soul-etches_

if you're still tuned in...

2008-04-12T20:47:00.001-04:00

curtis-ho.blogspot.com

fun fun fun.

2007-12-13T20:27:00.001-05:00

i guess i shouldn't hide it any longer. i'm moving. this place has a lot of good memories, a lot of bad memories, and far too many apathetic ones. but it's served me well.

i suppose the new address is fairly obvious.

dear soul-etches. we've shared many a moment together, haven't we? from the first moment i created you with that tree-nature-green layout that everybody laughs at today, creating that faux bosox lineup, saving those journal entries...yeah. i'll still keep you around in remembrance of all you've done, if not for the memories. you've helped me learn a lot about myself.

i feel like i should say something inspiring. something that will give you the respect you've given me all these years. but all i can think of is...

thanks.

2007-11-26T20:14:00.001-05:00

WHAT THE EFF.

I don't know why I got so effing strung out about this. I have far more important things to think about. It doesn't mean it's not important...Wait. Yes, it does. It's not important to me, it's really not. And nothing will be amiss, either; I don't feel like getting lost within the horde of faces, so I'm not going to jump in. I'll be Scar for once, getting to watch others fall into the stampeding bison. Yeah, that'd be nice.

Go away. Good riddance.

Heh, kind of feels like an epiphany. I like the sound of crumpling paper.

-------------
Hide and Seek - Imogen Heap

Where are we?
What the hell is going on?
The dust has only just begun to fall,
Crop circles in the cockpit.
Sinking.
Feeling.

Spin me 'round again
And rub my eyes,
This can't be happening.
When busy streets, a mess with people,
would stop to hold their heads - heavy.

Hide and seek.
Trains and sewing machines.
All those years,
They were here first...

Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before the takeover,
The sweeping insensitivity of this
Still life...

Hide and seek.
Trains and sewing machines,
(Oh, you won't catch me around here)
Blood and tears,
(Hearts)
They were here first.

Mmm what'd you say?
Mmm that you only meant well?
Well, of course you did.
Mmm what'd you say?
Mmm that it's all for the best?
Of course it is.
Mmm what'd you say?
Mmm that it's just what we need,
And you decided this.
Mmm what'd you say?
Mmm what did she say?

Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth,
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs,
Speak no feeling, No i don't believe you,
You don't care a bit,
You don't care a bit.

------------

the draining communion cup.

2007-11-06T21:48:00.000-05:00

i think it's about time i went home. i don't know where or why this has suddenly overcome me, but i get the feeling of broken-ness. but i don't think this is the kind of broken-ness for God. this just feels like plain being borked every which way to the point i feel like...like i don't know anymore. to a point unknown. and it's not one of those "i can't deal with it any longer so i'm going to kill myself" kinds of broken-nesses, but more of a "i can deal with it, i just don't know how to" which, in my opinion, is far worse because then you have to live with the stupid thing and not know a) what's wrong, and b) how to fix it.

but that's only a half truth. i know what's wrong and i know what needs to be fixed. i think he's trying to get my attention again, and in a big way by using such little things. i dream these dreams to make these attempts only to have them fail, so i can realize that what i'm chasing is fruitless. and what are the odds the one cup i picked was draining itself?

i know i haven't blogged in a while, but it's always been in the back of my mind. i think subconsciously i avoided blogging so the few people who did spend a few minutes of their day to read my posts would stop doing so. not because i didn't like them reading, but because i always felt a little dishonest when blogging because i could never really get at what i felt or wanted to say without being struck by the fear of what those readers would think of me.

even now that fear still strikes. what if they, on the off chance, decided to check on this page and read again? should i say "please don't come here anymore" or disable the page entirely, or start saving everything as drafts? no, because if people care enough to visit this page and read, then i guess i shouldn't deny them nor reject them for their troubles.

sigh (and i actually sighed there; it's more than a convention of speech, you know).

all of this envy and jealousy and longing and regret and hoping-for-what-might-be and plain overall THIS SUCKS is just. everywhere. as of an hour ago. maybe it's the people. i won't try to pretend they're good influences; some of them are downright bad, but most of them are simply...neutral. but that could be even more dangerous because the complacency and apathy rubs off on me, and i grow stagnant. as i said earlier today during a nice lunch with two others, "i'm just...sitting."

these people. they are so amazing, so wonderful, so beautiful, so filled-to-the-brim-they-can't-hold-it-in, so blessed, and what a wretch am i. this feeling is so striking, so very jarring down to the depths, beyond the frayed edges of who i appear to be, tearing through the fabric and cloth of the facades i have spun to keep it all in. the angst, the sorrow, the weeping, the dead.

am i fighting the good fight? am i running the good race? am i keeping the faith? i think i've been down on the ground, resigned to wait for the count to reach ten. i think i've stopped running and resorted to walking the rest of the distance. and i don't think i am. what a waste i've become; fourteen years of christian schooling and this is who i am. a lump of flesh and bone, of dust and blood combined, given the divine breath to breathe and to live and to...squander it all upon NOTHING. NOTHING AT ALL. everything i've accrued has amounted to nothing.

