yeah Pretty soon, you’ll file down to the bone..
where you’ll see the rotten, empty,
And there’s nothing left,- you’re finally alone.
You’re where it allllll makes sense, and you finally know –
that no one can hurt you, because you are your own. …
It’s not like I’m finding anything.
It’s not like I’m finding anything.
It’s not like I’m finding anything,
Sitting in my dorm room, it’s Wednesday night.. *sings in familiar tune*
“listening to the kind of music that – I – like..”
Where did the first half of this week go?
Tears in my eyes.. a pair of shoes.
From Sister Melody:
“Hi Amber, my intent was to buy you the pair of shoes – however, Ruth misunderstood and did not pay. I’m returning you the amount that you paid.”
I’ve never had someone do something like this for me.
Pay me back for a pair of shoes I bought..
I’m very touched; don’t really know what to say.
Lord Jesus, your people are very beautiful. 🙂 I want to be like them, who are, like you.
**Went on a mountain hike/ jog today. It was incredible. Breathtaking, really, actually.
The sun was beginning to set, just, gilding the trees.. leaves looked to be shining, appearing as though they were made of gold. Brilliant, yellow reflections. A quiet, vibrant, forest. The light bounced off of the creek water and rested herself on rocks, boulders and stones. I didn’t follow a path, I merely made my own.. preferring that which was difficult but not very dangerous, to the simple, leveled “sideways of the valley.” It appeared much more profound, to get my feet just alittle wet, jump across rocks and grasp onto overhanging tree limbs. The very act of traveling somewhere is the greatest,.. oft times, far outweighing the satisfaction and joy received in arriving at your destination.
Maybe traveling, wandering, IS my destination.
One of my only concerns (greater than that of a bear appearing; dreamt I saw one last night! Was very excited and exceedingly thankful.. if only it would really happen) is twisting my ankle. Wouldn’t be able to walk much; which means, I’d have trouble clearing my head and releasing all of the stress and frustration that comes just as naturally in life as thirst, hunger, fatigue and smiles do.
I sang to myself; the audience is always so kind. They listen; they aren’t above or below me – they are friends ,supporters.. fascinated, INTERESTED.. it’s all real, and not at all pretend. It allows me to be,
nothing beyond or short of what I actually, am.
They don’t have to like it, they’ve never hated it, and I don’t have to try to be better, or be intimidated into sounding worse. It’s the concert I’ll always give, and the fans who will always be there.
I remember thinking, as Chris Martin poured his heart out into both of my ears,
how glorious it is, to just breathe. Only to breathe.
In, and out.. the power, and potential – the constancy, the security..
not much has the ability to take our breath away.
Air is free, our body takes it in as naturally, and thoughtlessly, as possible.
Jan and I made muffins today! I enjoy experimenting, and so, while the original intention was to make banana nut (oh crap! we forgot the walnuts! “in this moment, hours later” realization. sniiiickerdoodles, ohhh well) muffins – Jan mentioned adding blueberries in. I consented, and as I opened the fridge to withdraw the said fruit of miniature size, I saw 3 cartons of strawberries. So I removed exactly three strawberries from one of the aforementioned cartons, washed them, and cut them into “itty bitty” pieces, adding them to the mixture and greasing the pan that lay alongside the large, green bowl. The muffins turned out very well; non-DLI students are always finding their way over to the cafeteria to “inspect,” strolling there way over to say “hello,” when word has been received that muffins have been baked.
Funny, food-driven and sugar-loving peoople.
Jonathan and Ruth showed up on campus yesterday (and today!). It was a lovely surprise.. a knock at my door, as I’m sitting upon the bed, journaling, and BOO! It’s “them two.” We walked down the hall to Jan’s room and woke her up ‘earthquake style’ (so Ruth’s fault, idea – whatever). They joined us regulars for evening worship and then the four of us went out for the night: shoe shopping, dinner, and dessert. Our first stop was PAYLESS, due to the fact that I had mentioned days previous that I needed church shoes. I’ve used my mom’s for years– shoes that have never perfectly fit me– and, accidentally, left in Atlanta, Georgia the pair she had lent to me. Ruth had then contacted me earlier on this week to mention that she wouldn’t mind going shoe shopping with me, and so, here we are. I knew I didn’t want heels, anything open toed or without a backing. Nothing frilly, ultra-girly, showy or silly. Nothing green or red.. something pink, white, or black.
I finally decided on brown, dressy flats. The three musketeers insisted that BLACK would be more practical, but I just surrendered myself to the absolute truth that I, as an individual and oddity of a human being, couldn’t see the necessity of having shoes that would match any, every outfit. I argued that brown matched my eyes and hair. When I had once made my way to the register, I asked the shop attendent for her honest opinion.
“Do you like these shoes,” I motioned to the box lying on the counter, “Or do you think black is better?”
“It depends on what you’re wearing with it,” she replied.
