Sticky.

I'm listening to this song that reminds me of him. Of his smell, of his car, of his stupid haircut, of his smile that leaned to the side a bit...it's stupid and I need to stop. I know.

And talking of stupidity is the girl of the hour...the seemingly always brought up girl, in my blogs. She is still alive, and don't get me wrong I am grateful for that, but in a sense she is already dead. Giving her creative mind things to smoke out of. Ideas to make her dark world a little brighter. A boot, an apple, a trophy. Nothing matters. She is caught up in the smoke and she can't see, but she also can't breathe. And she can't breathe because she is constantly suffocating her world with shit.

And then the other girl who's never mentioned, because dude it just hurts to talk about her. How close we used to be-and yet I have to find out about her well-being through other people? How sick is that. Chew on that a bit, and you'll realize it's plastic and you're thinking to yourself--"Kelsey what in the hell are you saying?"...and then you raise questions about the probability of getting high through skype. That somehow the smoke enters the speakers and through your gullet and you choke out the same smoke that she had once inhaled.

Merry Christmas and my world seems less glue-able. I should probably clean my room, but Grey's Anatomy sounds better.

...

It's unlike her to not be there when she says she will. She relies on me. Every message, every call, every conversation-she craves. She is so lonely that she feeds off my presence. I'm fine with that. I love her and I am fine with that. But today's message was extremely chilling. A message that I wouldn't dare not to answer. A message I responded to in a heartbeat. A message that scared me. Then a call. I was at Annie's tonight hanging out with her and Morgan and she finally called me. My phone was about to die, so I told her I'd call her when I was home in an hour. Morgan wasn't ready to leave after an hour so I said my goodbye's and walked home, because my friend needed me...I got on skype...she wasn't there. I got on facebook...nothing there, either. And I'm just praying everything's alright, yanno. Just praying for her.

Passion Play-William Fitzsimmons

Grief whirling around, and around, and around.

All this time I put her through grief is now being understood by my own eyes. So much pain has resided in my heart for the past couple years, especially. The only way I knew how to draw a breath was to share the pain with my best friend. But instead of leaning on God, I crushed her instead-I used her as a shield. Whatever I would feel and whenever I would feel it, Maggie would, too. And how is that fair? It's not.

Lexie has helped me realize this. As I am getting better, she is getting worse. It's an interesting mix of understanding and resentment. I wish I would have done so many things different, but at the same time all of these scars have made me who I am for a very defining reason. Maybe going through what I did, maybe even being the poor friend that I was, will somehow help Lexie? Maybe God will use what I endured to make the pain less on my hurting friend? Sometimes my inhaling is so hopeless as I exhale the truth that she isn't getting better, though. That she is weaker and more pathetic every time we skype. That I cry myself to sleep every night because I am so scared for her. For her body, for her soul, for her life. It is constantly spinning around in my insomniatic brain.

I am living so much more prayerfully and I love that. I love having a two-sided relationship with so many more people. I love having people in my life rely on me. Trust me. Love me. It's the best feeling in the world. And although I have been struggling and hurting over the fact that I am rotting in Norman, OK God knows what the hell He's doing. Which is awesome...because I sure don't, and someone's gotta pick up my slack. I wrote a song today...it's called "Yahweh"...it means the world to me, because it's my life in the lyrics. Yahweh has been through it all with me. And Yahweh will help Lexie through this, too. I know He will. He's got to.

Untitled Hymn.

I thought about discontinuing this...just not writing for a day or two, or a week, or a month, and then maybe it would dissolve? But I made this for me-and I will continue this for me.

I want her to heal. God, if there is any prayer worth answering it is for this child. For this 40 year old woman trapped in a 19 year olds body. Someone who should never have had to see what she's seen, manipulate people like she's so good at, and who values herself as worthless...God. It's horrific to see the cuts, the blood, the abuse. I witnessed her using Heroine on skype. What a great way to tell me you shot up, right? Scared out of my mind I toss and turn every night wondering when I'll get that phone call from her mom. The call where I can't understand a word she's saying, but I know what has happened. If she dies...if my broken sister cannot learn how to heal herself? Then I don't know how I'll be able to heal, either.

Coffee breath.

I got up this morning to take my still breathing friend to the train station. We did the typical 'wave' from the platform and then went our separate ways. There's a man standing on the roof across the street from me as I sip my lukewarm coffee. This man looks strangely happy, but not as happy as we were when we were throwing tortillas off the furniture store, or pumpkins off bridges. I come here to say hello, and for the free coffee, of course. He gives me a half ass hug and doesn't even strive for eye contact.

He takes every call from her. Even steps out of meetings for her. Spends weekends visiting her, and loves her with everything he has. I know that if there were scraps, any at all, that he would love me with them...but they are rotten. They were eaten by the dog as soon as I finally stood up for myself. But I will take the love that I do have...the love from my mom, all of my beautiful friends, and from God. I will take that and let it sink in because it feels good to do that. I will be grateful for the loves that is actually tangible because I am blessed by that. I am grateful for my sticky tongue and memory of this weekend. Spending time with my still breathing friend, and my other friend who is the only other person in the world who can match my craziness. So much sleep, food, and pictures. I love that. I love freezing moments. There were so many good one's this weekend.

They're yelling again. There are 4 people in this office and it's louder than the household of 7 kids I spent the weekend with. But I will breathe in...that's it...and breathe out. Stick my pen in the crease of this, and go sleep. Wired on my coffee and thoughts-I just will.

Wreckage.

I want to read so many books. Snuggle up in my bed for days with just a head lamp and a billion pages. Maybe the occasional tea and breath of fresh air. It is now November and thoughts are rustling about with the leaves. There aren't many leaves, but there are copious amounts of thoughts outside. It's funny how one day you go from a mask and the next it's only warm colors and new things. No one said it was easy, Yahweh continually does His thing of giving and taking. Which is better? Because I collapse at the beauty of His gifts, but I also collapse at the thought of emptiness and loss. What does this world need? So many more thoughts and so many more pumpkins outside.

What can I make better? This whole seasonal thing should bring me so much joy. Leaves changing, climate reversing, and new clothing arising. It should be a happy time with my friends and family, and if that is so...if that is absolutely a comfortable thought...then why do I feel the stone of my exterior getting harder? My dimples losing extinction and my roots growing out faster than usual. Why do I sometimes not wanna get out of bed because if I just close my eyes my homework will be done, my scene will be memorized, and I will feel better when I wake up again. And then I do wake up again and the cycle continues.

I haven't been to church in a long time. Since before all of this wreckage. I know that the enthusiasm at my fingertips changes so quickly and abrubtly, but I need to feel happy. At this point I am not where I want to be. I hate my school, my living arrangements, and this figure in the reflection-ah my fingers are typing all the wrong things. I wish I could just write about a painting. Or poet. Or author. Or book. Anything except go into detail about this hole I'm in; this hole in my chest. This longing, longing, longing to just be important. To be loved fully and wholly and to reciprocate that love in my bones because it is so extravagant and it is so real. I want my passion to come back. The same passion I feel when I'm in Colorado. The passion to want to be better. To feel God in my every step. Now THAT is a good feeling. That is a feeling worth risking your life for.

God, I hate crying. God, but it free's my soul in a way. What a mess I am.

I just need to want to read the bible. To want to stay sober because I am who I am for purpose. I am here to do something. I gotta do something.

Take A Minute.

"I feel like the best retaliation is love. Fighting for what you believe in is right, but fighting for the purpose of hurting someone, will only lead to more war."

I don't even know how I uttered those words. Here I am reading my own essay and someone had underlined them. Everything around me seems unrealistic. Today the essay was due and I only had under an hour to complete it because of my procrastination. One of the options was to write about a favorite song, and this was my intro:

-Let's be honest...sometimes life feels like a band-aide repeatedly getting ripped off. You think to yourself, "okay, tomorrow's gunna be better" and it's not. You wake up and realize that your friend is gone, your house was robbed, and you don't even know who you are. You jump in your car hoping to escape the next catastrophe and then you see him. That old man on the side of the road holding up the typical sign of "spare change?" and you melt. That day in particular you believe with everything you have that this man is without and is going to buy a banana with any change he gets. Well, maybe not a banana, but it's the first thing that popped into my head. You feel like giving. You feel like giving everything you have to this man because even though your friend is gone, your house was robbed, and you don't know who you are...you do know that you have a lot more than this man on the street with the musky smell and soggy sign. So you stop. You reach in your pocket and all you have is a Guatemalan coin and a five dollar bill. You give him both and he says "Bless you, darling"so gentle as if your own father had said it to you. "Nothing is perfect man, that's what the world is. All I know is I'm enjoying today, because it isn't everyday that you get to give". K'naan can really bring the heat.

B&E.

It's a sign that the mark of this house will never be safe for me. Whether it's behind open doors or closed. My life has been a constant series of 'Criminal Minds' episodes. I don't even watch that show. My insomnia will never shut up after this.

Breakable Bonds.

I've written about her before. This different kind of relationship, simply because the blood running through our veins. The seemingly unbreakable bond of actual sisterhood.

Ya know, I do think of times. I think of times when I was happy to be with her. So very proud to call her my big sister. Holding my head up and holding her hand while feeling on top of the world. Her writing me a letter for every day of camp my first year, because only she knew how to make me laugh the hardest when I was feeling homesick. Roller blading at Andrews Park before dark and skipping stones on imaginary bodies of water. Literally wrapped in her arms when he would try and hurt me again with more than just words. She was everything I needed, and I was her little sister.

Now she's got everyone fooled. I yearn for that closeness we used to have, so in tiny ways I let her manipulate me. I let her do things that my strong willed nature wouldn't allow me with anyone else. A person who's willing to call the cops on me instead of for me. A person who calls me crazy and turns my grandparents against me.