and that is the deepest despair of all. everything i have gained is nothing, because i have gained nothing. "the car went nowhere because there was nowhere to go."

i don't sleep anymore. i dream, which is infinitely worse than sleeping, because i do not control the world in which i dream, and where the yearnings of my subconscious are brought to life, the fears of my subconscious are given life. and when i wake, the greatest feeling of loss overwhelms me because in the few seconds i sit upright in my bed, breathing quickly with my heart racing, i come to realize it was all just a dream. none of it was real. the people i loved, the people who loved me, the things i did, the things that happened, none of it was ever real, except for in my head.

i don't expect anybody to understand because i don't expect anybody to read this. and if somebody were to read this, i wouldn't expect you to understand this anyway even though you say you might, because each person's broken-ness is different. how can the broken cup say to the broken vase "i know how you feel" when they were composed entirely differently? each had its own shape, its own purpose, its own life, so how can the cup understand the vase whatsoever? it can't, simple as that. it can pretend to, it can try, but it won't. ever.

i don't mean this to be a sad, pour-your-guts-out post. i intended this to be an honest, true-to-heart post. uncensored - well, not completely - truth. and like i said to someone a few weeks ago, "lol i thought you knew me =P i don't get happy endings, remember? i'm the guy who gets the okay ending." and i find that to be quite true. i'm not trying to be pessimistic (but maybe i am anyway), but if you ask me how i'm doing, much more often than not i'll reply with "okay" or "alright" (ad nauseum), and hardly ever a "good" or "great". i'm the black knight, holding the last piece of the princesses' heart to always ensure it will remain forever safe and unharmed.

------
done to 'see right through me' by mobile.

the hand stretched out over infinity, yet failed to grasp naught but tendrils of hair seeping quickly in between his fingers. the blood was pumping through his ears, causing a symphony of crashes and cries and a cacophony of weeping and sorrow all combined into one beautiful yet tragic song. the emptiness inside his gut, the pounding of his head, the heaving of his chest, how much time had passed, and how much time did he have left? too much, too little, and yet all the time in the world.

everything froze.

he saw her as she was, her eyes glistening with the tears of lost hope as her own hand flailed outwardly towards his own. in this halted eternity time could not touch, their fingertips brushed and their teardrops let fly sparkled in the rushing winds. and then time returned, doubling its efforts and causing it all to move twice as fast.

his mouth opened and lips moved, shouting words only she would ever hear as they were lost within the cavernous expanse. she was growing farther and farther away, slipping away into the sheets of the vast unknown. her eyes hid themselves, shut tight with teeth clamped down upon a lip as her hand made a final stretch. he struggled to connect over the boundless gap, his fingers stretching and pushing closer and closer...

he fell for a long time. and yet he could not help but let the hot tears fly as he listened to her song trailing behind him.

2007-09-12T18:15:00.000-04:00

wow, consecutive. i haven't done that in a while. probably because then i forgot about the post previous and how important that was for me to get down. and then i think, maybe i should just hit the EDIT button.

it is time for me to see with eyes unclouded by things like hope, things like hate, things of love, and things of legend. do such things actually exist, or are they simply abstract concepts thrashing about somewhere in the world behind the eyes? perhaps they are not so much veils over the windows as they are smudges of dirt, so that even when there is nothing to block the light, the silhouettes and shadows still appear imperfect. but yes, i have rid myself of such things, there is no more doubt behind the eyes. and in doing so, i have enabled myself to see beyond my own sight, to know things that i could not have known before, for it is because of the children of hate, the wellsprings of hope, the flushes of love, and the heroes of legend that i become derailed from my original purpose: to see without obstruction. time, a mistress more fickle than fortune herself, reveals all things as she pleases, less merciful than her wizened father before her (renowned, i am told) in choosing the moments to deliver revelation. this epiphany of seeing as i have never seen...it must be godsend, for lady time would have taken an eternity to bestow it upon my brow.

it is time for me to see, for the first time of my life.

don't ask where i got that from.

2007-09-11T12:56:00.001-04:00

so i had this post that was seriously long 'cause i was cramming everything i had been feeling lately into it, but realized that some people might have gotten offended because i mentioned specific names. okay, well not SPECIFIC names. but names that would have been recognizable to those who are "in the know". and when i thought about it some more, i came to the conclusion that the post should be taken down - or never been posted in the first place - because i am no one to judge. i have neither the right nor the place to comment (read: SLANDER) others, no matter how frustrated i may have been feeling at the time. i was simply annoyed because i was trying to read a book for one of my courses at the time...and all the person could do was whine.

so yeah.

what am i left with now? absolutely nothing. when i went to bed yesterday i was thinking, the kind of thinking that i HATE because i always get left with the short end of the stick, about myself and my relationships with a few other people, one in particular. and it dawned (or dusked? har har) on me: i am nothing special in anybody's eyes. not including His, of course, because everybody is equally loved, equally special in His eyes.

