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.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, February 22, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
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?
"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?
Monday, February 15, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
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?
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?
Thursday, February 11, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Hope under my eyelids.
Today I could enjoy simple things.
-Waking up absolutely sore and exhausted, but having that one bit of strength to hop out of bed and go to church.
-Leaving the house with a cup of good coffee in hand.
-Having an awesome worship expirience at Journey.
-Getting new organic/biodegradable shampoo!
-Meeting with my new tutor and actually understanding some math.
-Enjoying an empty house, while not watching the superbowl.
-Talking to Austin for the first time in three weeks.
-SHOWERING.
-Taking this Loratab that makes me feel lighter than a feather, but causes my fingers to move very, very slowly.
Tomorrow is Eurydice call-backs. I am nervous as heck, and I already know I'm not getting the lead...that's okay...if I am a stone...I'll be the best dang stone there is!
Wednseday is my birthday. Not too thrilled, but I am happy that my sister is coming home for my birthday-I do miss her, sometimes.
It's getting increasingly harder to type as this medication spreads throughout every limb.
Goodnight. I'm sailin around the world, tonight.
In my dreams, atleast. I will hope for good things. Fall asleep with hope under my eyelids, and wake up feelin' hopeful.
It sure does smell good in here.
I broke the rules. :D
Today I am so grateful that it hurts so happily.
-Waking up absolutely sore and exhausted, but having that one bit of strength to hop out of bed and go to church.
-Leaving the house with a cup of good coffee in hand.
-Having an awesome worship expirience at Journey.
-Getting new organic/biodegradable shampoo!
-Meeting with my new tutor and actually understanding some math.
-Enjoying an empty house, while not watching the superbowl.
-Talking to Austin for the first time in three weeks.
-SHOWERING.
-Taking this Loratab that makes me feel lighter than a feather, but causes my fingers to move very, very slowly.
Tomorrow is Eurydice call-backs. I am nervous as heck, and I already know I'm not getting the lead...that's okay...if I am a stone...I'll be the best dang stone there is!
Wednseday is my birthday. Not too thrilled, but I am happy that my sister is coming home for my birthday-I do miss her, sometimes.
It's getting increasingly harder to type as this medication spreads throughout every limb.
Goodnight. I'm sailin around the world, tonight.
In my dreams, atleast. I will hope for good things. Fall asleep with hope under my eyelids, and wake up feelin' hopeful.
It sure does smell good in here.
I broke the rules. :D
Today I am so grateful that it hurts so happily.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Healing.
Mmmmmmm.
Healing comes with time, rearrangement of furniture, and friends.
It's a peculiar fella.
I'm trying to look inward. Self-reflection is healthy, right?
I over-analyze EVERYTHING. Honest. It may not seem that way, but my every action, your every action, and Johnny Depp's every action is monitored by me. Okay-not everything. But anything that's worth looking deeper into. And I say Johnny Depp because at this moment I am admiring his attractiveness!
I want my nose pierced, and I want "shalom" tattoed on my body. I feel like that strong of a word permanetely attached to my skin-will help me remember. Maybe it'll soak into my blood-stream and cause my every move to have purpose. Weird mood, I'm in.
Healing means moving on, doesn't it? I know it does. I feel that it does. This is real, now. I wrote you on my rock. It says four names on it, and you're number 3. They aren't in any order, but even if they were, you're still on there...written in sharpie. The physical rock that I keep beside my bed and hold onto when I don't feel like my life is solid. Should I cross off your name? Should I throw away your soccer t-shirt hanging in my closet? Should I take you off my bulletin board? Delete you off facebook? COME ON WE AREN'T FIVE YEARS OLD. I'll never be okay with how you dealt with things. Ever. I don't care how you felt, nothing justifies that!!! Okay?! Nothing justifies 6 years of friendship in one text message. In one message that broke a sisterhood. You didn't betray my trust, I didn't break yours. It didn't end in a fight. It didn't in WITH a fight. The explanation wasn't clarified and the motive only seemed selfish. And the worst part is that voicing this isn't making the pain less subtle. I'm not saying it ruins my days, at all. I just try not to think about it, but it's still in the back of my head. It's still all over my walls. On my hands. Written on my rock.
Writing it down doesn't help. Or maybe it does? I'm not going to write it down in the journal you gave me just a month ago. I feel like if I write it down there, we'll be connected in some way. And I know you'd hate that. You read my blog once. A long time ago. When I first started it, and it meant the world to me for you to read it. I know that you'll never read this again, so I feel okay with typing it.
My birthday is in a week. February 5th is sooner. I can't wait for it. I pray with every fiber of who I am...it's worth it. That Friday will change everybody's perspective. I just hope that no one will be hurt by it...only healed.
Healing comes with time, rearrangement of furniture, and friends.
It's a peculiar fella.
I'm trying to look inward. Self-reflection is healthy, right?
I over-analyze EVERYTHING. Honest. It may not seem that way, but my every action, your every action, and Johnny Depp's every action is monitored by me. Okay-not everything. But anything that's worth looking deeper into. And I say Johnny Depp because at this moment I am admiring his attractiveness!
I want my nose pierced, and I want "shalom" tattoed on my body. I feel like that strong of a word permanetely attached to my skin-will help me remember. Maybe it'll soak into my blood-stream and cause my every move to have purpose. Weird mood, I'm in.
Healing means moving on, doesn't it? I know it does. I feel that it does. This is real, now. I wrote you on my rock. It says four names on it, and you're number 3. They aren't in any order, but even if they were, you're still on there...written in sharpie. The physical rock that I keep beside my bed and hold onto when I don't feel like my life is solid. Should I cross off your name? Should I throw away your soccer t-shirt hanging in my closet? Should I take you off my bulletin board? Delete you off facebook? COME ON WE AREN'T FIVE YEARS OLD. I'll never be okay with how you dealt with things. Ever. I don't care how you felt, nothing justifies that!!! Okay?! Nothing justifies 6 years of friendship in one text message. In one message that broke a sisterhood. You didn't betray my trust, I didn't break yours. It didn't end in a fight. It didn't in WITH a fight. The explanation wasn't clarified and the motive only seemed selfish. And the worst part is that voicing this isn't making the pain less subtle. I'm not saying it ruins my days, at all. I just try not to think about it, but it's still in the back of my head. It's still all over my walls. On my hands. Written on my rock.
Writing it down doesn't help. Or maybe it does? I'm not going to write it down in the journal you gave me just a month ago. I feel like if I write it down there, we'll be connected in some way. And I know you'd hate that. You read my blog once. A long time ago. When I first started it, and it meant the world to me for you to read it. I know that you'll never read this again, so I feel okay with typing it.
My birthday is in a week. February 5th is sooner. I can't wait for it. I pray with every fiber of who I am...it's worth it. That Friday will change everybody's perspective. I just hope that no one will be hurt by it...only healed.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)