Frequencies.

Disheveled is a term I would use. Unsettled is a word that comes to my mind. I am attached to this place, and cannot imagine another at this point in time. I cannot imagine another way and another day on another street in this city with another group of tenants. I can imagine it without both of my housemates but I cannot imagine it with another group. Perhaps I am just scared but I feel this place as right for now. Is one of my housemates right for right now? I don't know this answer, but I know I am at a loss for figuring it all out.

I am at a loss.

Loss Loss Loss.

I know all this...know this Loss feeling all too well.

I don't know how to cope with my feelings.

Sometimes I just want to shut myself in an upper room for days on end...to feel. To understand, yet...I never fully do, and probably never fully will.

Work.

Work til your bones are tired.

I do this.

Am I nervous? Do I feel like any of my feelings bring me to an anxious point?

Yes.

Frequently.

Memory Serves the Appetizer

And another day passes. The city lights pour out over the night, keeping the thought of fireflies awake in my mind as I miss the rural countryside of my youth. I feel the chill air, but it is not the same. I sense the night's passing, as I sense another day beginning in the morning's early hours, yet it is not the same. The city does not quite sleep, but falls in a drowsy state for a few hours, as there is no clear break from day to day. A dreamless sleep endures as the months blur together, and it is a state of mind, and a state I'm in that is not the state I long to be.

I crave a different place from the place I am in. I crave a separate taste then the one in my mouth, the taste of stale air and stale moments. Where is the new beginning? Where is the clear and crispness of a night to cut clean a prior day's work and toil? Where is a clear break to yesterday's madness, to tomorrow's hope and new awakening to open eyes...ready to begin again, begin again?

Where is there rest to be found? Is there a quiet moment by a pond in a quiet wake of trees? Is there a silent walk with the symphony of evening's animals...quiet chirping and rustling to the dark's song...the prelude, and postlude to the new day beginning and an old day ending?

Come forth to me, a new moment, and a new beginning where I believe in full, and I walk in full. Come forth to me, a new phrase to be uttered in joy at the sun's changing state. Come forth, new heart to embrace a new hour of my life unfolding like the folded napkin of a dinner with family...a new conversation of breath that I have not yet used before...

Will I come back to this moment?

Yes, I will. My memory has served me well so far, and serves me all too well now.

Memories fade. And I will fade, yet...I am determined. I am determined to walk and wake and breathe something new in a way I have not yet breathed and bared.

I will embrace that which I have not embraced before, and I will let my mind wrap around things that fear has crippled me from, prior to these moments in an upper room of the house.

Will I forget?

Will I remember?

Will anything be worth remembering?

I hope. And I hope so.

Hope will not be in vain. This...this is one thing I will be sure of.

A Night turned into Morning.

Quit doubting. Trust in me.

He says these things yet I'm tempted to doubt, as if he hasn't been faithful each and every time. He has been faithful, and in my moments, and in my acting out in doubt, I have only wasted time, and wasted what he has been calling and wanting me to be doing.

Which, I believe, is just constantly trusting Him.

He calls us to trust. Why don't we?

Why are we so scared to lay it down, and walk in trust, and hope in Him, rather than ourselves? Each time I've actually trusted...not for something that I want, but just knowing he knows best, and walking according to how he's calling me to live...

Each time, he's been faithful because he can only be faithful. He is that which he says he is...the Great I AM. What does that even mean?

I don't know.

But someone told me, I AM...and then fill in anything I've ever needed....fill in anything good...real good. Like real love...

I dunno.

He just IS truth, and light, and love, and hope, and the things we want deep down. We want to be happy, and we want to be whole, and outside of Him, I don't really think we can be any of those things. The brokenness as the fall of Man has stayed with us and can only be bridged by Christ.

Jesus Christ is the only answer I've ever really found and believed.

Everything else has tried to convince me otherwise, and has tried to convince me of other things, yet nothing has proved to be faithful. Nothing has been so full of hope, and love. I long to know this love that Christ gives freely. I long to know this forgiveness he has offered to me even though I'm unworthy and unfaithful, just by my very human nature alone. He is the great I AM and has and will be everything I will ever need.

Yet the paradox is that I don't want to trust in Him, but I want to trust in me, yet I know myself enough to know I fail. Why do I prefer to trust in a flawed and broken system instead of looking into heart of Christ and know I can be healed, and I can live as His instead of mine?

Put Simply

I'm so funny to me. I would rather say no than yes. The time constraint is my biggest failure. I fall between two sections of my brain, both comprehending time, and not sensing time completely. I lose the essence of whatever a schedule is supposed to be, and struggle and strain to remain on time, in time, and intact.

I bend and break as my mind has little to no time to process my reality through my unconscious subconscious self. I cannot seem to filter and sift through all these words floating in my mind to understand and know what I am feeling.

Processing is lacking as I go about my daily business. Sometimes it is the biggest struggle to just DO that which needs to be DONE.

I need alone time, yet I need time with people, BUT, I need to be making enough money, AND, I need to be getting the grades.

I struggle and I pine to remain in this current time, slipping into other realities of thought.

Too creative for my own good, I am lost in my creativity, and create nothing at the same time, the drive of creation leaving because I cannot sit and take TIME to create.

I am frustrated beyond means, and make myself sick in an attempt to reign my mind to do the things I know I need to do...BUT, after wearing myself out in the reigning process, I lose grip of the reigns and I lose control of everything I am. I cannot find anything to sustain and root me where I am at, and I am at a severe loss for this.

I am losing this battle with myself, and all these time constraints are taking from me.