but in terms of THIS world. i am nothing special. nothing out of the ordinary. in fact, i'm probably fairly mediocre in many standards. i am flawed (well, that's assumed). i am imperfect (ditto). and then i remember Bean, the little boy from rotterdam who had to make his own way around. julian delphiki, an illegal experiment to turn anton's key and thus produce an amazing level of genius. he was given the name Bean because, the first time he tried to really go anywhere, another boy stated about him scornfully (excuse my french),

"he ain't worth a damn bean."

to which bean replied,

"am so."

and from then on his name was Bean. everybody thought he would amount to nothing, that the tiny runt of a child would die of starvation because, as poke observed, he was not one scared of death or running from it, because death was already in him. and yet little Bean, the boy who everybody thought never would be, became everything he could be. and more. yet somehow i don't have that bright of an outlook for myself. i don't know where i'm going. unlike Bean, i truly am nothing special. Bean was simply coated in a layer of soot that, eventually, he shook himself of to reveal the gleaming silver beneath. for me, though, all there is under the soot is a lump of coal.

i am nothing special. so why does He care about me? why does He love me the way only He can? if i am nothing special, why do i matter to Him? why did He take the time to create every cell in my body, to know how many hairs are upon my head? as nothing special, i deserve nothing from Him. maybe this is what the woman at the well felt like. she had figured herself to be nothing, yet here came Christ, willing to get to know her and offer her life everlasting.

to be loved is to be known and to be known is to be loved.

it's a profound statement, even if i thought that the video used that line way too much so that it lost its effect around three quarters of the way through. i am nothing special, yet He loves me and knows me, and even if He didn't love me, He would want to love me. even if He didn't know me, He would want to know me. He would start to love me. He would get to know me. and it's boggling as to why.

...woah. it's not so much an epiphany as it is a random realization, but...woah. modernity. the phenomenon of industrial life. modernity. the mother who gave birth to therapeutic culture. therapeutic culture. the curative to the feelings of paranoia. that really, we are insignificant and small.

i need a cottage to go to. or maybe a park. or maybe...just a good book.

2007-09-03T22:03:00.000-04:00

can we at least be honest now?

...no, i don't think so. not yet, anyway. not entirely, maybe not ever. but i can still hope, right?

make you smile.

2007-08-17T13:23:00.001-04:00

plus44.

the last time i saw you, you turned away.
i couldn't see with the sun shining in my eyes.
i said hello but you kept on walking.
i'm going deaf from the sound of the freeway.
the last time i saw you, you turned away.
i couldn't hear with your voice ringing in my ears.
do you remember where we used to sleep at night?
i couldn't feel you, you're always so far away.

the first time i saw you, you turned away.
i couldn't see you with the smoke getting in my eyes.
i said hello but you kept on walking.
i'm going deaf from the sound of the deejay.
the first time i saw you, you turned away.
i couldn't hear with the noise ringing in my ears.
do you remember where we used to sleep at night?
i couldn't feel you, you're always so far away.

i don't, don't want to take you home.
please don't, don't make me sleep alone.
if i could, i'd only want to make you smile.
if you want to stay with me a while.

the next time i see you, you'll turn away.
i'll say hello but you'll keep on walking.
the next time you see me i'll turn away.
do you remember where we used to sleep at night?
i couldn't feel you you're always so far away.

i don't. don't want to take you home.
please don't. don't make me sleep alone.
if i could. i'd only want to make you smile.
if you want to stay with me a while.

2007-08-08T16:53:00.000-04:00

i know. it's awesome. what makes it even more so is the fact that i actually made it.
[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

[SPOILER ALERT]

2007-07-21T21:35:00.000-04:00

spoiiiiiilers.

r.i.p. mad-eye/dobby/fred/lupin/tonks and...snape? :(

2007-07-14T18:49:00.000-04:00

i feel like i should be making a post but every time i try i get stuck with nothing to write about.

slingers are the new jays. INJURIES ABOUND.

2007-06-20T00:21:00.000-04:00

this isn't the life i dreamed about.
this isn't how i envisioned it.
this isn't what i wanted things to be like.

but i've realized that a lot of things in my life tend to not pan out quite so well. i've also come to realize a few things about myself.