When I was at Josie's funeral the other day her sister got up there and spoke. Few tears escaped her because she mostly smiled. They were best friends...they saw so much good in each other and they brought out the best in each other. I knew that from the moment she began talking...and it got me thinking. I don't know my big sister. If something were to happen to her...I wouldn't know what to say about her..."yeah one time she tried to jump out of the car and tried to call the cops on me"...oh and "remember the time she said she hated me and didn't talk to me for 2 months?!"...the fondest memories are vague...and they are from years ago.

And what if I died? My family doesn't really know me. My grandparents only allow themselves to know Samantha's image of me. They are good caring people, but they are blind. They are blind to the point that it's just sickening. They just think I'm awful. And anyone could protest and say "they love you" but that's not my statement here. I know they love me. I know that, I know that they always will. But the thing that makes me hurt. The thing that spins around in my insomniatic brain is how they'll always love her more. Yeah, I'm selfish. I should take the love I'm given and let it fester in my soul. I should let it captivate me and relish in the thought of how blessed I am to have even a drop. But let's be honest, I am selfish. I want to be loved fully and I want them to love my spirit, too. My soul. Not just because they have to-but because they like being around me. Because I can light up a room somehow and make a joke in a sad moment to just see even a grin. But that isn't me. That will never be me to them and I can try as hard as I like but my guts will just churn and my head will just hurt. I am grateful that I am loved. But the way that my anatomy is set up...the way that my spirit works...I'd almost rather be hated by them. Atleast I would know that it was a real emotion. Atleast I'd know the truth beyond the blood.

I have to take my glasses off so the water can escape. I guess feeling deep sorrow is better than feeling nothing at all. I prayed for a challenge but I didn't pray for my friend to die. I didn't pray for my nightmares to come back, and I certainly didn't pray for my other's friends possible death. I prayed for sustainable life. For a life worth living, and working towards to get better. But all I want to do now is hang out with the wrong people who bring me down, so they can offer me something that will lift me back up.

Rylynn.

Her smile. The strength at which she can throw a damn dodgeball. Her past. Her present. Her uncertain but passionate future. Her capability to compartmentalize. Her boldness.

The pain beneath her smile. The strength she lacks. Her past. Her present. Her passionate, passionate, but unknowing future. Her incapability to be okay in anywhere she doesn't feel loved, but the way she ables herself to love me. Her untrusting nature. Her cuts.

If I could give her a hypothetical name...it would be 'Rylynn' because the song I'm listening is called that. It reminds me of her...

I walked into her room and it reeked of blood. Not a one week out of the month kind of thing...rather a thing that would make me aware of the 30 gashes to each arm...a kind of smell that would tell my brain immediately of the gashes under her ribcage and the scars on her abdomen. The sort of aroma that would lead directly to the sears in her legs, knees, and even calves. It was hard to see anything but torture in her. Though completely sober, her mind was in the clouds. Rylynn was gone long before I ever found her.

Flowers.

It wasn't real until I saw her. I remember getting up that morning. Going to only one of my classes. Picking Sarah up. Praying...praying so hard and so soft before we ate the rice. I remember getting to Behnoosh's house and putting the huge flowers in our hair. I remember offering to drive, but regretting that I did. I remember getting there, and giving Lauren's stone cold face a hug. What do you say to someone who's just lost their best friend in the worst way imaginable? Nothing. There is nothing.

We sat down and watched a slideshow of pictures. From when she was born all up until just a week ago where there popped up pictures of Josie and Behnoosh...Josie and Sarah. And all I could do was sit there and pat the strangers knee next to me who had no one to hold on to. At the end of the video there was footage of that beautiful girl...she was on a boat, with a flower in her hair...waving goodbye. The pastor read my favorite verse from Eclessiastes "A Time For Everything" and I felt God's warmth beneath my eyelids and I couldn't hold my tears anymore. It was open casket...my God, I don't know why but she still looked beautiful. I couldn't will myself to go up there, though, so I waited in the back until Behnoosh and Sarah were finished shaking the families hands. Then we got to my car, and just sat there for a while...

I got home a few hours later and just sat there in my driveway for a little over an hour. It's all that made sense to do, really. And though I'm excited that I am about to head to see Sufjan, I'm afraid of this week. Of staying in Dallas with Lexie. Of convincing her to go somewhere she doesn't want to go simply because I don't want to have to endure this, again. I don't want all feeling to evaporate from my bones, and I don't want to be sitting in MY best friends funeral, next week. God, I am so scared.

Accepting The Unexpected.

This weekend full of joy turned into a disaster. An hour into the 11 hour car ride to Denver I found out she died by a once sentence text message. I didn't know how to react. We were all starting to become so close and I thought they meant another Josie...because this wasn't real. I had seen her 48 hours before...and it just doesn't seem right that this happy person isn't here anymore. I sat in the back of Ashley's car with two people I barely know-holding in my sobs. I called Behnoosh to see if she was okay...Josie had been at her birthday dinner just days before. Then I called Sarah and couldn't even understand her. She was crying so hard that nothing made sense and all I could do was say "I know" and "I love you" through her sobs. That broke me. Sarah never cries. I got off the phone and I couldn't keep it in anymore. We finally stopped to use the restroom and thank God it was a one person because I got in there, ran the water, and just broke. But the drive continued and I did my best to focus on the better.

Lauren and I talked a while in the car while Ashley slept in the back. We mainly talked about Lexie, though. How this seemed like the perfect weekend for my visit because she was getting worse by the day-and I knew she needed me. It was finally my turn to drive...I got the graveyard shift...basically 12-3ish...it was brutal. I got a call from Maggie telling me that Lexie was gone and that's all she could say. I was so mad. I wanted to know more and I just didn't understand. Not long after did I get a call from Lexie from her therapists phone. She had been there for 8 hours and they were making her go to a 72 hour facility in the phsych ward at the hospital. What? This wasn't happening. I came to Colorado to see her...to be there for her...and now she was going to be a patient in the ER? The next day I recieved more calls from her...I found out that she had blood tests and psychiatric evaluations and that they deemed her "not a harm to herself or others". Bullshit. The 30 gashes on each arm are a dead give away. They released her and they stayed in a hotel over night. So that day she was completely in the dark. It wasn't until later that I found out that she got kicked out of the program, and was already on the first flight home. I didn't even get to see her...

But I'm here. We finally get in at 5am and I crawl into Maggie's bed and we slept. The next day Phil took Lauren, Ashley, and I to the park and we talked for a while before Austin showed up. When Maggie finally got home we all went to PETA which is a food/hookah bar. So chill and so relaxing. We smoked the sky :) After that we all went to Phil and Austin's gig at this 24 hour coffee shop. God, it was perfect. They played Trevor Hall, Bob Marley, Matisyahu, Outkast, and some original stuff. At one point Lauren looked at me grabbed both of my hands making me agree in total absolution that we were so happy. And I was. We all were. Sitting there watching these beautiful people sing and hanging out with the homeless people who kept yelling "play some screamo!"...it was medicine for me. Then a couple of us came home and I actually slept...for a while. It was phenomenal. Then today I was woken up by a leaky pipe, but then we chilled for a while and went to Boulder. I got this hilarious new beanie and a new ring. We ate at the BEST burrito place who had a live DJ and then we headed to Maggie's house. Hands down the most beautiful home I had ever seen. They live on a ranch with a barn and a billion horses and the cutest ranch style home. It's huge and everything's beautiful and wooden. I was mesmorized. Her mother was the cutest. She just wouldn't let us go. As we were leaving she just started praying mid-sentence and I thought about how blessed we all were to be together-though I don't know anyone in this house but a few people. We got home...and Lexie started calling me. She had promised me that once she got home-she was going to check herself into a 3 day rehab facility...but she didn't. She told me she was going out to party and I told her I had to go shower, which was a lie. I walked outside and took a long walk. I just laid on the grass and wanted to sink into the earth for a while. But when I got back to the gap year house everyone was packing up and in the car. They were honking at me and I had figured out they were all headed to Molly's house. There was so much going on and I felt alone. Maggie didn't really invest much time into talking with me so I told them to go without me and that I'd have Austin pick me up later. So I'm at the house with Emily and Jesiah...two people whom I've known since yesterday. We ate hot pockets and talked about how gross they were. Then we went to the basement and watched Dane Cook. Now were in the living room and are all silent waiting for Austin to come. It's funny how two strangers can make me forget my troubles more than my closest friends.

God, I need some rest.

Such Beauty.

God, I am going to be in Colorado in three days, Dallas in 8, and Tennessee in 22..23..24 days. I am such a blessed little girl. These nights, though nostalgic, are so healing me. James Morrison lulls at me and I am actually...happy where I'm at. The three of us make sense. I can't wait for Sufjan. Even though the circumstances were odd, they are such beautiful souls.

I love picturing this weekend. Good friends, good music, good coffee, and good hookah. He will be there and she will be there and that silly little thing that makes us connected will be there. I can't wait for the 12 hour car ride to read bits of the books I am bringing...I can't wait to glide down the slopes, not knowing what the hell I'm doing...I can't wait for Austin and Phil's gig at the 24 hour diner with the shitty coffee and Scott Miller. This feels unbelievably surreal.

Everything. Did you see that sunset? God, I love when you show me things like that.

Veins.

Contradiction is spinning in silly little circles around me. As I am consumed into this whirlwind of feeling everything around me, He wraps His arms around me, too. It's strange. I am in this state of mind that isn't my state of mind and yet I feel this warmth from Yahweh. This certainty that time will heal all of these open wounds. The hum of my fan and the fullness of my belly remind me of how blessed I am.