What do I do, and where do I walk.

What do I say, and how do I begin to just do what needs to be done. To get through it, so I can have time for what I really WANT to be doing?

I'm in a rushed state continually, and I am not handling anything well.

What is my problem.

Me.

FriDays Aren't YOurs at All.

A cold and rainy morning. Coffee's hot, and I'm ready to get ready. Not really. I don't really want to leave my room today, but who said I had a choice. There is always a choice.

Yes, I'm being dramatic, but there is truly always a choice.

I need to buy one of my vocal books for class, and every time I get on Amazon, I'm drawn to the new Marvel Graphic Novel, X-Men Legacy - Salvage. I can't help but want to just 'add' to my cart or something. Then I'm drawn to look at a bunch of posters and I can never decide what is the best deal, so I end up not really buying anything, and STILL not purchasing my book I need for class.

Funny not funny.

Too many songs to know in a short time puts my brain on haywire. AND, I got up early enough, I could be working on knowing such things and practicing right now, BUT, there are extra people in my house right now, and I 'can't' wake them up. I don't like walking on eggshells in my own place. But whatever, I'm over it, and I have my feet on mute as I creep around the house with my coffee and breakfast food.

I want to have more time to do my fine art loves, such as painting, sculpting, drawing...but I don't. So, I'll quit wishing at every turn.

I have so many ideas, and so many new songs floating through my mind, but I can't find a good happy block of time to get it all in and mix properly...whatever proper mixing is. I just have this huge open ended project, and I'm trying to get it finished, but the more I try to finish it, the more unfinished it becomes...new ideas cluttering the vision of the end product.

I cut my finger on one of our happy/sharp knives yesterday while cutting up my green peppers for lunch. Bad idea. The cut is deep, and it bled everywhere, but I shall survive.

I had funny dreams last night. I feel them floating in the back of my mind, yet I cannot recall what they were about. It is like they are right there, but they aren't. It is normal for me not to remember these things.

Play Crack the Sky.

I like riding the subway/T better than the bus/T.

I just need some jam time.

I got a gig for next week. Creepy Folk Music. Do I know any? I don't really know. I'll try, but so far all I have is sad folk music. Not ok. Any suggestions, shout them out.

Thoughts on Cliff Jumping

Recently I had the opportunity to go cliff jumping in New Jersey.

A group of friends and myself hiked about 45 minutes to this small lake. On the start of this hike, the sky ripped open and poured out large raindrops the size of oversized gum balls. This is a dangerous thing, I must confess - Hiking in the Rain. The ground was mostly rock, and we were hiking somewhat upwards in these rocky hills.

The pinnacle of rain came when we got to the top of this large rock at one of the highest points when we were hiking. As we climbed to the top of this rock, our arms couldn't stay at our sides, the rain washing away parts of my heart that needed cleansed and refreshing. It was a physical rain that felt like it hit more than the skin of my hands and face. This rain entered into my mind and brought me to the next chapter of something new that I know God is doing.

We arrived at a small lake and jumped in, swimming to the other side. Pulling ourselves out of the water we proceeded to scale this 35 foot cliff. This is all scary in a swimsuit. I assume it is just as nerve racking when in much more than a swimsuit, but the cliff scraped up the hands and legs a bit.

I reached the top where we were supposed to jump off into the water, and my heart rose to my throat and fear snaked through my entire body. More than anything I did not want to jump. I convinced my friends that I did not want to die that day, and climbed back down, a few more scrapes from the rocks from the ascent. I watched all four of my friends jump, one after another after they each conquered their fears. I watched as they let go of everything and released themselves to the flow of gravity.

To sit by and watch is what I did.

Until.

The coaxing of my friends brought me to be determined to do what I was afraid to do. I climbed to the top once again.

I looked to leap.

Several times I almost jumped, then stepped back, swallowing my anxiety.

I can do this, I can't do this, I can do this, I can't do this, I can I can I can...

In one moment I propelled myself into the air and felt gravity go to work. I thought in that short fall that I should sprout wings and fly.

The water came around and pulled me from any thought of flight, and I pushed myself up towards the surface. I had jumped into a pool of coffee and come up fully caffeinated with adrenaline.

I had to begin to swim or else I would go to the bottom.

There was relief washing over me as I treaded those waters.

Taking a leap of faith. Swallowing fear to really jump into it, not knowing what the landing will really bring. Not knowing that once I do land in the waters, I will have to learn to swim and work and tread the water. Taking one propelling leap changes everything. Or you can climb back down the cliff and go back through the waters which you came and stay the same.

Unspoken Outspoken

There are many conflicting emotions.

Beneath my surface skin,

Beneath the tissue paper of an outer layer,

Rushing, raging, ravenous emotions try their best to pull me under.

To pull me by their weight,

To scream for my full attention at every word.

Every word, and the space in between screams for utterance,

Screams to be known in full,

and the weight, the tearing of it all.

My eyes betray me, lost beneath the waves,

Lost beneath the seas,

Unresting thoughts. Pulled.

Pushed down, sinking in the sand of fearing,

Never hearing, not steering the boat clearly,

Clearly not seeing,

Clearly not being what I need to be.

The weight is thrust upon me

My voice is lost in the voices that surround me,

I cannot hear the voice I long to hear - clearly -

Am I not listening, or not hearing,

Are you not speaking, or am I ignoring you?

Trying to hear the sound of your voice

And I am left with the ringing in my head,

All the thoughts unspoken

Always unspoken.

I am outspoken enough as it is.