VooDoo.

"I'll do it..." he threatened, "I swear I will."

"Do what Kyle?" I asked.

"I'm going to voodoo her ass! Do unmentionable things to her."

"Kyle, what exactly does that entail?" I asked.

"You'll see..."

Boy, did I.

I'll do it tomorrow...

I have become, or should I say "I AM" (not referencing God, just caps), the bad catholic that comes to confession on a daily basis to confess the same "little" sin. 

I need to start to change today, because tomorrow will NEVER come.

And I will never say enough "hail marys" or "our fathers" to make something happen. They are just meaningless words. Change is what makes the difference. A 180 degree turn. 

What I want.

I want the blood running through my veins, not to be a preservative, but to be a violent powerful force beneath my skin.

I'm nowhere and you're everything...

Lately I haven't been able to write anything. I have a book, an entire book, of ideas. Every time I sit down to write one of these things from the book, I just realize I am not equipped to write them. I am not saying I suck at writing, but everything I try to write speaks of something I know nothing about.

 Usually when I write, I write about someone else's experience, but I have still experienced something similar, something I can familiarize myself with. I think many writers are totally capable of writing about things they have never experienced, but for some reason, I can't. 

I was listening to a song by Chris Thile, called "I'm nowhere and you're everything." Chris has one line that juts out at me when I listen to this song, "I tried to write this song before but had no one to write it for." This line reminds me of the feeling I have when an idea doesn't click. It's like all of these ideas are just premature, no lungs to breathe, haven't developed fully. Once it has time to mature more, inside of me, eventually it's time will come... and it will scream.

I do miss writing though. The pages of my journal beg for me to wet them with ink...

Hopefully all of ideas will mature soon, but until then, I will be patient.

Maybe spend the time learning how to write, ha ha.

 

When people sneeze...

It makes me feel like the Pope.

Bless you,
and you,
and you,
and you.

United State of Fear.

"It turns out you can't actually make yourself believe something if the doubts seem more likely."

Fear is everywhere in our lives. Or maybe not fear, but the creation of fear about the unknown. We are raised to fear the unknown. It is an effective tool to keep us away from questions or opposing knowledge. But it isn't just fear. For fear, by itself, is an ineffective tool.

The fear factor is used in many different areas of life. And an evolution that has come about in this process is the recognition of the nature of humans, curiosity. So instead of the old, "don't ask," mentality, it is now, "make sure you ask the right questions of the right people."
This makes us afraid to ask "stupid" questions and causes us to seek out the answers to our questions from people who are a part of this system.

The people who have this system figured out right now are the people of the Republican party. Don't get me wrong, a lot of the time they have the best interests of their people in mind, but, I think what began as a system of protection has turned into fear and ignorance. They make it seem as if everyone is against them and that everyone else is spreading lies. It creates a fear to question, but also it creates a team loyalty and purpose that, normally, is difficult to generate. When you feel that your "team" is being attacked, the normal reaction is defensiveness and protection. So by creating the feeling that your team always needs to be on defense creates the fighting for a cause mentality.

Let's pick up and fight on our own terms, not somebody else's.

The efforts weren't worth the time...

It sucks to realize that all the effort you put into the house you were building with someone was worthless, and that when they said, "change the paint, the paint is no good." They really were devising to leave, to leave you behind and take all of the effing furntiure.

Where would people never notice a town full of robots?

So I watched that movie "The Stepford Wives" with Nicole Kidman tonight, for the second time. I didn't really like it the first time I watched it, but this time I did. I had a conversation about marriage and relationships today with a friend and the movie totally related to those ideas! 

For those of you who haven't seen the movie (assuming anyone is reading this!) it is basically about husbands who feel trampled on by their overachieving wives and decide to therefore turn them into robotic slave companions. 

What really hit me the hardest was the "majority rule" that was being perpetuated throughout the movie. As new couples would enter the community the husbands would begin to reject the individuality and creativity of their partners based on what the norm was. They were being spoon fed the manly man's policy and were willing to sacrifice those dynamic difficult relationships with their spouses for easier ones. The reason I was so affected by it was that the majority isn't always headed in the right direction. I mean I knew this already, but it seemed so much clearer when I could visualize it. Sometimes I get wrapped up in the idea that 89.99% of all people can't be wrong... WHO KNOWS? Not only can I not trust those statistics, but have they tried every possible combo? There may not be a "right way" but assuming your idea is the best idea could be fatally stupid. I need to be open to new ideas, even if they defy what I consider to be human nature or even reasonable thought. I struggle with these issues. I want my "gut" feeling to be the right one, the one I can trust, but, even my gut can be influenced by culture and groupthink. Not saying that I can't usually trust my gut, but if someone provides a valid and well thought out argument I can't just ignore it because of a gut feeling, I need to educate myself.