- i'm fairly easy to frustrate and annoy.
- i'm far too indecisive for my own good.
- i haven't really changed myself for the better as a person.
- i've certainly degenerated from what i used to be.

i was looking through old albums of pictures and collections of records from the past that my family had stored and i came across my elementary school report cards. mrs harris wrote:

curtis is a brilliant student, but does not do any more work than is necessary. he often does only what is required unless encouraged to do more.

and let me be the first to tell you, i'm EXACTLY like that to this day. i abhor doing more than what somebody asks for. my parents also stored away notes they had taken from a parent-teacher interview night in the courses i was struggling with in grade eleven...all of the teachers said that i had the potential to be an 80s, even a 90's student if i just applied myself to the material instead of being satisfied with simply coasting on a passing grade. mind you, i graduated with an 82 average, so it's not like i was bombing everything, but all of my teachers believed that i was capable of so much more. but i think i'd already convinced myself that i wasn't able to become that 90s kind of student.

i continued flipping through the album and came to a new, more interesting document. it was the results of an IQ test i took when i was a mere eight years of age. in all of the tested subjects (object testing, vocabulary, comprehension, math, and so on), i was in the 95th or 96% percentile, developing at a "superior rate" (direct quote, not trying to brag), and possessed an IQ of 127 points - 23 shy of "genius". looking at that, i think you'll agree with me when i say that when i was eight years old, i had a HECK load of potential. but i never really did anything with it.

curtis was unusually proper. he kept his hands folded neatly on the desk and politely answered the questions when asked. after about an hour of testing he finally became more animated and curious, and began to "push" the boundaries. for example, in the object testing, he would take one of the pieces and hide it in his hands, returning it only when nicely asked to do so.

is that who i used to be? i should probably go sleep now so i'll finish this train of thought some other day.

2007-06-05T18:57:00.000-04:00

"hey curt?"
"mhm?"
"what's your belief on the idea of 'soul mates', that there's only one person out there for you?"

when you asked that, you had no idea how ironic the question was, nor the flood of memories it brought back through my head.

2007-05-12T12:53:00.000-04:00

i've been having some VERY enjoyable dreams lately where i truly wish that was how the way things were in real life. but the crappiest part of good dreams - as you already know - is when you wake up and realize...it was only a dream.

when people wake from their dream-filled slumber, it is not the regret of what could have been that plagues them, nor the disappointment of what isn't. it is the dread of what is that beleaguers them.

click on it to make it larger

2007-04-14T14:51:00.000-04:00

DISCLAIMER: i do not necessarily agree with all of these rules ie. number 30 =P, though i am heartily amused by number 29 and am drawn to agree

i guess i should clarify.

2007-04-09T00:30:00.001-04:00

worst birthday ever. but a chill birthnight made it end okay.

2007-04-07T17:33:00.001-04:00

my PS2 broke. this is the worst birthday ever.

diagnose me please.

2007-04-01T15:47:00.000-04:00

i've been feeling a little off colour lately. it started with:

-headaches
-lightheadedness
-a single occurrence of vomitting
-->i think it was just stomach acid since it felt like my throat was burning

and was then joined, for a short period, by:

-the sensation that something was lodged in my throat
-constriction in the chest

after that dissipated, i went back to:

-headaches
-lightheadedness
-an almost ethereal 'spinning' feeling

and last night:

-i couldn't sleep until 7 am
-my stomach feels...strange. not an ache, but just...weird.
-difficulty in focusing without the 'spinning' feeling returning

-----

i just need to make it past tuesday and i'll be fine. just til tuesday and this research paper. i don't have time to feel sick, i just don't have the luxury to stay in bed anymore.

2007-03-28T15:32:00.000-04:00

growing up, i've always been taught the differences between right and wrong, and that you should always do the right thing even if it means you get hurt in the process. every day we're surrounded by that lesson; look at today's modern superheroes. most of them sacrifice themselves to protect others for no apparent reason besides their set of morals (unless you're the hulk and have returned from the gladiator planet and want to destroy earth, that promises to be pretty sick...BLACK BOLT?!). but...is that what makes a hero? their abilities aside, their morals are exactly what separates them from the villians, right? yet in life, things are rarely ever black and white...

and yes, enter the wondrous shades of grey. they make life so complicated because in the end, though your intentions may have been stark white, you end up compromising to please as many people as possible, speckling the white with spots of black. does this condemn us to a life of mediocrity? and by that i mean a life where we are always bound to the dull grey or glossy black, never to be hinted at the lustrous white? it seems a little depressing when you look at it that way...but then there's the lion king. yes, i said it. the lion king. now, let's pretend there are no hidden sexual innuendos and messages in the movie and focus on one particular scene: mufasa's mystical return from beyond the grave to speak to simba as a figure of the clouds.

"father, i don't know what i'm supposed to do!"
"my son. remember who you are."

and that speaks to me in so many ways. sure i may have paraphrased it but it sounds right in my head. but so many nights now i lie in bed after doing devotions and pray, asking God to tell me how to live the way. my current devotional study is going through how your heart and your mind have to be in perfect synchronization. the corresponding analogy is about the mountain deer, and how it runs. you see, when a mountain deer is bounding from stone to stone, the hind hooves will always land precisely - never more than a few millimeters - where the front hooves were, because then it is assured a solid, dependable surface from which to propel off of. and that is like the human heart and mind, how if even one is off an inch...we will fall from the heights of spirituality. the book spoke of several examples, one of them being the mother of amaziah in chronicles 25:2. amaziah followed the Lord's commands and destroyed the edomites...but then brought their gods back home and began to worship them. while in mind he may have committed himself to God, his heart spoke otherwise.