I am trying to weave my way back into my own story. The one with meaning...not the one I'm living. The pointless 'Waiting For Godot', if you will. I am waiting for something that I will never receive. Closure. That is all of what the play is about. Not getting closure...which is such an obscure yet beautiful thing. I am a slave in the play...I get beaten, kicked, and spit on. I am literally on a rope as the rubbish of my life is set before the audience. I dance and they laugh. I think and they listen...but I say nothing.

I keep remembering him. The way he looked at me, and the places he took me. It's always in this season that I think of him most. But I can only look ahead at the crooked path in front of me, instead of the shit path behind. Life's what I make it. Duh. I just gotta do this. Life is more than this. Life is so much more. God.

108.

This is the 108th post. I remember the first day I started blogging. Amy suggested it to me, and it was the best suggestion in the whole wide world. I remember when we decided to do this together. And I'm so glad that we are always connected in this-and Thursdays. I know that no matter where life takes me, no matter where we both end up...every Thursday I will think of you whole-heartedly.

"Life is shorter than we think."

As my fingers move to form sentences, Dave Barnes comes on shuffle and sings this melody to me. Jessica and I are planning a November trip to Tennessee to enjoy Dave Barnes, Ben Rector, and one of my best friends in the world. This weekend is my play, and next weekend I'll be in the arms of someone who needs me. I pray for her every moment I can. I am so excited for Denver, but I think I'm more excited to see Maggie...with every breath I love that girl more. The hope she keeps in her hand for Lexie. The strength that she keeps-when everyone else seems to be throwing their precious gift away...she is always strong. I love her so much. She keeps telling me how perfect the timing of my visit is...that Lexie is getting worse by the day...that scares me so bad. I'll only be there for barely 3 days and all that I can do is love her. That's all.

My other Maggie, my seemingly other half at times, is going through hell. It makes me hurt that petty little girl drama cuts the deepest. Cause it does. Especially when it's your Senior year and you're just trying to get by.

Jade and Sean are inseperable, and I am okay with that. I have a strange peace about it. I'm searching for more than a crush from afar or a silly little hookup.

There are so many thoughts rushingg through my head, and nothing to piece it together, but this is my blog so I do what I want :) I don't want to be this lazy, anymore. Though my life is hectic, there's so much more time for God. I know I'm not glorifying Him...and how sickening is that? Kelsey MOVE MOVE MOVE.

I cannot wait for my dreds, tattoe, and nose-piercing. That sounds so trashy all-together, but I need it. I don't know why-but I do. I also need closeness back. With my family. I miss my sister. God, I miss my grandparents. God...I miss You. I don't know how I am going to feel close to you again, because kamp is too far away for that...I'm slipping, slipping, falling away from You Lord. All I ask...is for You to not let go. As cheesy or mediocre as that sounds...just don't. I sadly lose faith way too easily. So I'll work on that and you just don't let go okay?

Sleep Until Summer.

I just don't even want to move. I'm skipping class again and I know I'm so close to falling off the face of the earth. How can I possibly help anyone else before helping myself? I wish that somehow I could pull myself together so I could try and help her.

There was blood everywhere and that's the only thing that could resound in my mind. The fact that she was shaking so much because the warm blood keeping her warm was coming out so fast. There have bee times I've been scared for my life before...but it's a different feeling when you're scared for someone else's life...I felt paralyzed and I knew that if anything happened to her I would dissolve, too.

I talked to my friend who lives in the same house as her...for about an hour yesterday. Man, I didn't even realize I had that much free time on my hands...acting seems to be consuming my time in all the wrong ways.

15 more days until Colorado...and it couldn't come sooner.

Life does this.

I'm on my knees praying for them to love me, again.
Asking for understanding to grasp the reason why they stopped.

Temporary Home.

When we were little on boring summer days she would create. One day she made me an amusement park out of desk chairs and duct tape...another day we made up a whole trampoline show for mom. And on special days we would go to the park and roller blade. When I went to kamp my first year I was so scared...and she wrote me a letter for every day I was there...

I haven't had a sister in 4 years. Ever since she left for college-she left my life, too. I lost my sister...my flesh...and mom? She lost her daughter. I would always defend her to the moon. Even if it caused me a bruised face, it was more worth it than anything. And now...I've got nothing.

I have to remind me of reasons to live. Seems silly, but it takes me everything to live. The past 3 nights have been hazy and I want to leave this town...this state...this family...this world.

She said I deserved it and though physical pain wasn't inflicted at that moment...I felt like half of the person I've ever been. I felt like the person whom I'd loved more than anyone in the entire world...didn't love me anymore.

Fighting for life isn't easy. And only God knows if I'll succeed. I'm so tired. I don't want to do anything. I just want to lie here and close my eyes.

Sometimes We Forget What We Got.

God, this is hard. I'm growing and growing and I feel so big and strong. Like You and I can conquer the world. That I realize that I mess up...that I sometimes even intentionally mess up...but man Yahweh is so everlasting. And You and I...God together we can't be defeated.

I feel defeated. I feel below sea level and my jacket's stuck under a rock and I'm drowning. You can look at the bottom of my shoes and see X's or you can see crosses. I step on things, things step on me, but the cross is always there...waiting for me. God, I'm trying to be real.

She told me that she had been hurt all of her life. That somehow my face was never slammed into the side of the piano and that the pictures of the bruises covering my skin had magically become my sisters. There was so much bullshit coming out of her mouth that my throat was on fire. I told her that he had hit me again. That when I was homeless-it wasn't self chosen. She told me I probably deserved it. That all those years I had probably deserved it, too. That she, herself, had come close to knocking me out. I felt like my organs were shutting down. I stammered to the back of Bed Bath and Beyond and sat behind the curtains. My grandma left without me. That was fine. Crying by the linen someone created a shield around me. This was an hour ago...

This wasn't even the beginning to the stories I wanted to write down today...but now it's all that seems to matter. And here comes the coping...and the bad season is blowing in. I see it up ahead and I wish I was prepared.

I know I have alot. That things are just things...and I wish I was good enough for them to love.

Let Perfect Love Come.

"Give us the grace to stand with you."

There hasn't been a moment I have felt so inclined to get a tattoe, as much as now. It will say "Everything happens for a reason" for the simple facts that everything does happen for a reason.

I met a beautiful boy who liked my company. Our taste in music was similar to almost identical but our world views couldn't be more different. God, it was refreshing to be in the presence of such an older, wiser, and handsome human being. Although I should have assumed that things would turn the way they always seem to turn...mostly because I am not doing what I am called to. That void that I was doing everything not to fill...is being over-flowed with toxin.

Let me set these goals to help fill this void with Jesus, nothing else:

1. live indifferently to upsetting situations.
2. get dreds.
3. keep discovering beautiful music.
4. make beautiful music.
5. live prayerfully.

I'm going to go with this mattering.

Come break these damn chains. They're tearing me down. I'll go with #5 on this...
Let's talk.

Open heart; broken heart.

I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.
I cannot do it on my own. I cannot do it all alone.

Mmmm

He woke up, today. That is a blessing in itself. The doctor's said he had no brain activity and little to no chance of surviving...and boy did he disprove the hell out of them. The power of pray seems like a stupid phrase but praise God for miracles.

I wrote my Grandpa an e-mail about everything. I sent it about 10 minutes ago. Weary of waiting for a response; wondering if I'll even get one...Mostly just scared, I guess.

Everyone's changing. I don't even know what earthly person to go to. If there even is one. People are changed by other people and that irks me. People make bad decisions everyday. I'm at the top of the 'bad decision club'...but what gets me is when people's characters are shaped by the people they hang out with. I guess the phrase 'you are who your friends are' is really seeming to become true. And that...well that's sad.

I'm sad. I miss her. I miss him. I miss you. I miss old things, old smells, and security. So unhappy with where I am in life. What can I do...where can I go? Only God knows...

The Fight.

My Warrior,
You are not called to follow others my beloved warrior. I have appointed you to lead them to me. Life will become a great adventure if you will step out to the frontline and fight for those who are too weak to fight for themselves. Don’t look back on what you have lost; look forward to the great victories that are in front of you. You don’t have to hide behind your fears and insecurities any longer. I can and will turn your pain into passion to change the world around you. As you find your way to the frontline, Hide this truth in your heart, “This fight is not just for you; it is for all those you dearly love.”
Love,
Your King
Who Fights for You

"He will say to them, ‘Listen to me, all you men of Israel! Do not be afraid as you go out to fight your enemies today! Do not lose heart or panic or tremble before them."-Deuteronomy 20:3

Love letter.

My princess give me your plans.

I know you have an idea in your head on how everything should unfold in your life. Even today you have an agenda. Because I love you, I need you to give Me back all your plans for today and for all your tomorrows. If you let Me have your day, I can then intervene with something special. My intervention will give you more joy in your journey then your good intentions. I know all that your heart longs for, and I want to do more for you than you could ever do for yourself. So give Me a chance to change your agenda from ordinary to extraordinary, because that's the kind of life I've destined you to live, My beloved.

Love,
Your King and your Planner

Look for His Likeness.

"We are God's idea. We are his. His face. His eyes. His hands. His touch. We are him. Look deeply into the face of every human being on earth, and you will see his likeness. Though some appear to be distant relatives, they are not. God has no cousins, only children.

We are incredibly, the body of Christ. And though we may not act like our Father, there is no greater truth than this: We are his. Unalterably. He loves us. Undyingly. Nothing can seperate us from the love of Christ."

-A Gentle Thunder.

God, Our Defender.

"Here is a big question. What is God doing when you are in a bind? When the lifeboat springs a leak? When the rip cord snaps? When the last penny is gone before the last bill is paid?...

I know what we are doing. Nibbling on nails like corn on cob. Pacing floors. Taking pills...
But what does God do?...
He fights for us. He steps into the ring and point us to our corner and takes over.

