oh boy, you tin soldier
fighting all the many little metal men
you call your friends.
oh girl, ballerina
missing all the many little magic moves
he'll be your end.
remember wax was never meant for heat
and hearts will melt when these two fighters meet,
enemies of truth cannot collide
these two will fall and then divide.
you're just a doll, a candle, he will cut right through.
and soldier know this dance will be the death of you.
you'll find me in hot water, waiting with words
i'll whisper, you're bitter, and all the smiling hurts.
tin soldier firewater,
ballerinas can drown.
you're drinking, like sinking, singing christmas songs.
doll eyes meet, lies so sweet
you dress your own wounds.
i'm lost love, rise above, dirty dove, gone wrong.
i'm in your hand, you're in mine
oh boy, drunken soldier, i've danced away lines.
snow covers the tracks,
we're our own favorite toys
we'll get away again,
never find your way back.
Monday, 22 December 2008
Thursday, 20 November 2008
ok i believe you but my tommy gun don't.
“These are the words you wish you wrote down. This is the way you wished your voice sounds. “
The only times forgiveness can be displayed as anything other than an abstract ideal or virtue are in terms of such practices as truth commissions (like in Chile), truth and trials (like those in South Africa after the apartheid conflict), amnesty, whether blanket or conditional, as was the case in South Africa, or the sacrifice of Christ. In every situation, there are two sides, and rarely is it simply the villain and the victim. Except for in the sacred case, every villain has been victimized and ever victim has been villainous. If it is about truth telling, there is never any way to tell the whole truth. I don’t want to bother with the difference between restorative and retributive justice or collective versus personal confession and forgiveness. I want to print it out in black and white on a typewriter, marking every word in sound and ink. Bold and silent. Forgiveness should rely on the whole truth. It should mean more than a simple list of the acts of cruelty or injustice. It should be perfect. Because forgiveness should make things perfect. I will not print a pamphlet of our indiscretions to be marked up in red by different interpretations, memories or motives. I do not care to. I just want perfection and that’s not too much to ask.
The only times forgiveness can be displayed as anything other than an abstract ideal or virtue are in terms of such practices as truth commissions (like in Chile), truth and trials (like those in South Africa after the apartheid conflict), amnesty, whether blanket or conditional, as was the case in South Africa, or the sacrifice of Christ. In every situation, there are two sides, and rarely is it simply the villain and the victim. Except for in the sacred case, every villain has been victimized and ever victim has been villainous. If it is about truth telling, there is never any way to tell the whole truth. I don’t want to bother with the difference between restorative and retributive justice or collective versus personal confession and forgiveness. I want to print it out in black and white on a typewriter, marking every word in sound and ink. Bold and silent. Forgiveness should rely on the whole truth. It should mean more than a simple list of the acts of cruelty or injustice. It should be perfect. Because forgiveness should make things perfect. I will not print a pamphlet of our indiscretions to be marked up in red by different interpretations, memories or motives. I do not care to. I just want perfection and that’s not too much to ask.
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
cat like thief.
i am a kleptomaniac and a somewhat doubtful narcissist. i will take what's yours and love it because i now consider it mine and all that is mine is all that i love. so don't talk to me about the luck of the draw or survival of the fittest because i can count cards and slay dragons.
i'm watchin myself in a spiral of public humiliation or somethin quietly like it, and hear the words please don't let this turn into something it's not, i can only give you everything i've got. i can't be as sorry as you think i should, but i still love you more than anyone else could. it's a nice song and i'll pretend those words are mine and love them for being mine.
because it could take my whole life to make this right. but i won't pretend to try. because this life is not mine. i won't take it.
i'm watchin myself in a spiral of public humiliation or somethin quietly like it, and hear the words please don't let this turn into something it's not, i can only give you everything i've got. i can't be as sorry as you think i should, but i still love you more than anyone else could. it's a nice song and i'll pretend those words are mine and love them for being mine.
because it could take my whole life to make this right. but i won't pretend to try. because this life is not mine. i won't take it.