so where am i taking this? i never seem to know until i reach the end. yeah. remember who you are. remember who i am. who am i?

my name is curtis, and i was born into a christian family with a mother and a father and two older sisters. i lived in 4 osmund court with a big backyard and even a swingset to play on. there was once a flower garden in the backyard as well, but my father ended up covering it with turf. there was a crab apple tree i would pick the fruit from and throw them through the hole in the corner fencing down a hill. i loved the ninja turtles while my sisters loved rainbow bright. i once cheated on the extra math homework my mother gave me and was eventually caught and had to do it all over again. i broke the glass light fixture because i was playing baseball indoors. there was a secret room in the sub-basement where i would always hide during games of hide-and-go-seek. i remember during a big dinner i called everyone to the front foyer where i stood on top of the stairs before somersaulting forward and rolling like a cannonball down said steps...and hit the wall. i used to race around the court on my ninja turtles bike pretending i was in the grand prix formula one races...until one day i turned too sharply and fell over, sliding a few feet and getting scraped all over. i quit biking then.

i attended peoples christian academy happily until my family had to move because my eldest sister was gifted and was accepted into earl haig. our house was not in the district, so we moved to one that was. it was hard to leave my home because it was the one. not too big, but not too small either. my new home was a semi-detached, extremely cramped but it wasn't too bad. for the first time in four years i began biking again...until i accidentally rammed into a car. i quit biking again. i remember when my cousins sold their house and moved in with my family until they could procure a new one. i shared my small room with my older cousin chris. while i would plop down in front of my ancient computer and play commander keen, chris would go to the basement to his faster one and play 3d deer hunting and watch joecartoons and grampa grumble. yes, i won't forget that time because that was when i realized how things were so different. his family had a family devotions time every night in which they talked over their day and prayed for each other. did my family do that? no. my father was gone for work before i woke up and came back after i was asleep. in essence, i had no father. whenever i think back upon life at 33 bessarion road, i never remember too much because the years felt so hollow.

i moved again. 185 mckee avenue. not exactly a mansion but indubitably quite the large abode. i'm proud of this home, not for its size but because what i have accomplished in it. i discovered the evils of the internet and fought against it in my own personal life. i struggled with my spiritual life and came to know many other believers who would always grant me advice and friendship. i came to terms with having grown up lacking the influence of a father and saw how i resented the shabby relationship. i almost committed suicide - multiple times. there are a lot of things that i am not proud of, yet i should be because i defeated them. and the things i still deal with today are things i know God is stationed at my back. i still grow frustrated at my father much of the time, and i still have problems with my temper and trying to deal with the faults of others. i can be rather unforgiving when i choose to be, yet i know that i should be forgiving even if i would choose not to be. yet i do not despair because i remember who i am and where i came from. peoples christian academy provided me an excellent place to develop as a person in Christ, offering me the spiritual support when i needed it the most. it may not be the most luxurious nor grandiose of educational facilities, but it is one of the best if you choose to make the most of it.

so even if i'm trapped in a world of grey, i know what should be done because i remember who i am. my name is curtis and i am a loved and blessed child of God, the Father clothed in most brilliant white. does this mean that i'll be perfect? no, far from it, because no matter how much white you add to a pre-existant mixture of grey, that colour will never return fully to white once again. but i can try because that should be my goal in life: to become more like Christ. so to you, you who are unsure of what to do when thrust into situations where everything seems grey...remember who you are and the values that were ingrained in your heart at birth. remember the Father who sent His son down to die for you so that you could live forever. remember the man who was mounted on two planks of wood and mocked for hours until he died, remember how he did it all for you. and then stop and think. is the choice you're about to make worthy of that sacrifice? don't make an empty decision your heart does not support, otherwise you would not have chosen at all. if you swear to follow Christ in your mind but do not fully support it with your heart, then nothing will come of it.

"Although the mind is important, the heart is even more important because that is the engine room of our personality - the part from which comes our drive and motivation. That is why our Lord says, 'Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.'"

so what am i trying to say...i guess it would be this: don't compromise who you are in Christ for who you want to be in the world. and until you are truly ready to be for Christ, examine yourself to synchronize your heart and your mind. otherwise, you'll quickly find, as i have, that it's just not worth it.