"Remain calm; the Lord will fight for you"

His job is to fight. Our job is to trust.
Just trust. Not direct. Or question...Our job is to pray and wait."

-When God Whispers Your Name

When souls collide.

"We're different from the others cause we share the same pain. It's mutual. It's beautiful. And all of our tears and all of our fears they all come in one form, and yet we think we're from a different storm."

I met someone with the same soul.

The other night was the most beautiful night of my life. Behnoosh, Lexie, and I went to John Mayer. Then Lexie and I went home and got pillows and blankets and drove out to the country and looked at the stars. We rolled down the windows of her car and blared Trevor Hall and realized how connected we were. Our stories are so different...but it's like our souls collide. We've shared the same pain.

How do you wrap your mind around that? Not sure you can.

After star-gazing we drove around and climbed atop of the tallest roof on Main street and yelled at passerby-ers at 4am. We also managed to walk down Main barefoot. It was hilarious. Then we went back to the country and if it wasn't enough-we watched the sun rise. To make something out of nothing into everything.

When I was homeless for a week I learned alot. I hurt alot. I proceeded to go back into old ways of coping, and it literally left bruises all over me. My heart...mostly my neck. Embarrasement. Red cheeks. Football games. Regret. Death.

I'm going to miss the hell out of her. She was the literal most precious person I have ever got to know. I remember visiting her and her always having every type of food cooked and ready for us. How she accidently sent me 2 identical checks for graduation. How it was the best thing in the world to hold her old hands as we crossed the street because it made us both feel safe. I found out she died right at the same moment I got pulled over for running a stop sign, last night. And I refused to believe that he overdosed because of the pain. I refused to believe that he's lying in a coma right now-not even wanting to fight for his life-because she lost hers. It breaks me apart...and I realize how helpless I am.

Everyone seemed to break down in church, today. It's all that we knew how to do. I held her hand and scratched her back...but my own throat was burning a hole in me-that is going to take a while to close back up, again.

I'm trying to distract myself and think of the other night. Think about how much closer we felt to God, because we were elevated above ground. The roof seemed like it was touching the stars...and God was holding every inch of us.

To my knees.

The past couple days have been hazy. Too much has happened and I feel satan pressing on my shoulders-and I'm trying to look to God to push him off.

Though making the hazy days none-existant by walking through substance sounds amazing...I will refrain. I will refrain because that only hurts me more in the long run. But mostly I will refrain because I know that Yahweh doesn't like that. He wants the best for me...which isn't drunken nights or numbing bones. It is an everyday struggle though. Like tomorrow.

Tomorrow will I have a home? Will I have enough money to eat, or do I have to keep burdening my friends for their dorm room easy mac. Will I have to sleep in my car tomorrow night-or will someone come to my rescue like they have the past 2 nights. I just feel so dang lost.

I miss my mom. I miss her because I feel that she's not there. I miss her because I'm starting to figure out who she is. She's weak. She's one of the least strongest people I know because throughout my entire life she's allowed him to inflict pain on me. Pain that has stuck with me even now as I'm typing this blog. Pain that I still see in my nightmares, and still feel when he's around me. I feel the most unsafe when I'm around my father.

I have the most amazing friends in the world. I am so thankful for their strength. For their hands that are holding me and their hearts that are leading me to God. Because above everything I know that I need Him. I have been praying really hard, lately. To my knees and everything. I'm just so scared for tomorrow.

Realizations.

"God's got your back"

What a simple phrase. When my friend said this to me tonight, something clicked. I've heard that sentence before...a million times over. But something about it jogged my memory.

HELLO. So maybe I'm temporarily homeless...maybe I feel empty, abandoned, alone, lost, sad...but as long as there are stars in the sky and as long as I am alive-God's got my back.

Man this hurts, though.

Save me.

We only bring out the worst in each other...mom and I. When things are good-we convince ourselves that this is permanent. That our life isn't a jumbled up mess, that my father has never been an abusive alcoholic, that my sister would give her life for us, and that we are best friends. That this feeling...this momentary time where we feel good...will last forever.

Then important things happen. More than just dinner and conversation. Things that she thinks I'm not serious about. She says she's supportive. I really think she's supportive. I feel like I'm flying. I feel so fresh and for more than a moment I really feel utterly REAL. This feels real. I'm passionate. She sees that...she doesn't like it. She doesn't want to risk losing those few good moments where we feel unstoppable...she fears losing me just like she lost my sister...like we all lost her.

I thought this year of serving would fix me. I thought it would heal me from the pain I've inflicted on myself, I thought it would save me from my own suffocation. But just like that...my passion is just an unimportant detail in my mother's life. Harsh? Well yeah.

This hurts, ya know...I'm trying to make sense of this. Remind myself that this IS God's will. That He has an incredible plan for me, for my year, for my future...but then I just get caught in these bad moments...they happen so quickly; easily. Like tonight...I bolted. Just now got home-and I left around 6:00...I hate living here...it's a constant reminder that I didn't get out. The years I spent suffering under this roof...the only promising thing that got me through..was that I would be able to leave one day...go to college...get away from this all.

Yet here I am...18 years old...living a lie that I am happy...when truly and deeply...I'm in a pretty bad place. Lord hold me up.

I feel really far away from you.

I'll never reach my limits.

Sometimes extraordinary things happen. It's raining so hard and you're okay with that because it means you don't have to cry as hard, because the world is crying for you. Or feeling, seeing, and breathing recovery. Healing, in general. I'm telling ya...sometimes extraordinary things happen.

And some days are ordinary. Like yesterday when I woke up, and did my normal routine. It was ordinary. I got on the computer, and that was usual too, of course. In my mini feed on facebook pops "Gap Year" from my camp director and I felt my heart stop. I clicked on the link and started to read about this beautiful journey. I started crying. Weeping. I called my mom and I told her that I felt CALLED to it more than I've ever felt anything in my life. She told me it wasn't probable...

I mean she was right. I paid for school in full last week...I'm getting a new car next week...and I start class in 2 weeks. But I couldn't not try. I called my grandpa and as much as I thought I could keep it together...I started to fall apart again. I have never wanted anything so much. And he told me something that I wasn't prepared to hear. He told me that if God wanted it to happen...then He would allow for it. I had to hold the phone away from me as I literally fell to my knees. I have never felt so much joy in my life. I had such an encounter with God and once I got off the phone with my grandpa I prayed the hardest I've ever prayed in my life.

Then I e-mailed the director of gap year and tolded him I wanted in. He got back to me in a surprising 2 hours and said they had a last minute spot for me. My prayers have been being answered more phenomenally than I could have ever hoped for. I printed everything out this morning and I'm going to my grandpa's office tonight to talk about it.

September-November we are doing Urban ministries. Alot of internships and I'm so ready for it. Then we have Thanksgiving break and then the first 10 days of December we're going to South America to Peru to Hike up Machu Pechu. We get to end the semester surrounded by beauty that I could never even imagine. Then we have Christmas break and leave January 3rd for Rawanda for 2 months. We get to go on a 5 day rafting trip down the Nile river in Uganda. We also get to go on a gorilla tour and hike up Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. Then we go to Southeast Asia for 2 months in the Phillipines. We get to help start a camp there. We come back to the U.S. on April 30 and by then I know my heart will be so changed by the Lord. And it makes me cry at the thought of growth I'm about to expirience. I'm praying with every breath that this will be made possible...and with God...anything is. I'll never reach my limits.

A clear calling.

I mean it really just hit me during the middle of the day. I told her I wished I was doing Gap Year with all my heart and everything just kind of happened from there. I mentioned it to my mom...Maggie and I talked on the phone about it, I called my grandpa...it involved alot of hysteria because I just kind of lost it. There was so much passion that was overflooding me. The timing seemed wrong, I was scared at this new thought, and I just knew it wasn't probable. But my grandpa understood. He made it seem like it WAS probable. I e-mailed Luke and he sent me the application. I'm already halfway through with filling it out. There's been so many prayers today. I literally fell on my knees and touched the ground.

What an answer to my prayers. I am speechless beyond that.

Veritas.

On one of the last nights of kamp the Summit kabins (oldest girl and guy kabins in kamp) lead a worship expirience called Veritas. There's alot of music, alot of stories, and alot of crying. God is always so very evident in this one lasting night. 4 people gave their testimonies-me being one of the 4. I have never felt so terrified in my entire life. Well I have...but this was different.

I remember the night before I asked Brittney, my counselor, to talk to me after devotions. We sat outside beneath her sleeping bag and I told her a little bit about my story. Then the next day we just chilled and prepared our hearts with ALOT of prayer. I have never felt so lifted...so surrounded by God's presence. But nonetheless, I was still scared. I had hardly been able to share my story with the people CLOSEST to me, how was I supposed to tell the entire kamp of over 200 people?

Our counselors took us out to the sundeck to pray in silence for a while and just watch the sun go down and hear the river run...and I realized that God was going to use me that night. I had never felt more compelled to do anything in my whole life. Right before worship began and we let the kamp into the auditorium, Brittney came up to me and asked if I wanted her to pray over me, and after an enthusiastic PLEASE from me, she did. I could feel my sisters catching on to the fact that I was so anxious, and the flood of hugs helped keep me together. I love talking in front of people...but when it's about me it becomes so much more intimate...and I feel like I'm exposing a part of me that no one should know. And right as I was about to break Maggie grabs my hand and takes me aside and holds on to me and prays her heart out. While she was praying I felt someone else come and lay their hand on me...then another...and another...and by the end of the prayer my eyes were soggy, but I knew Yahweh was so ready for a revival. To wake these people up. To wake ME up.