“This hair-” I pointed (towards my head).
“Brown,” she smiled.
I grinned at the others and felt very confident that I had made the right decision. It wasn’t a “settlement;” It was success. And I found it in an Aeropostle box. (Bet you didn’t know they makeee shoessss. Or, you probably did. I’m just not up on ‘THAT’ sort of thing.)
Just can’t conform, be mainstream, conventional, or normal.
We purchased bagels from the Panera foodstore next door and, with our big bag of bagels (and creamy-substance topping) in hand, proceeded to make our way over to the Starbucks located in the self-same parking lot (it was all just so convenient). We sat at a boxy table and conversed.. conversed about things such as guitar-playing hippies on tropical islands, the availability of coconuts, the pros and cons of sanity/ craziness and which is preferrable, dangerous pirates and gun-firing nutcases (and which one’s presence you would feel safest in).. as we drank our respective sugar-dairy drinks. I got a double chocolatey chip soy (cream base, no coffee) grande frap, Jan got a tall carmel apple spice frap (ewwww), and Jonathan and Ruth both got hot chocolates. Not a fan, but they were pretty thrilled about it.. dumping in excessive amounts of packaged sugars. It was the picture of young adulthood. It was a great night. We fled the Starbucks and stormed into Bed, Bath and Beyond, where Ruth spent a good amount of time looking for college dorm-room amenities. J, J and I amused ourselves by goofing off; I became emotionally distraught while watching an infomercial on air-compressible space bags.. Jonathan complicated the lyrics of “Complicated” (Lavigne), which song was playing on the radio (and to which song we all aisle-danced and lip-screamed).. and Jan examined various items. I grew weary and layed down on a well-dressed bed. I could have fallen asleep, if given the space of about 10 minutes. Was very tired; the sugar high was shortlived and strange, like a missle that soars vertically into the air, wavers, and then
The crash came quickly.
And then, we left..
and then, it kicked “back” in – and revived.
Jonathan and I laughed our two dear friends to the point of greatly disturbing them. We sang, we giggled, we tried our best to annunciate and express the sentences and words we desired to communicate but had difficulty doing so, with insane bouts of laughter inhibiting the use of the “speech gift.” I had a slight awareness of how ridiculous we must have been presenting ourselves to be, and how retardedly we must have carried on and on, and so I recall announcing that Jonathan and I were by no means to be judged based on that night’s shenanigan behavior. We began to wind down as the monotonous rythm of driving on the innerstate continued.. as the darkness seemed to grow darker and Ruth seemed to drive faster.. as noises seemed to dull and all of our emotions just lightened.
We arrived home 5 minutes after curfew, which, could quite possibly incur a fine on the part of both Jan and I.
Oh well; it was worth it.
Today, this morning, we began our study of Revelation 12. The outline is pretty sensible, easy to follow. It’s a lengthy study, requiring a lot of explanation and stretching our mental powers to remember many and numberous references, and it’s great. Brother Jay Jay substituted as our teacher in Stanford’s absense (who was out with the fiance, making last-minute wedding preparations).
Oh yeah! They’re getting “hitched” on Sunday, and I’m the wedding singer.
..Okay, so I’m only performing one song; so I’m a wedding singer.. (someone who has been asked to sing at a wedding).. however, I have no knowledge of ANYONE ELSE being asked to do so, so,
as far as I’m concerned,
I am THE wedding singer. 🙂
Was abit difficult to function today; Chris and I were up til about 3 last night, talking (then, getting up at 620.. it hurt so bad, haha – but I wouldn’t trade our smiles, peace, and closeness for even 24 hours of perfect, uninterrupted rest). I’m learning so much, so much more about him.. it’s very beautiful; taking all the little scaps of paper God has scattered for us to gather, and bringing together all the puzzle pieces we’ve located so far, .. considering, comprehending all of it and mapping out, – intelligently, in sincerity, and by the fear of the Lord – our future of together, together. And just knowing, he’s just as happy as I am.. just knowing — his heart is in it, and he’s happy.. with me! – dare I think, because of me?
And I shall close with this thought:
tis good to pragmatic,
but don’t be afraid to not calculate,
and not evaluate.
some of our best choices, are made in an instant,
and in spontaneity, some of the craziest moments, are lived.
that’s right; you’ll always get original, truthful words of wisssdom from THIS girl.
PS, I’m not uploading photos anymore because I’m not taking pictures anymore. Camera; helplessly, unidentifiably, damaged.. it somehow, devastatingly, BROKE.
I’m the photographer without a camera. Accepting prayers.. and donations. 🙂
And just putting this out there:
I do not fear poverty, misapprehension, criticism, disinterest, hate being directed towards me or love being withdrawn from me..
all I fear, is betraying myself, torturing myself, and allowing myself to become so morbid, so outside of reality,
but that I push, scare, and drive everyone who would and should be there, “here,” away.
That’s what makes me afraid.