2007-03-09T21:18:00.001-05:00

i'm reading old posts of mine and wondering how i came up with the inspiration for such self-thought provoking statements. and in all honesty i should not be on blogger at this exact moment in time seeing as i have one biology 023 examination on the morrow's morn. despite knowing of the exam's impending wrath, i actually took the time to watch Stranger Than Fiction (will ferrel) earlier this afternoon. earlier on in the film i actually laughed out loud a smidgeon, only to be awed at the author's revelation near the end:

"why did you change the book?"
"lots of reasons. i realized i just couldn't do it."
"because he's real?"
"because it's a book about a man who doesn't know he's about to die. and then dies, but if the man does know he's going to die and dies anyway...dies...dies willingly knowing he could stop it, then..i mean, isn't that the type of man you want to keep alive?"

and i was like...wow. actually, i had this whole summary typed out but decided it'd be better if you went and watched the movie rather than read it. the movie is much more powerful that way...and funny - not russel peters funny, but hey-the-politician-made-a-joke-we-should-probably-laugh-as-to-not-make-him-feel-awkward funny -. in a good sense, if that's possible. and the question of the moment arises: if you knew when and how and that you were going to die, would you still go through with it? because in harold crick's case, he had no choice. after he reading the outline's ending, he pressed it to her and insisted that she finish it that exact way. he 'had to die' or else the book would have been meaningless. hillbert told him that someday, inevitably he would die...but if it wasn't now, it wouldn't be as meaningful or poetic. and now i wonder whether or not i'd still march headlong through life knowing full well i was going to die on a certain day through a specific method if it meant to serve a greater purpose. the charge of the light brigade, for those of you who have read it (i did back in grade eight since we all had to memorize poems, c.o.t.l.b. was mine), comes to mind. they stampeded right into the foe courageously, recklessly, without abandon. many of them ran right into their deaths but did so willingly, without resistance.

if my purpose in life were to die for a greater calling, would i be strong enough to follow through? and i'm not going to pick and choose deaths here because most people would say yes so long as it was a quick and painless death (aversion to painful deaths, you know you have it too). but here i'm going with quick and painless or slow and excruciating, it could be either. would i still do it?

-----

"the only thing that can stand up to the will of a father is the love of a mother."

-----
when we collide we lose ourselves
when we collide we break in two
and as we push and we shove and we hurt the ones we love
and it's a hard mistake
when we collide (we break).

how far are people willing to go for happiness? please do not consider 'happiness' and 'joy' interchangeable because i believe that they are not, but that's another topic entirely. how far would you go for happiness? i'm not even going to elaborate on that question because something else has come up while talking to a friend.

february 24, 2:11 PM
Hey u still wanna come to the cottage thursday night to sat night? Looking at having a guys weekend with stu sarit billy zac my uncle and his buddys will be down the river too always a good time

now, i have absolutely no clue to the identity of this mysterious person who is looking at a guy's weekend with stu, sarit, billy, and zac, with his uncles and his buddies down the river. however, at the time i was feeling a little uppity and rambunctious, so i replied
sure, is it ok if i bring my cousin bill too?

february 24, 2:16 PM
Wicked if your bro wants to come as well no worries

and if you know me, you'll know i have neither a cousin bill nor a brother. feeling a little guilty and not wanting to draw out the facade any longer (despite encouragements from friends in the car with me), i sent back
Sorry man i was just screwing with you you have the wrong number

to which i have not received a response ever since. i consider it the best 30 cents i have ever spent.

2007-02-27T12:54:00.000-05:00

have you ever looked back into your life and realized "......how did i not see how good i had it?" because seriously, i'm doing that a lot right now. i mean, i always manage to mess up some of the best things in my life because...i either couldn't commit, or i over-committed too quickly. both are equally bad because ______________________________________________________. and now i think i'm committing too quickly again, feeling a little awkward, and reminiscing about how things were back in grade nine, ten, eleven, twelve, and the summer before first year. i had things awesome then - a great school, great friends, ______________, great softball team...and now, i'm in a good school, with great friends, __________________, and looking forward to a new great softball team. so...why am i feeling so retrospective suddenly? i'm constantly remembering/seeing things the way they were and killing myself over the way things could be.

oh well. there's nothing to be done about the past except learn from it.

right now i'm feeling like my life is a movie, and it's that point where the guy realizes how badly he screwed up...gets in his car...it doesn't start, so he gets out and starts running. he just runs and runs and runs and dodges traffic and jumps through hoops just to get to where he needs to be. and when he gets there, the car is already pulling out of the driveway and he bangs on the windows and waves his arms wildly. the car stops and he's just standing there. time seems to stop because he needs to express everything he needs to express in the next two or three sentences...or the chance is gone forever and isn't coming back.

i don't know what i'm supposed to say.

yeah, it's a random feeling, but that's what came out.

SOS

2007-01-30T19:52:00.000-05:00

what can i say? the last twenty four hours haven't exactly been the most enjoyable. it's left me wondering when the universe will get around to checking the scales of balance, to make sure that everybody's good and bad are weighing out correctly.

