets rough, the pressure comes down, and the people start to walk away.

I will not. I will not. I will not.

"He is Jealous For Me..."

The sky looks like an old photograph. Colorless in some places, and sun-kissed in others. The air is sticky and warm and smells like the earth and thunder. The clouds light up in the distance and the wind is slow and smooth. I can see forked lines of brilliance flashing far away against a charcoal canopy, and as I glance to the right I can see a reflection of a day-old sun on the low, puffy gray sheep. It is so quiet, outside of the storms rumble. It's like hunger, that sound. Hunger and desire, tormented and angry; unsatisfied. The lighting is so strange that it's almost surreal. Black, black, gray, ocean, dust, rose, pale pink, and finally, periwinkle. With hints of cream and cotton candy stuck here and there, delicious and so contrasting. I love post-summer storm evenings.

I told my dad earlier today that my view of God is changing again. When he asked me what I meant, I didn't know exactly how to respond. It used to be that I saw God as a sort of "shape-shifter"; he was whatever I needed Him to be at the time. For example, if I was lost, He was my Comfort. If I was happy, He was my friend. If I was sinful, He was the disappointed Father. It was so difficult for me to comprehend God because my finite mind could only see Him in a solitary light. And yet, like the beautifully complex sky above me, so soon after the rain, I find that He is so much more than I deem him to be. I cannot comprehend such and I do not claim to understand, but now as I face adulthood and choices that will affect the entirety of my future, I begin to understand that God really is the infinite, unimaginable, and intricate Being I've always heard of. I cannot question Him; I cannot doubt Him; I cannot mistrust Him; I cannot disprove Him; I cannot think Him to be singular; I cannot wrap Him up to something simple and explainable.

When I close my eyes and picture Him to be near, He is not treating me as a 5-year old. Now, that is not to say that I think I am too old to be His child or that I think He does not view me as his daughter. But as I get older, I see Him revealing things to me that I could not take before. Some of them are burdens, but some of them are joys. All of these things that I have been thinking lately and experiencing... I wondered, at first, the classic question: why? But as I get older, I begin to believe more and more that He is watching me grow up, walking next to me, and preparing me for adulthood by putting me in situations that require a decision, not that I may make it on my own but that I may understand my intense need of Him, if I would so wish to have a smooth transition into the future. Does that make sense? My relationship with God is "growing up" as I am growing up; though He never changes, I feel as though things between us are getting older, too.

On the reverse side, it's harder to cling to the "faith of a child." College is going to kick my butt. Spiritually, socially, mentally, and as a result, physically. I have recognized a sudden urgency to be near Him, and it saddens me to think it has not always been so but is especially fierce as I gaze into the upcoming year. I have battles to face, friends to make, relationships to maintain, pupils to teach, opportunities to consider... so many things that I cannot, will not face without the Father. I have ties that I can either cut or tie tighter. I have restrictions that I can either embrace or rebel against. I will walk the line, and I know it. I just pray that I don't fall off of this tightrope.

"He is jealous for me,

Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,

Bending beneath the weight

Of His wind and mercy.

And all of a sudden I am unaware

Of these afflictions, eclipsed by glory,

And I realize just how beautiful You are

And how great Your affections are for me..."

--"How He Loves Us" John Mark McMillan

A New Song

If there was a long road before me,

If the light outside was turning into gray,

If the years ahead were numbered

By the times I’d fall and break,

It would be okay.

There’s a reason for this tower

There’s a reason for this pain

If I had the strength to scale this wall

My hope would be in vain,

Because in the midst of all these towers and walls

I hear Your voice, you say,

It will be okay.

I’ve got you, my darling,

I’ve got you, don’t you see?

I’ll use my hand to guide you

To the place you need to be,

So don’t lose hope, beloved,

I’m teaching you belief…

For in the end I’m going to set you free.

If the morning turns to darkness, don’t be anxious.

If the night consumes the hours, do not fear.

If the path your on is narrowed

To a maze that seems unclear,

It’s going to be okay.

Because there’s a reason for your weakness

So my strength will give you wings

There’s a reason that you have no voice

So I can give you words to sing

And in the midst of this, grounded silence

I hear Your voice, you say,

It will be okay.

I’ve got you, my darling,

I’ve got you, don’t you see?

I’ll use my hand to guide you

To the place you need to be,

So don’t lose hope, beloved,

I’m teaching you belief…

For in the end I’m going to set you free.

Confinement

Hosea 11:4

"I led [her] with cords of kindness, with the bands of love, and I became to [her] as one who eases the yoke on [her] jaw, and I bent down to [her] and fed [her]."

I needed this verse, even though I don't completely understand it. But it helps.

Jeremiah 29:11

"For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for your welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope."

I will sing praise,

I will sing praise,

No weapon formed against me shall remain.

I will rejoice,

I will declare,

God is my victory and He is here.

All of my life,

In every season

You are still God

I have a reason to sing,

I have a reason to worship.

And this is my prayer in the harvest

When favor and providence flow

I know I'm filled to be emptied again

This seed I receive, I will sow.

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I'll take whatever You're doing

Inside of me,

When it feels like chaos,

Somehow there's peace...

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Give me a Revelation,

Show me what to do,

Cause I've been trying to find my way

And haven't got a clue.

Tell me should I stay here,

Or do I need to move?

Give me a Revelation,

I've got nothing without You,

I've got nothing without You.

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God I'm crying out tonight,

Because I've given You my life,

But I'm tired and I'm missing what's behind,

So once more,

Here's my life.

Even when the tears are falling

When I find I fear the calling

You remind me,

Words You've spoken over my life

Promises, I've yet to see them come

For me...

Dear Em,

The girl you see is not beautiful. She is not clever, nor loved, nor enviable. She is a lonely, desolate demon who is ITCHING to destroy you. You know what she really looks like? In the corner of your mind?