I practically squeezed Jordan's hand off but when I went up there to share with hundreds of strangers the most raw part about me...I didn't even have to think. I don't remember a word that came out of my mouth but I remember seeing smiles, hearing laughs, and watching tears drip down peoples faces. I stepped off the stairs and I instantly felt arms around me. We got to our next destination in the gazeebo and Brittney said "Kels, you were beyond amazing" and right as I was about to respond, I remembered that I didn't remember one word of what I said...but that I had never felt lighter...Brittney said "praise God...now THAT'S a sign that God spoke through you...USED you."

Then after the girls heard some talk on relationships...we went back to the auditorium. We watched the most brutal scene of Passion of the Christ where they were nailing into His hands...Shelby sunk her nails into my knee and I grabbed her arm. Then I felt a rush of involuntary tears running hot down my face. I had never seen that...never fathomed anything near it...what Christ did for us...what He does for us everyday...anything pointless I do makes my stomach crawl because every breath of His was meaningful....

When Andy got finished talking we all walked to the cross. Luke started talking, and Scott started singing and Amy was the closest person in sight. We seemed to simultaneously grab onto each other. I remembered all she'd been through with her allergies, diseases, and the brain tumor she's been fighting for almost a year now. It made me hug her even closer and whisper in her ear

"You're the strongest person I've ever met."

...and she said

"And you mine"

...right back in my ear....

My jaw dropped and I felt hysteria leave my lungs. This person whom I'd grown to adore, this person who has been through hell and back, this person fighting cancer and God knows what else was telling ME that I was the strongest person she'd met? I couldn't believe it...I couldn't breathe. I think she caught on. She then said

"You are such an amazing person. God is going to use you in so many ways, you know that?"

And while I'd felt so broken before...I felt whole at the cross.

Beautiful Understanding.

This morning I woke up and I wasn't at kamp. That was a tough realization. I went for a morning horseback ride in the mountains and soaked up the perfection of God's creation. Then I spent the rest of the day shopping and eating. Maggie and are coincidently staying in the sane hotel and we met up with some staff from camp at the best coffee place in the world; ie: Durango Joe's. We had the best conversation and then Gretchen, the video girl from our term, took us back to the hotel and me, her, and Maggie laughed hysterically by the fireplace. Then Gretchen left and Maggs and I talked for a while...and I realized I finally understood.

I finally understood what it felt like to truly and deeply forgive someone. Maggie and I are in such a good place and I feel God completely in control of everything. There were so many times during kamp when we would just pray for each other. Hold on tight and just say the words outloud. I felt like I had finally received the sister I'd always longed for. God is in our friendship now and I feel his presence so much. It's enlightening.

I have never really cried before leaving kamp. It's always been hard-but this time the goodbyes were harder than ever. My counselors and I were hugging in a circle and when Hutton started to pray I felt my body collapse and Brittney holding up the world for me. It was too heavy at that moment. Full of tears...but also full of God. I am so full that even eating seems like gluttony.

I'm not at kamp...yet I'm not quite back in the real world yet, either. I know it will be hard to be back home...but I'm praying harder than ever.

Goodbye's.

"The hardest thing about saying goodbye, is having to do it again everyday."

After 3 weeks of constant closeness, the goodbye had to come. We all had to walk out to my car and we all had to hug in the street. We all had to part, knowing that it would be 365 days times 2 till we'd be standing where we were at that moment. See ya later is only in the vocabulary of people who will meet eyes again soon, but goodbye's mean business. There's something about the uncertainty of the next visit that I can't diverge my mind from.

I'm in one of my favorite places in the whole wide world, tonight. Durango Colorado always gives me a shield of peace. I always seem to feel okay when I'm here. Put aside my mom's over-reactions and my father's asshole tendencies, and I am a happy girl to be here.

Even when I'm gone-I expect you to write, of course. I can't wait to come home and read everything that you have been going through-on here. Even though we'll be obvious pen pals...our blogs give hope. To me, atleast. I'm going to keep writing, too. Not on here, obviously, but a pen and paper will have to do. I'll send you my nothingness thoughts about how full I am. I have been here only a matter of hours and I feel so very full. Everything was worth the wait. Pathetically enough, I'm going to miss the hell out of you. It's been such a good 3 weeks. Honestly. I've never laughed so much in my life, and it really was the perfect medicine. I love you, I love you, I love you and know that I really am thinking and praying for you everyyyyy singgglleeee day. Not a day missed.

The next time I blog...I will be a happy girl. I know it. Because I already feel God I do, I feel him soaking into my skin, and I'm not even there yet. THAT is a reminder. I've been away for far too long. Not just from Colorado, but from my Dadddyyyy. I could cry I miss Him so much. Our relationship. Our closeness. I pray for this web to be untangled. Daddy I need you.

As for one of my dearest and truest friend ...sister...I'll see ya later.

Tick. Tock.

I saw this old reading. It was a reading a friend wrote about me. What makes me "tick".

"You feel abandoned by people. Always afraid of rejection. Want to appear like you aren't concerned with what others say or think about you. But their opinion affects you greatly. You want to seek God out but feel He will reject and hurt you like everyone else in your life."

It feels so true and then so far away from the truth. I forgot about this. This was her opinion...and even now it affects me greatly. Maybe she was right.

Family?

The overwhelmingness subsided a while ago. I got the break I needed and now I just feel detached. He leaves in two days and I've never felt further away from him than I do now. There's a schedule. I've barely seen him all week-and there's a schedule of things for you guys to do. Things you guys have planned. Dinner with your parents. I don't so much feel like a family anymore.

It's weird how easily your body seems to break down, sometimes. You can seem completely fine and then behind closed doors you fall apart. Every piece of you unravels and you feel less than whole. It's hard to feel too much, but empty to feel too little.

God, sometimes I feel like I'm incapable of doing anything right. I truly split open my life so often. Just lay it out so I can get a feel for things. Evaluating everything seems to make everything hurt more, but evaluations are just magnifying your life. So this is real and raw and that sucks.

I never really quite feel good enough. Granted, no one IS good enough, but I feel like everyone around me would rather have it another way...would rather have me NOT there. I guess it's always been a feeling I've had with my sister. She hardly ever got yelled at by my grents...she got diamonds when she was upset, right in front of my face. They would yell at me if I said the wrong thing-and when I went to hide beside their bed...no one looked for me. No one ever called out my name. I once hid their for hours, and they just went on eating dinner. I remember when I couldn't see them...it was the loneliest months of my life...and when I got them back...I was still in her shadow...I was still nearly visible...invisible. I can't tell you the anguish I feel everytime it's the four of us. They're so captivated by everything that leaves her lips...and anything that leaves mine is ignored...or belittled...or just plain thrown away.

I guess I really do have a trend of falling apart behind the doors. I become liquid because I can tell you that I'm the least solid person you'll ever meet. And my tears are as salty as flippin soy sauce, man.

Chances.

I just wanna sink my teeth into something as a reminder to live. This numbing life is only practical through the window. But then you open the door and remember how fucked you are. How fucked you feel. The glass is broken and your skin is burnt. Ya know...skin is just skin-but it's a lie that words are only words-because words make up everything, sweetheart. My god, they fill these pages, and they're all over billboards, arms, and broken windows. Waves of silence are filled with them. You think I'm kidding? Well there's no shame in proving you wrong.

I blink my eyes at the thought of silence. Is my God hiding in it? Is He sinking His own teeth into my pain? Is He feeling what I'm feeling? It's overwhelming. I once saw a play that moved me. I bit my lip instead of crying. I went home that night and demolished that script. I wrote down everything meaningful and put it all over my walls to re-evaluate my life.

I'm lonely tonight. Solitude makes sanity, but empty solitude is just painful. Excruciating. I'm staring at my fingertips wondering what I've touched. Who I've touched. Have I stopped anyone in their tracks, because I can't tell you how many times I've tripped at the thought of you...stopped at the sight of you. Of you all. And that's what makes this so hard.

Help.

I put the good things in the stars and I hang them up each night. Every night. The good things are what keep me going. I doubt God, alot. There is a space between us and I know that our relationship isn't really growing. I hurt people when I'm hurt. I don't mean to. I just want people to care. I yearn for it through all of this weariness. And most of the time I do an okay job of hiding all of my deep-rooted anguish-but, like right now, I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't. I cut.

Farewell.

We all had to sit in the blue velvet chairs...the immediate family, that is.
It was weird. As I sat listening to "I Can Only Imagine" I thought about who that man beneath the flag in front of me could be. Who he really was.

He was the father that could never be a father. Even the minister said he didn't quite know how to be a dad. That he loved his children, but never knew how to let them know. What do you do when you see strong people break down? My Uncle, who has survived almost nearly 5 deaths, was weeping. His daddy was gone. My mother, who acts like she always has it together-showed the world she didn't, with her cries. She never really had a daddy.

I said farewell to a man I didn't know, today. And it was hard to mask the burning in my throat.

Deeper.

God this hurts. I'm going deeper and deeper into this slump. I don't know how to write beautifully, not sure I really ever did, but pain is eroding my entire body. I just want to fly.

Hollow.

Usually the next day I wake up with a fogged memory, refreshed soul, or even just okay.

Today I woke up, and it's the worst its ever been. When I drive, when I blink, when I flick the television on. It haunts me. And it's light outside. That's the scariest part. My alarm clock feeds me no more pills and my friends are fed up.

I would be too.

This time it's too hard. This time I don't know who to call...so I look to myself. No one's how they seem. I don't even know what's inside of me, anymore. I'm through. I just need to open some skin and try and hold on. But that's what I've been trying to do? So here's to the next step.

Ashes to ashes.

