Help me out, Bob

Remember when I wrote this post?

It's still the most popular.

Perhaps I should revisit discussing influential singers/songwriters/legends.

Just a though.

The beginning

via

And so it begins

this person is here

Living

Her awareness has yet to develop to our level

the awareness of others

of humanity

It won't be long that she will recognize you

your laughter

your anger

your trickery

Forgive me

I am angry already

hopeless

The reality this person will face

the sorrow

the pain

it is going to hurt

You are going to hurt her

shame

Promise me this

promise as if your life depended on it

you will try

and beyond try

with all your might

to love those around you

not for them

not for yourself

not for me

but for this person

she is perfect

So what I mean is...

Reading literature that is all metaphoric is one thing. Analyzing literature that is all metaphoric is another thing. I've analyzed myself back to the beginning. I have so many ideas of what this short story was intended to mean. I'm at a loss. And my poor essay, it's at a loss too.

Any thoughts on The Yellow Wallpaper?

Feminism

Restraint

Illness

Depression

Insanity

The man's role/power

Secrets

Perspective

Her Name is Rosaline

This girl has done something pretty spectacular. Yes, she has melted my heart while being states and states away. What I would give to have her sleep in my arms tonight. My auntie arms are missing her terribly. I wish I could see her grow up, without using photos. I wish I could give her kisses whenever I wanted. I want to make memories with her. Oh, how I wish....

I'll be dreaming about you tonight, sweet girl.

happy new...

new year. new thoughts. new shoes.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today I am thankful for...

My friend Rae, who inspired me to make a thankful list.

My husband, who is working a graveyard shift right now in preparation for Black Friday at Target.

My family, that will be all together over one roof for dinner tomorrow.

This website

Creme Brulee


A Job.

A the ability to do what I love.

This Man. And his voice.

For My Friends...

I ache for my friends when they ache. Death is never an easy thing to deal with, it hurts. It hurts so bad and there isn't really a lot of comforting things to say when it happens. And it hurts. It feels like there is no hope and nothing good can come from it. And it hurts. When morning comes and your eyes are still red from crying the night before. And it hurts. School and work are not put on hold and the world moves on while you are in agony. And it hurts. It's okay to hurt. It's okay cry. It's okay to be broken. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Jesus said so.

think about it...

Little Things

Little drops of water,

Little grains of sand,

Make the mighty ocean

And the pleasant land.

Thus the little minutes,

Humble though they be,

Make the mighty ages

Of eternity.

Ebenezer Cobham Brewer

Agape Life

Pennsylvania beauty

"Agape doesn't love somebody because they're worthy.

Agape makes them worthy by the strength and power of its love.

Agape doesn't love somebody because they're beautiful.

Agape loves in such a way that it makes them beautiful."

Rob Bell

With that quote in mind, I'd like to say a few things. First, I love that my God has the ability to make me beautiful without having anything to do with my physical appearance. I love that lately, I've come to understand and accept myself on a lot of different levels. The concept of being comfortable in my own skin is attainable. I like who I am and who I am becoming.

Along with that, I also have understood how to think more of others. The fact that I think more highly of myself has enabled me to have a deeper rooted love for humanity. I want so much for others to understand they have value.

Unconditional love, Agape, is amazing. It's really remarkable that this love has no boundaries. It has no agenda. It does not love because of anything. I want to live this way. I want to create and give and have relationships and have no strings attached. This kind of love is authentic. Life is way too short to not live this way.

in love

If you were an ocean

I'd swim in your body

and dive in your love.

I'd splash with your laughter

and sink in your flood.

I'd wade in your patience

and float on your grace.

I'd sail on your current

to never leave your place.

If you were a tree

I'd climb up your branches

and sway with your leaves.

I'd glide with your twigs

and fall with your seeds.

I'd dig to your roots

and find your heartbeat

I'd hold it to mine

until our beats meet.

If you were a forest

I'd know all your secrets

and hide in your caves.

I'd dance down your paths

and rest in your maze.

I'd smell all your flowers

and eat your berries sweet.

I'd never be empty

because you make me complete.

Earth and Moon

My shadow casts itself upon the Moon making her appear smaller than she truly is. As I move, the Moon grows weaker. In her defense, it is all about the position she is in. She will never cover me up, I am too great. Her world revolves around mine, making me the most important. The Moon, her shapes and shadows so beautiful, will never be as breathtaking as me and my colors and mysteries. To the Moon I am everything.

I am alive! Living. Moving. Breathing. My breath is more important to the Moon than her own breath she breathes. My concerns concern her, my fears frighten her. In any situation, when I am well or distraught the Moon, she aches for me. She fears my need for her will dwindle to nothing.

Little does she know she is everything to me. Despite her small stature and lack of awe - she is what keeps me alive. She is my emotion, my dance. She pulls me in - captivating.

We are drawn to one another and she knows not. She is unaware of my need for her. If she were to grow wings and soar to another, well, I would end.

On the other hand, I know she needs me. I know her love, her deep rooted, unending love for me. And it fills my soul.