joy. to be joyful in all circumstances. why is that so hard? all i've felt were scared and wronged. i find it hard to be seeking joy when my heart is racing and i'm hearing crunching footsteps in the salt coming from behind me, for whatever purpose. i find it hard to be seeking joy when i'm standing in front of my professor, attempting to defend my point that i'm not a cheater, nor did i help someone else cheat. high school friends are working on exams, while my fellow first years are trying to keep up with the high standards of certain programs. i get that feeling, like i'm completely frozen in time and everybody else is racing on around me. i wonder how Jesus felt in the garden of gethsemane, knowing that He'd be sacrificed for people who weren't even worth a second of His time. it would be like a destitute beggar, offering the last morsel of food he owned to rats, so that they could survive when he starved to death. except the human race is infinitely worse than rodents. how did Jesus manage to find joy in that predicament? as He was sweating blood, had He joy? as He bore His wooden cross along the streets, had He joy? as He hung upon the tree, watching as soldiers gambled for His garments, a crown of thorns placed upon His brow and a mocking sign placed above Him...had He joy? i would assume so, but...how is that humanly possible? that's where God comes in, isn't it, when things that are impossible by our standards become not only possible, but achieved.

i'm not going to lie to you, i'm tired...and it's a weariness that goes down to the soul. this lethargy is one i'm familiar with. certainly not a friend, but too common to be an enemy at this point. it's like watching a flame, slowly melting the candle into nothing but wax, flickering upon the wick. occasionally somebody passes by to give it a blow, and the flame dances and lessens. sometimes the flame dies down to nothing but a few glowing embers, barely managing to spark back to life.

i don't know where i'm going with this one either.

bits and pieces

2007-01-30T00:23:00.000-05:00

On my knees, dim lighted room, thoughts free flow, try to consume myself in this. I'm not faithless, just paranoid of getting lost or that I might lose. Ignorance is bliss, cherish it; pretty neighbourhoods, learn too much to hold. Believe it not, and fight the tears with pretty smiles and lies about the times. A year goes by, and I can't talk about it. The times weren't right, but I couldn't talk about it. Romance says goodnight, close your eyes and I'll close mine. Remember you, remember me, hurt the first, the last, between? And I'm praying that we will see something there in between, then and there that exceeds all we can dream, so we can talk about it.

And all these twisted thoughts I see Jesus there in between.
-----

so now i'm left with a single post it on my wall, with the phrase "what is the central problem?" the note serves a dual purpose, firstly to get me thinking about where i want to go with my story, and secondly...it makes me look at myself and really think...why do i feel this way? and the first thing that comes to my mind is, "yeah. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ and _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _". for those of you who are a little confused, those are two people who i wish not to name. but...the problem goes deeper than those two, doesn't it? "I'm not faithless, just paranoid of getting lost or that I might lose." like any other normal person, i hate losing. i abhor having...having to be a clark kent. if you don't watch smallville, i guess you won't understand my underlying message.
Season Five. Episode Twelve. Twenty three minutes, twelve seconds. Twenty three minutes, nineteen seconds.
and you know, with each and every passing moment, i'm left in the boots (or perhaps in his case, polished dress shoes) of one oliver queen. "this is it, isn't it? the moment i'm going to regret for the rest of my life." but i don't think i'm ever going to get an answer, because by that time the moment has passed. any regrets would be pointless. so the question quickly becomes, "how do you know?" the realization of "you can't" immediately arises, but that can't be true, can it? there has to be some way one can be certain. but perhaps you truly never can know, and that's where reliance upon God's plan for you comes into effect; trusting him with every facet of your life, not just some of them. yet that's only the first half, because after asking Him, there needs to be a reply...and catching the reply, that's what is so difficult, because humans are bad at listening. and even if we do manage to pick out God's answer amidst a sea of static and white noise of society, we have an even harder time to obey what we've been given if it doesn't meet up to our expectations.

so is that the problem of the human race? we don't ask, and when we do, we don't listen for an answer, and when we do, we expect it to be what we want, and when it is, we sing and rejoice and praise God, and when it isnt...well, is that where joy comes into the equation? to be joyful in all circumstances. does that mean we laugh and sing at every unfortunate happening in our lives? no, but we appreciate the situation and what God is trying to teach us, right? by nature, we don't smile and cry with happiness when a close family member passes away. no, the tears are of sadness and mourning, yet can't we thank God and be joyful that He blessed us with that one person?

so now it's boiled down to joy. great, the one thing i happen to struggle with. i remember quite vividly, sitting in room 101 (the lab for all you nonpcaers) on one of the tables. my teacher/friend was on the table opposite, conversing with me and instructing me. i also recall the biblical excerpt she told me about, how joy comes from God...and how one man sought the glory of God, but He knew that His glory would be too great. so God placed the man within a cleft of a mountain, and let him see a small portion of His glory, and that man was so overcome by joy. true, unadulterated joy. and then we prayed that God show me His glory, that i be placed so that i could catch sight of the tiniest bit of His robe, of His presence, so the joy be lit within my life. for the next little while, i prayed earnestly that God show me His glory, for the joy and passion for Him be rekindled. but not all stories have happy endings, neh? after a while, those prayers just...faded. i guess i was happy for a while, yet we all know how fickle happiness can be. how fleeting its nature is. but if that's true, then why do so many people remain seeking it out? a friend of mine once said that perhaps happiness was not something meant for her in her life, that happiness would not be something she lived for. initially, i was a little taken aback and thought, '...now THAT has to be a tad bleak'. but the more she debated with someone else upon the topic of happiness and life goals, it dawned upon me how similar i was with her. i shouldn't be striving for happiness either, that happiness should be a byproduct of things that i do, but not my primary goal. my desires should be to help others, to spread a little light into their lives...and if that brings me a little happiness as a result, then that's great. however, happiness should never be on my list of top priorities, because maybe...maybe happiness just isn't worth it.

i really don't know where i went with this.

maud - no, not the flanders, the real maud.