It's weird when someone so close to you dies. You know how to feel. You feel hurt, you feel guilty, you feel diseased. There's so much pain and it's hard to release. So you cry. Or you don't cry. You write things down or you just close up. But no matter what you do...you will never get over the feeling of how ordinary death is. It happens every day.

So my grandpa died. I wasn't close to him. I haven't cried. I haven't torn open my life to find a deeper meaning. But we shared blood? There was the potential of this hurting. Of this being one of the hardest days of my life...but it isn't. My mom has been crying a lot. It's only been a day and that seems like all she knows how to do...is cry. She is so guilty. And this, I know, will eat at her forever.

Me and my sister were asked to speak. Read a passage from the bible. It's not close enough to us to hurt, but he was our grandpa, and we owe him something. I mean I do hurt...for my mom. For my Uncle. For my grandma who was so mistreated by him. My mother who would never have the dad she'd longed for. So this IS close to me. I guess this DOES hurt? I don't know the man...but everyone deserves to be treated like they matter. Because doesn't everyone matter?

I would hate to be burned alive. I'm thinking to myself-what were his thoughts? Did he pass out before or after the fire touched his old skin...was he scared? Was he unconcious? I feel for this person who I did not know...but I feel like that's okay because as I upturn my wrist I realize that his blood runs through my veins...and he was a person who lived...but not a good life. People are questioning whether or not to attend his funeral and THAT hurts me. He was a human being. And I hope no one questions whether or not to say goodbye to me. I hope that my life means something. And I really do hope people come around...

Ashes to ashes...
Dust to dust...

Blackout.

10 times this summer, already. Am I trying to make some feeling subside by numbing my body? I thought it was all in good fun...but last night was scary.

I don't remember hardly anything. There are fragments here and there that seem scattered about my brain, but that's all. I remember what people tell me and I remember the grass. Wanting to "spend time with the earth" is what they said I kept repeating.

I disappeared and they found me next to an air conditioning vent. I remember almost losing conciousness until Morgan smacked me in the face. I had scared her. I remember crawling through the grass and yelling for her. And when she finally came back, I remember laying in the grass with her, looking at the stars. It was the first time she had ever talked to me about Stephen. Joy stumbled over and I have never seen her so broken. The three of us held each other and cried. As strong as we all seem to convince ourselves we are...everyday is a struggle.

After that moment I don't remember a thing. Everything seemed to just...blackout.

I'm not sure what I'm learning...but I sure am growing. And my body aches like hell.

Choices.

Every morning you wake up and have a choice.

Am I going to live today properly, from the core of my heart, from what I believe. Will I make this choice...or will I destruct another day?

Too many of my days have been destroyed, and I just want to live well. 'Live' being the operative word. I want things to matter, and I know that my life is good. The people in my life are important. In some way, through this tangled web I weave...I'm important, too. That's a weird image to derive in my head.

We talked last night. I do remember that. I remember talking about choices. And I read our text messages which didn't make much sense from my end. And all I could remember was choices. I don't know what I said, I don't remember what all that you said...but I woke up this morning. I went with Jade to CVS to pick out some blonder hair dye and I came home and let my fingers hit the keys so hard in my attempts to make loud, passionate music.

I want some rejuvenation the way I felt before my Uncle died. I remember a time where nothing got me down-besides the usuals of just being a girl. My family has never been perfect-but at that moment I had become numb to all of that destruction and just focused on an important life that wasn't mine. It was my Father's up there in the sky, and that's when I was the most happy.

Even now my life is not my own, but I still have this messy way of thinking it is, and thinking I can do anything I want to my body. That is a foolish thing to think.

So we visited his grave a few weeks ago, ya know. The first time I was in his presence in two years-since the funeral. His stone was beautiful. I mean absolutely him. Didn't know a tombstone had the ability to really represent the person underneath, but it did. My throat burned the entire time, though. I really had forgotten how much I missed him. Everyday I do, though. He had become such a big part of me. He understood me like no one else. But he's up there having such a good time, though. No shame in that. Only praise.

I went on a picnic with Jordan yesterday and she told me that

"Just because you do bad things, doesn't mean you're a bad person"

...and that lifted me a little. But I still feel heavy.

Bootsie.

I'm writing this one handed, while my kitty sleeps on my lap. She's been sick for days and they say she won't make it much longer. I can't help but want to cry as I hear her struggling for breath as I type. It kills me.

As stupid as it sounds, she used to be my everything. When the world would tear me down, Bootsie would come right up to me and rub her face against mine in a "it's gunna be okay" kind of way. She was like a dog, because everyday I got home from soccer practice in Elementary school, there she'd be, waiting at the door. I couldn't trust anyone but her. She's been here for most of my prayers...and now I pray for her to heal, or go to a better place.

I love her more than I thought possible to love an animal. I don't think that's silly.

Dust.

She comes from a broken home with no beliefs. Her past holds bruises and blurs. Her future seemed bright until the tunnel caved in...then the whole world became darker because she took after the sun. She was bright when it was...but the second it disappeared, she did too. Her face seemed wrinkled and she did not look like she was 18 years old. She had too many scars for her age. Her hair swept across one eye and she was grasping the red letters as hard as she could in hopes that they would bleed into her. In hopes that she would heal from all the cuts and scrapes that her daddy had made. That her sister had left. That her mother dismissed. She looked beyond everyone to try and find a face in the clouds...and at night, in the stars. When she slept, she only dreamt of better things. But were they tangible? Would they ever be? Will they ever be? She's broken beyond belief. But as she moves her fingers and prays harder than ever-she feels an overwhelming presence that must be something important. She is being held.

You search much deeper, within.

My life is falling back together...yet in the same sense...it's falling more apart. Each of my arms are being pulled in the opposite directions as I'm waiting for my nail polish to dry. Can things stand still? God.

Graduation is next Thursday. And then I'm done. I'm free? No. I have to live at home next year. I have to go to community college. I have to be miserable. Goodbye New York Film Academy...goodbye Colorado Christian University. Where can my passions reside, anymore?

People are coming back into my life...but I feel like more things are being taken from me than they are being absored into my skin. I need some lotion. I'm not making any sense, but my eyes are burning.

I don't like these mood swings. These slumps I let myself slip into...over the most trivial things. I bad look...a small feeling of loneliness. The small feelings you brush off become my biggest nightmare. I let these feelings consume my thoughts for such a long time...my stomach physically starts aching from it.

Take this life.

I focused on one spot on my wall for so long that memories started to flow into my head and I couldn't flush them out.

I just want to cry for forever. Maybe if I'm sucked dry of tears then the pain will go away with it. I wouldn't turn back time if I could, because we would still end up here, somehow. That's how He wants it. It just hurts so bad. I'm just honest.

Disconnected; torn.

My hands are behind my back in chains. I'm disconnected from my head when I feel my heart burning like this.

Can you hear me from behind my newly locked door, dad...mom...Samantha...Maggie...anyone? I feel captured by something uncomfortable. I yearn to be surrounded by bright lights that make me feel lighter. Lighter than this, but heavy enough to make me realize that struggle is equivalent to scar tissue, and scar tissue is essential to my ever growing body that belongs to my only loving Daddy.

I want to cry when I stare at nothing, because when my mind is blank I think about the mountains. Mexico. The cross I had to carry. The cross He had to carry. And my immovable body feels useless because I'm not spreading my wings like I should and I'm not opening my mouth to present this beautiful knowledge I have of the world. Of God. Of the mountains.

It's like someone has taken a king sized sheet and placed it over my head. I can see through it but I still feel trapped. I'm drinking my Izze that tastes like alcohol and my chains are becoming tighter. My insence is pissed off at me for not burning it, and I set it on fire as we speak.

I want to dig my nose into that book for forever and just read the red words for a while.

I'm torn.

Moments that matter.

After we scrubbed our make-up off and hugged the audience, Josh and I went back on stage. We just stood there for a moment-taking in the empty theatre full of memories. Reciting old roles, and recent one's. Holding back tears captured by smiles. Learning with every single breath that we would never be back on that stage, again. Realizing our run was over. Hurting over that and also being amazed by it. Seeing each other grow. Knowing we'll never be the same. The memory will be engraved into my mind forever.

Mr.Ryan caught me after the show and I gave him a rose. He pulled me in and said "You've always been a rock, baby. So strong in yourself, and you always do what I ask and never fail me." It always gets me to see a grown man cry. Especially when this grown man has helped you to become the person you are. I told him I loved him with tears running down my face-and I remember finally believing, for once in my life, that I'd made someone proud.

I hadn't had a particular reason for this kind of anguish. It hit me all at once and I felt betrayed. One little slip of a secret and my whole world seemed to fall apart. She followed me outside and I couldn't keep my balance-but I remember this moment. I avoided hearing all of the words and making eye contact because I didn't want to cry over a lie. I didn't want to cry at all. But the words finally sunk in and the lie seemed unimportant. She told me she loved me and wrapped her arms around me. The honesty didn't prevail until she kissed me on the cheek-and then I somehow understood that believing in people is more important than we know.

A stupid innocent kiss that led to another, and another, and oh crap...another. Though barely remembered, it felt good to be wanted by him, even if for only a moment. And for those moments wedged together...I felt like there could be something more to me than just a tie-dyed shirt and sandals made of rope.

She said she didn't even want to look at me...moments like those make me believe in my heart that her picture of me fills with hate in her head. Makes me think that all those years of protection were spent unreasonably. But in those moments I always think of a certain other moment. I look at my note on the wall from her that reads "I'll always be here for you" written in jelly pen on a piece of torn out diary paper. She gave it to me for protection. The moment gets sucked in by that other, stronger, one.

Those moments...they're the one's that matter.

---------------------

The bug jumped out of my pants and I laughed.

My fingers are shaking as I type.

My tears are hot as they stream down my face.

I am breathless and alone.

Alone.