Sometimes I am afraid. Afraid the morning comes and evening never returns. I fear I'll never see the moon again. Never her piercing illumination in the darkness. Never her face on mine. Only the sun, what has the sun done for me? Nothing. Left me a desert. A barren womb - lifeless.

But the Moon. The Moon sings me songs no other could. Her voice is gravity.

A Case of the Mondays

I realized today that I get headaches fairly often, at least once a week. However, it was brought to my attention that the reoccurring headaches I get seem to always fall on a Monday. I'm not sure if this is entirely true every week, but it makes sense.

My only day off is Sunday so naturally Mondays are dreaded more than the other five days I work, not because I have more work on Monday, but because its just the beginning of a very long journey to the next day off.

Today's is particularly bad. And it technically started last night so this might not count as a "Monday-ache." I'm ready for this headache thing to subside...

Tomorrow is Tuesday, hopefully my body will understand it is not the day to have a headache. I guess I can schedule them for Mondays only, that would make my life a little easier.... If I have to have a headache, at least I would know it was coming.

frustrations with the legend

I shall meet the demand...

We watched a movie this week directed by Martin Scorsese called No Direction Home: Bob Dylan. This movie really got my blood pumping. It made me want to grab my guitar and play songs that make people think, make people want to live with purpose. How could one man write words and present them in a way so revolutionary? Its interesting to think, after watching this movie, Bob Dylan would have hated what I just said about him. He wanted never to be called a Revolutionary Figure, or The Face of his Generation.... He hated the silliness of his publicity.

This video makes me frustrated. Why couldn't he just play music he loved and let his viewers love it back? Why did he make himself so complicated? "I am not a folk singer." Come on Bob, yes you are! What other category does your music fall under?! And pa-lease! Do not tell me you don't care about your music. Words that come out of your mouth are beautiful and thought provoking, let us appreciate your work rather than question ourselves for admiring it. You frustrate me as a musician and writer.

Even though Bob Dylan doesn't ever admit he is passionate about his music, I believe he is deep down. Without passion how could he write what he writes? I have to think he cares to some extent and if he doesn't I can no longer listen to his music.

He said once, "What good are fans? You cannot eat applause for breakfast. You cannot sleep with it." I guess his cynicism kept him humble.

Regardless of his religious views, political standpoint, musical talent, or public limelight, Bob Dylan has a mind that I am curious about. So curious it keeps me up at night, and maybe that is his goal. He gets under my skin and torments me and makes me stand in awe all at the same time. I don't think there is a musician in history that could do the same thing Bob Dylan has done. Nevertheless, I think he is foolish to make such ridiculous statements to reporters while being interviewed.

Despite all the questions he raised during the sixties, I think we call all learn from Dylan's work.

How many times must a man look up

before he can see the sky?

How many ears must one man have

before he can hear people cry?

How many deaths will it take till he knows

that too many people have died?

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.

The answer is blowing in the wind.

Bob, I'll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours.

feelings

I feel...

I feel like I should have a baby because everyone is doing it. I feel like I don't want to have a baby, and therefore I'm not going to... at least for now. I also feel as if Christmas is almost overrated, and I say that mostly because I work in retail and there are a lot of selfish people out there. I feel like this time of year often brings out the worst in me, and I'm not sure why. Maybe because deep down I'm one of those selfish people just like the people I see in the mall. Or maybe because knowing some people won't have a Christmas tree or presents brings me down. Or perhaps I feel like Christmas has turned into a depressing marketing ploy and just a way for corporations to make money.

I find it interesting that the biggest shopping day of the year is the day after the day we are supposed to be thankful for everything we have. How ironic is that? We sit down to a wonderful table full of food, eat until we are stuffed, share why this year is great and we are so thankful for the roof over our head and the food the Lord has blessed us with and how "there is nothing more I could ask for at this moment than to be with these people in this place" and so on... then we wake up at four in the morning to get the best deals on things no one really needs. Or better yet, we stay up all night because some stores open at midnight.

What is wrong with us?

And sure, we can justify ourselves by saying all we get is socks and presents for other people. But really? Even if you are buying something for someone else you are still falling into the trap. The greedy "get the best deal" trap. And the reality is stores don't even have that many sales! Don't go to Forever 21 on Black Friday, the sale is crap. Things are shipped in specifically for that day with one price on them and a discount sign along with it so you think you are getting a deal, but you actually are getting the price you would get on any other day. They also get boxes of sale rack items from other stores sent to them so it looks as though everything was marked down for that day, however, they are just summer dresses no one would by in November. And I have no doubt that every other store does the same thing.

What a hoax!

I also feel like I wish I was a kid again and didn't have to know the sad truth about any of this stuff. I could just wake up Christmas morning with presents under the tree and the mystery of how it all happened. Unfortunately, we cannot return to those days. Instead, I'm stuck with knowing too much but I'll survive. I was encouraged to know that despite all the shoppers running around the day after Thanksgiving, there were a large handful of individuals I spoke to that avoided all sales that day. Praise God we didn't get sucked into consumerism!

So this Christmas avoid consumerism, get simple gifts, hug your mom and I guaranty she will be more thankful for that than the perfume you got on sale at Bath and Body Works. Some of the best gifts can't be unwrapped.

and I feel like that is what it is all about.