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
and i don't even have a garbage disposal.
summer is not something beautiful like that eerily siren-like call of the ice cream truck and thinking its still ok to use easy bake ovens anymore. it's become like a melting ice cream cone or sweet tea left out in the sun too long so its just hot, and too sweet. it's spoiled and old.
don't give me good gossip unless its satirical or ironic, i'm so tired of peddling it for a laugh and a raised eyebrows. even though i'm all for laughs and raised eyebrows. i'd rather be seeing them in another country or in some outfit that isn't appropriate to work in an office on campus, or while i am riding my bicycle without wind making it impossible. the bicycle i'd like to paint hot pink as soon as i get the chance.
yes, i know i'm supposed to get my work done but it's summertime and i haven't had ice cream in...weeks. (that's a lie but it was with old people so it may as well have been a parfait) i do love a good parfait though. i work out at a gym when i could run around outside or play a game. un juego. esto es espanol. i told a boy in class that i was going to fight him before the month was up yesterday. i was tired of him telling me answers to questions i hadn't asked him about conjugation from the other side of the room. mind your own spanish kid, and put that popped collar down.
i have to go to a storage facility today. maybe i'll satisfy all my moroseness with a cajun cone.
but probably not. too many calories and it would melt on my work appropriate clothes.
don't give me good gossip unless its satirical or ironic, i'm so tired of peddling it for a laugh and a raised eyebrows. even though i'm all for laughs and raised eyebrows. i'd rather be seeing them in another country or in some outfit that isn't appropriate to work in an office on campus, or while i am riding my bicycle without wind making it impossible. the bicycle i'd like to paint hot pink as soon as i get the chance.
yes, i know i'm supposed to get my work done but it's summertime and i haven't had ice cream in...weeks. (that's a lie but it was with old people so it may as well have been a parfait) i do love a good parfait though. i work out at a gym when i could run around outside or play a game. un juego. esto es espanol. i told a boy in class that i was going to fight him before the month was up yesterday. i was tired of him telling me answers to questions i hadn't asked him about conjugation from the other side of the room. mind your own spanish kid, and put that popped collar down.
i have to go to a storage facility today. maybe i'll satisfy all my moroseness with a cajun cone.
but probably not. too many calories and it would melt on my work appropriate clothes.
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
it's a lactose sort of fate.
when we were young
the world was made of shapes
and now it's walls.
for better or worse.
to scale or construct.
and less color than the circles
the rectangles and the stars
to fit right, this world's not ours.
when we grow up
we sell it with our crayons
those choke-safe happy little beads
to a world that lost the heart to them down--
these walls that send us on our merry way
to find our cheese.
the world was made of shapes
and now it's walls.
for better or worse.
to scale or construct.
and less color than the circles
the rectangles and the stars
to fit right, this world's not ours.
when we grow up
we sell it with our crayons
those choke-safe happy little beads
to a world that lost the heart to them down--
these walls that send us on our merry way
to find our cheese.
Friday, 7 March 2008
i will know your name.
I crossed a tiny sea tonight
to reach across a hill
and pick off this one point of light
that burns within me still.
Oh all these pretty winding roads are wringing out my heart,
I’m seeing things in snipped reverse,
just art falling apart.
I never take the chances I should take, God bless my soul.
I take the ones that never leave a mark.
Only a hole.
Where hoping used to be.
And oh I miss you.
These people won’t stop asking questions. I’ve become.
A polite tape I’ve set on repeat to say you’re gone.
And I’m walking through the day, picturing the parallel face, and all the same along the way
that must be yours.
I am counting all the ways that my own face
must see the world.
Because this is a brand new one and I’m in it all alone.
This is no war.
Only a flat line of something good. A little girl who can’t hold on.
Because she isn’t used to trying.
But she’s so very good at lying.
And so she smiles and says you’re doing fine,
and life is not that different.
But it’s not mine.
Because you’re gone.
I will love life with you in it forever and ever. amen. It's all about the wings and falling stars, and never forgetting.
to reach across a hill
and pick off this one point of light
that burns within me still.
Oh all these pretty winding roads are wringing out my heart,
I’m seeing things in snipped reverse,
just art falling apart.
I never take the chances I should take, God bless my soul.
I take the ones that never leave a mark.
Only a hole.
Where hoping used to be.
And oh I miss you.
These people won’t stop asking questions. I’ve become.
A polite tape I’ve set on repeat to say you’re gone.
And I’m walking through the day, picturing the parallel face, and all the same along the way
that must be yours.
I am counting all the ways that my own face
must see the world.
Because this is a brand new one and I’m in it all alone.
This is no war.
Only a flat line of something good. A little girl who can’t hold on.
Because she isn’t used to trying.
But she’s so very good at lying.
And so she smiles and says you’re doing fine,
and life is not that different.