Empty.

Broken.

I have failed.

For the last time...

I have failed.

Breath in.

Breathe out.

Stop breathing.

Glide away and so be healed.

Waking up is too hard.
I find myself losing breath as I crawl out of the flower bed...feeling the tips of my fingertips go numb. Wanting my whole body to feel the same...but not wanting to feel at all, really. I told myself I wouldn't live a selfish life...but I have already failed.

I failed when I spoke too much.
I failed when I dialed your number.
I failed when I spilled the milk.
I failed when I asked you for bookfair money.
I failed when I was selfish.
I am failing now.

All I can say is...I'm sorry.
I wish I could amount more than a pair of dirty jeans and a magenta hat.
I wish for too much and find hope has left my body.

So....glide away and so be healed.

Beauty is not in the eye of this beholder.

I don't like it when you stare. When you raise one eyebrow and let me assume the rest. There's so much air...and you let me make the words you do say, fester. They swell up inside of me and I try not to let them make a mark, but they always sliver through the patches of rougher skin. The scars, you know? It's hard, sometimes.

I don't like it when you barge in my room at midnight, saying you love me. It's the liquor talking and as much as I refuse for my tongue to spit out those same words back...I fearfully do, anyway. Because what happens if I don't? That's something I wouldn't want to find out at midnight-with a huge day ahead of me.

I don't like your smell. Alcohol mixed with cigaretts and cheap cologne. You try to cover up so much more than just the booze. You try and hide your insecurities, you're ugliness, you inability to love...your own daughter. Words are only words. And they can build you up-but just as easy they can tear you down. The drunken "I love you's" only hurt me, daddy.

I don't like distance. Because as much stuff I don't like about you...there's still a whole where you should be...and I don't like that you'll never be able to fill it.

But most of all...I don't like that you can't even find one beauty in me.
Not one. Because I guess I've learned that your eyes don't hold much beauty, don't see much beauty, don't realize anything beautiful. And not in just me...but everything. In setting suns, in paycheck day, in your daughters hair growing longer...beauty is not in the eye of this beholder.

Will I live another day?

Sometimes breathing is beautiful.
Even when things are rough, I inhale.
Even when things are great, I exhale.

Other times I find myself face planted into the ground. Body shaking. World moving too fast. I'm hurling. I'm crying. And this feeling doesn't make me want to breathe easy.

I'm suffocating myself. And right now...I'm not even gasping for air.

Helps me grow.

Stupid little things are what make me exuberant.
Tonight I decided to stop worrying myself on where I'm supposed to go for college. If I'm not able to go to Colorado this year, I'll go when I can. If I'm meant to go there...God will make it happen. I know He will.

I always notice how much happier everyone is when it's warm. We can all go to the snowcone stand and enjoy the sun and each other. Behnoosh and I drove with the windows down and the music blaring thinking "this is how summer is going to be" minus school. It doesn't matter what happens in the fall because summer is ours. No one can take it away from us.

We sat out in front of her house for a while, just talking. She's very interesting to talk to. There's so much more to her than what appears. Sooooo much more. And it's interesting to get to know more of her, everyday. It astounds me how much she really does care about other people and about the world. As much as she probably doesn't realize, too. It's funny. We were at starbucks 2 nights in a row trying to accomplish my math homework, last week, and just ended up talking. What do we have to talk about? We talk all the time. But I'm glad God put such a wise person in my life. It's good to have people in your life like that. We are polar opposite's in our views on life-but I wouldn't want it any other way. I learn so much from her.

It's so weird that everything is coming to an end. But it finally feels right. I'm glad you finally wrote! I missed reading. I always keep your blog up on my safari because I love what we have. Just ours. This is just ours.

God. Through every bad choice I make-please help me make the right one's more often. I'm asking you that more than ever, right now, at this moment. Last night I finally talked to Jade. For....about an hour cause it was really late. Face-to-face. That was hard. I miss her so much. But it's hard to let her back into my life, completely. So incredibly hard.

But all of this stuff...every single letter...helps me grow.

Citrus.

Maybe I've got it all wrong...this wouldn't be anything new. I just wish you'd be there. I know it's obviously too much to ask-and I'm sorry for ruining your days, wasting your time, and consuming your careless thoughts. I want to love you, trust me. Because this kind of love exists so uniquely because this kind of love is in no way disguised. This kind of love is programmed into your soul from before you're born until long after you're gone. So why was I the exception to this love? I like being different...but if being mediocre meant that you'd love me...I'd be plain for you, daddy.

SUNSHINE

I am a happy girl!
Today the weather was soooo great :)

Normal Monday at school.
Funny talent show.
Productive piano lesson.
Dinner and pedicure with Austin.
Talked with Josh in my driveway.
And now anticipating stupid pictures, tomorrow.

That's all.
I'm blessed.
:D

.....but I still miss Mexico with every fiber of my being, every second of the day, even when I fall asleep.....I dream I'm there.

Growing hurts so good.

Realization means growth.
Mmmmmmmm. It hurts, though. I realized a lot, tonight.

I realized I'll never be able to have a healthy relationship until I forget about the past one's that have hurt me so bad. I define relationship as a real connection with someone. Family, friends, lovasss. Whatever, really. And I'm gunna be honest-I've messed up my fair share of relationships.

But I am learning, I am growingggg. That is evident. I know that's true.
But gosshhhhhh gollyyyy goddddd, hellooooo??!!!

Dang I feel you. You're answering everything. You really are.
It makes me realize that I don't need everything I thought. Not everyone can always stay in my life. You allowed something to crawl back in and made me realize, nothing lasts forever. Nothing but You and Your ever constant LOVE.

Love makes everything okay. Nahhhhh. YOUR LOVE makes everything okay. I've never been this rejuvenated. God I needed Mexico. I needed the sign. The fact that I was accepted into CCU while I was in Mexico was such a confirmation that I needed. New York will always be where I found it. New York Film Academy will offer me another scholorship. But Colorado is now. Missioning is in my soulllll I can feel it more alive in me than I ever though, ever imagined, ever dreamed of sister.

I think of all that's happened in the past couple months. I've felt more lost than I could ever remember feeling. More sick. Constant queasiness, constant hurt, constant heat. Thanks for understanding me. Listening to me. Having patience with me. I really would fall apart without you. You remind me so much of God's love. I feel like what was wrong with me and Maggie's friendship is that we were lacking God...and with our friendship...I feel him with every breath. Thursdays really were made for us. Alwayssss.

I needed this wind. This feeling that freedom is near and it's a different kind of freedom because I'm not creating it...it's just opportunity...it's just finally happening for me. God always provides. Yahweh always comes through. Even if it takes me a while to notice or absorb. It's sinking in like the hot summer sun.

Who knew that growing would hurt so good.

Full.

I am so full.
I'm exploding with joy. And you know what I just realized? That then first three letters in 'Joyas' (our team name) is JOY. Mmmmmmm :D

My nose is stuffy but I know that I will breathe easy, tonight.
...with the hum of my fan and an overflowing love for Mexico and for this past week and for everything and everyone I come in contact with-I love you. And I hope you know it. Words will never be cohesive enough to get my thoughts across.

I'm okay with that? Hahahaha.

I filled up some more empty spaces of my 'wall of encouragement' with pictures. Pictures of Mexico. Of my sisterssss. I'm staring at it and I have to sneeze.

Thank you Daddy. You always come through. Always.

Joyas.

I'm laying here on my air matress in the corner. Feelin so much better than yesterday, even though I'm cut up and sore.

What opened my eyes was what they call home. Were building them a house-and I saw why.
They let us into their "home" to use the restroom. One little bed. Dirt everywhere. A bucket for a shower. No running water. Broke my heart. Helped me work harder.

We ate at La Familia and they were vegetarian friendly so I got to enjoy some real authentic Mexican food in Rio Bravo.

We drove 'home' and Maddy and I laid in the fresh green grass staring up at the sky and palm trees just talking about nothing while everyone else showered. Then we had small group and worship and then a very dirty Kelsey took a good long HOT shower. It stung like hell, but it felt good to get clean, mostly.

Now I'm just laying here on my air matress, like I said, and I'm thanking God for this day and the next. Ole!

I cannot seem to operate.

I guess I'll try and describe it...
Have you ever gotten the wind knocked out of you? Or played the 'passing out' game? Now I'm not talking sensibly, just matter-of-factly.

This feeling makes you want to head to the bathroom and puke your guts out.
Makes you wanna drive with the same song on repeat.
Makes you wanna cry-and not care who sees.

Makes you wanna hold your knees to your chest, cause nothing else will hold you together...

It makes you want to write. Your fingers press the keys-though you're not 100% concious of what you're writing...yet everything seems to be coherent and incoherent at the same time...if that's possible.

Heart racing. It's beating fast, I'm tellin' ya, I'm not making this up.
FEEL MY HEART. It's not in the upper-middle part of your chest, like some think. It's crooked. To the side. Somehow that makes sense. Everything in life is a bit crooked. And if it's not...just cock your head a bit to the side.

Do you know how hard I've worked, just to make you proud? I've known you for 7 years and you do him favors. You've been my role-model for 4 years, and I have worked the hardest for you-than I have for anyone in my entire life-and I am a stone. A rock. You give him auditions with the theatre director at OU...and you give me 'loud stone'. This is expected. Like everything else in life.

BUT I AM GROWING. Child....that much is true.
Healing, too. Slowly...but surely.

Mnemosyne.

Tonight was horrid. Everyone was irritable, tired, and cranky. I found myself stretching through every emotions possible-and I wanted to leap away from everything. There wasn't anything to redirect my mind, except for Michael.

Holding a boy while he sobs can really eradicate your own anguish. I held him into me and let him cry and shake. I combed my fingers through his hair and kissed him on the forehead. The times you think you need people the most-is when they need you.