It makes me wonder what oppressions I am overlooking. Once I begin to recognize that the Hijab on my head is cultural and not "human nature" it begins to open up my eyes to a reality beyond what's in front of me. I used to think that Feminism was a response to Chauvinism, but I think that is only when unchecked. There are clear level headed arguments that can be made and are worth a second look. 

I will probably realize I have more to say and or think about on this topic, but for now I bid you adieu!

Just yo piece of meat.

When will I stand up to guys who just want body warmth?

It might be flattering momentarily, until I realize that this guy, whoever THIS guy might be, is uninterested in my ideas or who I am. 

He is interested in body contact.

Boo you whore.

Cycle your way to the people. (Intentionally Corny)

So I have been doing this whole "bike" thing for the past week or so, riding just for the sake of riding, and I freaking love it. Other than the whole scary cars whizzing past and almost dying, it's really cool.

I notice that when I am riding I can make eye contact with other cyclists, pedestrians and even motorists. When I see other cyclists they give me the head nod that only someone that is a part of their REALLY cool club could get. And pedestrians? For some reason my club membership must be a double one because they seem equally excited to see me. Wherever I happen to be riding to, I always end up having a conversation with someone. It is really random most of the time, but I feel privileged. Today a guy struck up a conversation with me because he noticed my helmet and he was also rising that day. And then a few days ago when I went for lunch at Lee*s, an old man was stoked that I bought a baguette and was riding it home. When I am driving my car, this never happens! I am always the creepy one trying to talk to someone else.

Also, I can ride around the neighborhood and notice things I never noticed before. For instance, this street smells oddly like cat piss! That person has a GIANT sunflower draped over their entryway. All of this stuff is just a blurry mess when I am driving my car. Also unless I am down for a two hour bike ride, I am stuck staying nearby to do things, so now I am learning about new places and riding there to check them out.

I feel like one of those weird New Yorkers that writes zines about how bikes can change the world but so far that is where it ends, in no way has cycling made me an anarchist or a communist:)

But you never know...

Drool = Michael Phelps

DROOOOOL.... 

Heavy minds match heavy hearts.

For some reason I can't figure out how to start this... ISH.

I have so many things/scenarios/ideas running through my head. As Breanne would say, "Eff my life." 

Seriously, eff my life. 

The things I would like to write about in great detail are probably better suited for my journal, but I am closer to a computer, and I can be vague. 

Am I hurt because my pride was affected? Or am I just hurt because they were right? That I am transparent and they knew why I didn't want to hear all of that bad stuff. I feel like, if I let myself, I would imagine this to be some freaking Shania Twain moment where I am the one who was right and everyone missed out. People can change, people can be different. I know that is true, but the problem is I can't inspire that change. And, without enough time having gone by, it is unlikely that anything has changed. This is a lesson I can let myself learn the difficult way, or the easy way. The easy way may not seem easy but at least it will prevent major damage. At the same time I desperately want everyone to be wrong and for me to have discovered something great, something worth fighting for.

My stomach hurts the way it used to. Is this a freaking test? And if it is, I honestly don't know if I can pass. 

I think my stomach hurts thinking about all of the damage that has been done. All the damage that can't be undone. All the damage that is possibly underway right now. Why would someone sell themselves so short?

But then again, why would I sell myself short?

Seriously, EFF my life.

Death. Dust. Gone.

What is it about death that is so terrifying and yet so fascinating? The word visceral comes to mind. I just love that word. When I think of death, I think visceral. As often as I try to comprehend death, and life, and the in between, I find that when faced with actual death (even on a video), all I can do is feel this sour, wrenching feeling in my stomach, and the loss of control of my ability to look away. I suppose I could compare the feeling to the loss of bowel control during death. I even go so far as to desire to see the moment of death, and I feel betrayed when it is implied rather than shown. Then after it is over, I feel as if I have done a horrible thing, witnessed a personal moment, meant for that person, and God.