She's on a hospital bed, wearing one of those disgusting, filthy gowns that ties loosely enough in the back to reveal bruised and mottled skin. Her hair is lank and damp and looks like dishwater, and falling out all over the place because she doesn't have enough nutrition to have healthy, sleek hair that grows. Her eyes are sunk in her face, a face with no life and the skin stretched too tightly over brittle bones, so that it looks like an old, translucent sheet of wax paper that yellowed over time. Her lips are chapped and taunt over her teeth, and her mouth leads to a bleeding, fiery throat with a never-ending ache, caused by puking up so much. She is not beautifully fragile— she is disgustingly broken and twisted, like a dry twig ready to be thrown in the fire. Her hands are bony and dry, cracking between the knuckles. She is ready to die and she beckons to you. She wants to die. She would love for you to die, too. There is no snowstorm here. Only dead and rotting leaves from a long-gone autumn, waiting to decompose. Everyone who looks at her shudders, because she cries out to them all day long, not for help but for pity, not for food but for thin air, that rasps through her lungs and she suffers through another day, still waiting to die and become... nothing. She cries out that she is overlooked and only in her weakness will she be recognized, but it's a lie. She eats nothing and is yet never satiated.

Doesn't that sound enchanting? Oh, wait, no— it sounds like hell.

Lost and Found

So, in Orr's AP Lit class, we did these free-write things. And one time, I wrote something about The Great Gatsby, and he kept it, and all I got was a photocopied version back. I found it today in my desk drawer.

"There is a gap in human nature that rests uneasily between the things a person knows and what they only have the power to imagine. It is deep, wide, and fretful— many extraordinary and unfortunate men have allowed themselves to fall, subconsciously, into its blanketed jaws. It is a state at which one becomes fully aware of what he possesses, and what he does not. Of what lies as a necessity, and what presents itself as a means of life within its appearance of necessity, that captures a mans soul and hunts him as prey, making him shift restlessly and seek, in most cases, eternally. Here, in this ravine, a man may become oblivious, even ignorant, and is bound hand and foot to lie in this hole until satisfaction does, or perhaps sadder still, does not, arrive.

If such a man stuck in this gap there ever was, he would be called Gatsby. His face would be pleasant, but somehow, dry. For his mind would be beyond whomever he was with, or wherever he was— he would be a man with a purpose that could never be fulfilled, for how does one close the intangible rift between the throes of ravaging desire and the dissatisfaction of material surplus?

[There is no man truly living who would contend to believe he has no purpose. Even those sunken in the depths of their gap have the most torturous destiny to be reconciled. So it somewhat stands to reason that those who overcome will save their life, while those who let themselves be overcome, will lose it.]

Perhaps it is unnecessary to single out one man versus another when discussing human nature in detail. However, it is imperative to agree that, like Gatsby, there will always be those who extract, who exhale, who emphasize and enlarge every aspect or the soul to the point where the very air around them cackles and snaps with a melancholy, sweet, electric vitality, that can and should remain forever a mystery to the average soul.

This exemplary personality is created within the gap. It sets a man apart, raises him above the social standard to the point of vast admiration, but leaves him very desolate, very hungry, and very lonely. He has given up his free will to it, and there alone, until the end, he shall suffer."

When I reread it, it's very broken. My thoughts don't connect at all, and it really doesn't make sense. I wonder what I was thinking when I wrote it.

A Much Needed Update

What a crazy-busy week! I can't believe it's already July, with the 4th over and celebrated, Lauren come and gone, and the future staring me close in the face. I remember when graduation seemed so far away, and now... well, time flies, right? I need to send in my final transcripts to Carolina before the 15th and finish picking out my courses. Orientation is in exactly one week! I've found myself thinking about college more and more, realizing how prepared/unprepared I am, how things are going to change, and how I'm really not the same person that I thought I was, and how I'm going to be a different person all over again in the course of a few short years. Because really, what's four years out of the average 82-year life span? Hardly anything.

Being with Lauren these past few days has taught me a few things, surprisingly. It's funny how much you can learn from a person who's been your best friend since you were four, because you begin to take for granted that you already know everything about them, about yourself, and about life. And yet, somehow, the relationship teaches you new things in the strangest ways. I've realized that my love language is not physical touch like I thought it was— when I am irritated or tired, I do not like it when people are extremely close to me or touching me. I want my personal space, haha. I also found out that I like to lead people; if I know the directions or the how-to's, I have no problem leading people who don't know. I like being able to take care of people. And then a few things were made even more clear—like the fact that I am extremely impatient, or that I don't always feel the need to be rushing around doing something, or that I am independent. I also discovered that I love my group of friends. I am grateful for who they are and how they interact. They are great.

There seems to be so much hanging in the balance, these days. I feel like I need to keep gathering myself together, gathering myself together, and yet simultaneously spreading myself apart. I want to go into college a whole person, without strings and without pieces missing, but at the same time I don't. I want this summer to spread myself out, to give and explore, but when that happens you don't always get everything back. In a sense, I feel like giving sets me up for inevitable failure. I'm learning to be okay with not making everything work. The only thing that I can find beautiful about being broken is the fact that there is only one way left to go: up and up. Giving is like working a muscle and getting into shape. You have to stretch it to make it work. You have to push it to its breaking point to burn the excess. And when life throws those little uphill moments, you have a set the pace, grit your teeth, and take another step.

Am I willing to work? Am I going to keep giving? And, perhaps more importantly, can I evenly and impartially weigh the consequences of keeping that one string extended? Yes. Yes. No.

The thing about making decisions is that you have to make them on the fly. Magically seeing into the future isn't an option, and given the choice, I really wouldn't want it anyways. In the wake of it all, I trust. Mhmm.