Spectacles.

Sometimes I don't ever know what I'd do without theatre.
Acting. Performing. Being noticed.

3 acting tournaments in the next 3 weeks and the spring play.
I'm right where I need to be.
It's stressful, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it.

New York Film Academy. I. Want. It. So. Bad.
Colorado Christian University called me last night. Well, a student who attends. I don't know where to go. I want to actttttt.
But I want to mission.

I want too much.
Pops will lemme know.

Breath in. Breathe out.

I'm gunna miss Dwayne and Delaney. I always noticed how it was only me and them who could get away with wearing beanies in school :)
Delaney and I always had our handshake when I walked into class, and Dwayne would always get jealous, haha then I'd say "Hi Dwayne!"
and he'd say "what's uppp" haha. Their laughs made even the worst of days better.

My spectacles have specks on them.
Say that in a british accent. That, too, will make your day fantastic.

Mmmm to be broken and put back together. Things hurt, but things heal. Everything locks fingers. Hopefully things will start making more sense. And even if they don't...I'm feelin' closer and closer to Yahweh with every passing day. Sweeeet. That's what I want more than anything. But I could so go for a Reese's right now, too.

Vegetarian.

Everyone else is doing it...so why not me?
Okay, just kidding. I gave up meat for lent.
Maybe me and pops will grow closer...

New York was perhaps the most exhilerating expiriences of my life. I feel so whole and enthusiastic. I'd rather be there, but I brought some of New York home with me...so all is well.

Please come to Mexico with me.
please. please. please.please.please.
Times one thousand and three point eight to the billionth power.
But if you don't, I'd understand.
I loved tonight, by the way. I miss hanging out with you. The good energies and conversation. Even if it is just creeping.
Can't wait till Thursday.

p.s. I miss our morning talks about God. Weird to think it started such a long time ago, sophmore year, during zero hour. I miss it. And you. And God. I miss alot of old constant things.

Today I missed Abby. No lie.

Oh man. I'm not even sure if what I'm about to say is even worth writing. My heart was roughly thrown in so many directions by the person who is suppost to be my rock. That's okay. No need for detail. No need at all. No need no need no need to ruin this good energy. This lasting energy. This good feel.

I love you, God. As simply as a I write it, I mean it even more simply. There's nothing in between this love, there is nothing to figure out, or measure. I love you. And I'm pretty sure you love me to. This mutual feeling makes my head spin. Not like vertigo...like a calm carousel. Like a happy, sunny, bright day.

What am I saying? Who knows.
But I'll bet no one has a swatch, like me.

Warmth.

From the moment I stepped off the plane...I thought

"well damn, it's cold!"

....okay, more than that-I'll give up.

From the moment I stepped off the plane, I wanted to cry like a baby. Hysteria almost left my souls as I was taking in all the lights and realizing that after 18 years of waiting, I had finally arrived home.

New York City is even more amazing at night. The street vendors are extra jubilant, there's this gal who sells Obama condoms which I always get a good chuckle at, and chills run up my spine when I realize what I'm surrounded by. Wicked, Phantom, Lion King, Billy Elliot, Addams Family...can I go to them all?!

I feel so whole, here. Constantly surrounded by theatre. Good food on every corner. The best grandparents a girl could ask for, with generosity that would blow your mind. We go into anthropologie:

"okay Kels, your budget here is 300$" by grandpa says.
This can't be real.

He showers me with gifts, he says I love you for no reason, and never fails to say goodnight. This is what I've always longed for in my father. My grandpa is one of the best people I know.

Behnoosh once told me that a role is just a role...and it has no significance unless you fufill it.

I had an interview with New Tork Film Academy. The director of admissions was so 'impressed' that he asked me back the next to audition. So I went through with that, today. He ws 'blown away' he said and he offered me a 3,000$ scholorship-upfront-minimum! My hands started to shake and I forgot what it felt like to breathe.

I spent the day with Emily. Haven't seen her in 2 years and boy have I missed her! It was so good to play and catch up and roam around the city. I am blessed beyond anyone's understanding. This has been the most fufilling weekends I've had....in almost forever. God always provides what ya need. I was broken last week, but the healing started this week.

Thank God for New York.
Thank God for brokeness.
Thank God for healing.
And thank you God for warmth. For your overwhelming constant warmth you spread through me-even on the windiest days in the city.

I am warm under the covers.
I am okay with all of these spelling errors that I refuse to correct.
I am completely, and exhaustedly...BLESSED.

And I am a child of so much.
I only wish to someday have nothing...and be okay with that.

Ya know?

The world keeps spinning.

In my absence, nothing will change.

You'll wake up every morning, tired.
Splash water on your face, and still be tired.

You'll go to school, work, you'll play, you'll laugh.
In my absence.

The only empty space will be your planner at lunch. But it's easy to tag along with anyone.
Promise.

You're heart will be the same shape, you're laugh will still be obnoxious.
If I'm gone.

The class will banter, the inside jokes will still seem flawless.
If I'm not around.

The world keeps spinning.

Mmmm

"Six billion people in the world, six billion souls. And sometimes... all you need is one."

Winter.

"It's hard to breathe. It's a cold winter. Warm me up inside. let Your face from me, not hide. You are what I long to find, to melt this cold heart of mine. When You are around...I am found."

REPEAT.

I'm in search for something beautiful. I am seeking it, and seeking it, and seeking it.

"The world is full of lies. They steal away your time."

Listen-I finally get it. And I will write as much as I feel like I should.
I am broken until I look to you for a piggy back ride.
I am cold, until You come inside my heart to warm me up.

It's filling when You're here.
Complete.

Broken.

If I had to define brokeness-I'd sum it up to:

2 hours in darkness. Same song on repeat. Weeping, holding my knees to my chest as if I could never let go. Watching my candle melt. Funny sounds escaping my lungs. Thinking about everything that's gone wrong in my life-and how I'll never be able to change, or fix it. Missing things that have been gone for a while. Wishing for things that I've had and lost. Wanting to change so much, then realizing that would prevent growth. Not literal growth-I'd still be 5'10"...but I would probably be even more weak. I am so weak. Broken people are week. Empty. Full of holes. Blemishes. Disaster. Dirt. Silence. Noise. Books with no words on the pages.

Brokeness is when something is incapable of being put back together.
I am incapable of picking up glue and putting together what should be art.
It's impossible to modge this flat.
It's weird how only God can do that.

I rely so much on people. Too much on people. Because while people will fail you everyday-God's knit into your heart. He has to be.

Are You?

Wrinkle up your nose.

I've never found someone as similar to me, as Jordan.
It doesn't matter what I've lived through or what I've done.
Mostly because she's lived it too. Mostly because she's done it, also.

It's a breath of fresh air. She understands me more than anyone ever could. She can predict what I'm feeling-cause chances are she's felt the same way. I just want to hug on her...but she's thousands of miles away, now. Another reason we're alike-we're both IN LOVE with Colorado. She moved there about a month ago. At first she was my k-life leader, then she was my mentor, and now...she's my friend. My sister. We had a long conversation last night until 2:00 in the morning. I felt God gushing through my veins and I was up for hours even after we hung up.

Yesterday was my birthday. It didn't feel right. Jade and Marisa forgot. Maggie simply just didn't care. I'm not sure why I had a tiny shred of hope, thinking I might recieve a simple text of "happy birthday." I mean am I wrong? I thought 18 was pretty huge, no matter who you are. No matter how you feel. That one hurt. That one hurt like hell.

Today I was sitting in English, when I became internally paralyzed. All I wanted to do was run around and cry till my eyes bled, and I wanted to go swimming. Not just anywhere...in the Ozarks. I wanted to scream like I was 8, instead of 18, and I wanted someone to hold me. Instead, I picked up the bathroom pass and paced through the halls-looking for a familiar face. Looking for something other than Frankenstein. I hate that book. I hate that book and I haven't even checked it out, yet.

This feeling isn't fair.
This feeling gives a tear.

Why is this noise resounding in my head? STOP!
I won't let you in like that. Not ever again.

Noise can be deceiving. It can either be banging whispers, or non-chalant screaming and then it can be nothing. Perhaps everything is in your imagination. Perhaps only silence exhists and within it-we exist. Perhaps noise is just a way to pass time. Perhaps everyone is invisible and I am creating my own world. You're not real, I'm real, but nothing else is really solid. But that's depressing to think about, and that cannot be true in any culture, in any life.

What drives you?
Because I'm trying to list the things that drive me...

-The empty spaces between hard things that stretch out my capacity to love.
I learn how to love by learning how to lock my jaw and bear the raw truth of lies. Of hate. Of anything other than love. Because everything that isn't love-teaches you how TO love.

I'm not making sense...but atleast I'm breathing.
I'm not thinking clearly...but atleast my fingers are moving.
I'm not that strong...but your absence will not make me weary.
You are strong. I am not. You+me=alot better. You lift me up. And I'm not the easiest person to lift. I weigh more than you'd expect, I'm 5'10" and I tell ya I come with alot of bagage. I should come with a disclaimer.

Will someone stick around? Will someone walk on by and understand these jumbled up sentences? Explain them to me. I know they mean something...but I'm not sure what language it'll take to find out.

Love me. When I'm crying, do nothing but hold me. When I blow out my candle every night...guide me safely under the covers. Softly shut my eyes. Gently stroke my hair. Say "I love you". And then I'll believe you.

There are strings around my wrist and I am yelling for a father! I am yelling for my father who lays downstairs on the couch passed out. I am screaming for a sister to stop muffling my cries. I am yearning for a friend...to learn the biggest thing there is to know about me.

...to be continued.

Just wrinkle up your nose and smell the vanilla.