2007-01-09T22:17:00.000-05:00

Half the night I waste in sighs,
Half in dreams I sorrow after
The delight of early skies;
In a wakeful dose I sorrow
For the hand, the lips, the eyes,
For the meeting of the morrow . . .
-Tennyson

so it's been two days since i've returned to western, and i'm finding that really. there's no place like home. i mean, yeah we get a lot more freedom in university, but really, i'd take the comfort of home and family over the ability to do things when and how i want them...because really, in the end, what can be more important than the people who raised you and brought you up to be who you are today? friends, no matter how close you think they may be, can fade, but family will always be there. if you don't want to be someone's friend, you can just stop chilling with them. but no matter how far you go, your mother will always be your mother, your father your father, and your sibling your sibling.

...just wanted to get that off my chest.

on sleepless roads the sleepless go.

2007-01-04T09:13:00.000-05:00

old movies can be so good, you know? especially ones with good soundtracks, and that movie had an awesome soundtrack. sure, maybe not emotionally powerful like orchestral movements in epics, but just...one you can sit and listen to, and not be annoyed by any of the songs. at least, for me anyway.

--
the jagged cliffs were worlds apart, and as the small company stood before it, they couldn't help but feel both awed and despaired. they couldn't go back, yet this impassable hindrance barred them further passage. to come so close to their goal, yet be denied! freedom, peace, and everything good was just on the other side, but no physical labour, no ethereal magick could aid them now. the only thing available to them now was the tedious process of sitting and waiting for the end to come, in whichever form it would take. a few hours still remained before [they] would catch up, leaving [them] with time to think upon what could have been. they'd travelled such a long, arduous path in hopes of [changing everything], and they had almost made it; and that was what broke the spirit so mercilessly. only having glorious victory stolen from their grasp could fatigue the soul in a way that went right into the core. to be so weary one felt hollow and emptied out. to be truly tired.

as [she] sat and gazed out over the panorama, arms resting on propped up knees, she couldn't help but dream. what if they could just jump and somehow clear the canyon, over the raging waters and thorny brush below, above the dashing rocks and bridge remains, what if? the wind swept her hair wildly, but she didn't care. maintaining beauty was a fruitless task she'd given up long ago on this journey, showing how much she'd come to mature ever since the whole affair had begun. and yet, in her sparkled a different type of beauty, one that shone beyond the dust and sweat, the tear stains and scratches that marred her once perfect complexion. it was indescribable, yet heightened by the warm glow of the sun's rays touching her face, lifting her chin to stare up at the sky. had this all been for nothing, to have pushed so very far yet come up empty handed? perhaps, but a smile tugged at the corner of her dry lips. she'd do it all over again if given the choice, without a moment's hesitation.

a hand came to rest on her shoulder. at one time, the hand had been smooth and soft, tamed by the luxuries of society, but now it was both rough and callused. every line upon it spoke of a different tale, a different battle, and he remembered them all with vivid clarity. yet despite its worn exterior, [she] could feel the comfort it represented, tilting her head to rest her cheek upon it for a moment to acknowledge the gesture. [he] withdrew his hand and limped forwards, coming to a stop upon what seemed like the very edge of the world. this had never been fair to begin with; every road was stacked against them, yet together they had come through it all, sometimes emerging with fewer people than they went in with. but for the rest of them, this effort had been entirely voluntary, never had they been forced to continue. at any given moment they could have walked away and resumed their normal lives, but no. inexplicably, they had remained by him until the venture had become something personal to them all. and now, the moment when each and every one had come to acknowledge it, it was over, unless...

gazing out over the titanic gorge carved out in the earth, he spoke softly. "i need you to trust me, one more - one last - time."
--

what have i learned over this past holiday? i think the proper summary would be something like, "to look beyond". there are things and people i've come to see that have really always been there, but in the midst of everything and everyone else...i've managed to miss. and in light of this pseudo-enlightenment, i've also come to realize that i really cannot have it all. nobody can. at many points, almost every single second in our lives, we have to choose. should i get up and go to church today? should i do my homework? should i, should i, should i? and, to be honest with you, i'm seriously bad at making decisions. i hate having to choose because then you're left with the lingering, bitter game of 'what if?' and that is one game i hate with a passion, because you never win. but you know, and now i know, that you have to buckle down and make up your mind. there will always be consequences. it's inevitable. it's pointless to try and avoid the repercussions, because that in and of itself will bring upon its own onslaught of penalties.

anyway.