In Grizzly Man they don’t play the audiotape of Timothy’s death. I realize, that this is the only tasteful way to portray his life and his calling. I am glad they don’t share that moment with me. It allows me to focus on him, as human. At first, his arrogance and futility disgust me. Who is this man that he thinks he is saving the bears? The bears he follows and “lives with” are at a healthy population, even when you take into consideration the annual poaching. Timothy creates an imaginary world where he is the most courageous human to have ever walked the earth and has a perfect sense of what is right. He is God’s sole gift to bears and at times even to humans. He deceptively hides the fact that he cannot manage being alone for that long, not just by omitting the fact that a companion is with him, but by openly claiming his solitude. 

In truth, all humans share commonalities. I may not understand Timothy’s mindset, but honestly he would not understand mine, and quite possibly might just be equally as disgusted with me. It never fails to amaze me, the uniqueness of humans everywhere. I feel as if viewing the human race I can get a sense of God’s eternity. Like as if everything on earth living or not is meant to be a reflection of Him. That we can seek out representations of God’s qualities everywhere we look. I mean I know he created it all, so that might seem a little obvious, but sometimes I just need to look, and recognize it.

I can’t say I know why this affected me. Maybe it was the combination of the strange accent of the narrator and Timothy’s feminine yet crude words. Most likely his stubborn foolishness. 

In what ways is my life like that?

Setting Goals for the year...

I have always thought that setting new year's resolutions was ridiculous and just set me up for failure. But I have realized that having goals helps me accomplish things I never thought I could. This year I am finally setting goals that I can reach by composing each one with mini-goals that are easy to reach.
It is time to pull through on my promises and be a dependable person.

My goals for the year:
- Lose 10% of my body weight, starting out slow by adding workouts to my regular day, and being more conscious of my eating habits.
- Pay off my credit card bills and start saving money, I would like to have them paid off by the end of the year.
- Organize and start fixing and maintaining the house I live in. As much as I would like to move out and have roommates my own age, God has blessed me with a house and a loving Uncle and parents who support me. So I would rather begin to appreciate my surroundings and make them my own.
- Make time for God, this is the most important one. I wish I could dive in head first, but I want to make it a strong commitment not a flash in the pan.

For those of you who pray (and read this!) Pray that I can commit to these things and make them a part of my life and that I will become a Godly woman who can follow through on what I promise myself and others. God especially.

Happy New Year!!!

Katy

Hello Mr. Charismatic,

Praise God I have not ever had to deal with the disgusting men that are on the market, and the way they treat women.
Sometimes when I hear stories of treacherous relationships I just want to hide in a hole to avoid all men, or just never look at one ever again.
Some girls I know just came to the realization that they were all "exclusively" dating the same guy. He wines, dines, and beds all of them. They felt special and important and loved until they met one another. The worst part of this story is that all of them have to mask their true feelings. They have to pretend that they don't mind and that they can play the game just as much as him. But as much as they want to give him, "a taste of his own medicine" its sad to know that he can not be hurt in the same way he hurt them.
This is the kind of guy that causes girls to guard their hearts and not their modesty. They try to get revenge by sleeping with other guys when all they do is damage their self worth and their souls.

A nunnery sounds great right about now.

I have a hope for a greater love; when you know love as great as God's and learn more about it every day it becomes harder and harder to settle for someone even close to a mr. charismatic.
Girls, allow yourselves to be truly loved and cherished. A warm body isn't worth settling for.

Connectedness

Connectedness is the state of being connected. Being deeply intertwined with people and places, your roots twisting into theirs.
Lately I have been thinking about this. Thinking about how God made us to be in community, we are made to desire human interactions and those with nature as well. Being connected allows us to see the "me" in other people, allows us to stand back from a situation and think, "that could be me." And it is in those moments that we are opened to the opportunity to love. Love deeply and compassionately and recognize the image of God in other people. Just to get a glimpse of what God sees when he looks at us. What does it take for us to recognize that, to rise above selfish lust and desire and to just truly love. God-Love, unconditional. Loving someone as God's creation, not in spite of their problems.
All we want is to be truly accepted. Accepted and not ashamed. Imagine the amazing things we could do if we were loved like that. Nothing could stop us. We would be able to beat everything.

The covenant of love is such that it recognizes both the fragility and the sanctity of the individual. It recognizes itself in the other. It alone can save us.

Let me live like that. Let me love like that.