But it’s not mine.
Because you’re gone.
I will love life with you in it forever and ever. amen. It's all about the wings and falling stars, and never forgetting.
the spark.
we are all jealous lovers. we love jealously. but there's this song i love by mute math that repeats the phrase 'you are mine'. and its about God, not a girl. but if He is mine, He is everyone else's who believes in Him. so we all share this one thing to live for, to trust in, to know. and yet i connect to no one as if there is this cosmic divine commonality. there is nothing. we don't share well.
i don't know how to love God and show Him I love Him compared to how everyone else loves or shows. it's a spiritual competition and uncertainty with everyone playing differently, but no chance of ever coming out on top. death is the only solution. and goodness, this is how we handle perfect love. i want to love perfectly. but i love as if i do it in spite of myself and in spite of the world.
and nobody loves Him like i do. that's what makes Him mine. yet He loves everyone the same. i want to love Him in everyone i meet. the spark of the divine. but i just crush it in myself and disregard it in others.
and this is how we handle perfect love.
He is mine.
i don't know how to love God and show Him I love Him compared to how everyone else loves or shows. it's a spiritual competition and uncertainty with everyone playing differently, but no chance of ever coming out on top. death is the only solution. and goodness, this is how we handle perfect love. i want to love perfectly. but i love as if i do it in spite of myself and in spite of the world.
and nobody loves Him like i do. that's what makes Him mine. yet He loves everyone the same. i want to love Him in everyone i meet. the spark of the divine. but i just crush it in myself and disregard it in others.
and this is how we handle perfect love.
He is mine.
Saturday, 9 February 2008
you don't know me, but i'm sitting next to you. every morning, on the bus or on the tube...
"On the weekends
We try to get our share
Of excitement and of fresh air
Trying to forget
Who we’re gonna be
When the alarm rings
On monday morning"
i stayed in bed for such a long time today, just because i knew i could, and so i should. obviously, this does not apply to all things by any means. but bed on saturday--most certainly. except i didn't particularly enjoy it. i wanted to go walking or to the park in oxford (which is moot since i am, in fact, not in oxford). i wanted to vacuum my room or write in my journal. but i just laid there like a limp towel. not damp. just limp. i finally went to the baseball game at five. but we lost. and i left early anyhow. to have lunch with my sister. and her best friend. and try to honestly inform them about club and pledging without making myself look like a mindless fool for participating.
junior class sing song is going to be a humiliation. it's almost funny. but not quite. i cannot believe i am participating in it. but every now and then i actually have slight twinges of a commitment conscience. or maybe its a complex.
every now and then.
and i love boys clothes. especially jeans. i love a great friend with a truly great boyfriend. i love college baseball games and the walk music for each player. i love salads with eggs in them. i love new episodes of show i like online. i love shoes. i love the amazing valentines package from my mom. it's just so delightfully wonderful. i love pooh bear slippers on sale for my sing song director. because honeybees love honey. but so does pooh.
this weekend will probably end as a disappointment. but i finally stayed in town for it. the first weekend this semester. and i think i'll make it through. i'll get out of bed sooner tomorrow. i'll appreciate a good sunday. i'll soak up some christ. and i'll probably crave sugar while i do so.
lent. lend me your ear. lend me a dollar. lend me a free perfect weekend.
"If in the evening
All you do is watch TV
Cause your too tired for anything else
You’re just like me
Just remember
As you struggle through the day
Relief awaits you
Friday’s not that far away..."
We try to get our share
Of excitement and of fresh air
Trying to forget
Who we’re gonna be
When the alarm rings
On monday morning"
i stayed in bed for such a long time today, just because i knew i could, and so i should. obviously, this does not apply to all things by any means. but bed on saturday--most certainly. except i didn't particularly enjoy it. i wanted to go walking or to the park in oxford (which is moot since i am, in fact, not in oxford). i wanted to vacuum my room or write in my journal. but i just laid there like a limp towel. not damp. just limp. i finally went to the baseball game at five. but we lost. and i left early anyhow. to have lunch with my sister. and her best friend. and try to honestly inform them about club and pledging without making myself look like a mindless fool for participating.
junior class sing song is going to be a humiliation. it's almost funny. but not quite. i cannot believe i am participating in it. but every now and then i actually have slight twinges of a commitment conscience. or maybe its a complex.
every now and then.
and i love boys clothes. especially jeans. i love a great friend with a truly great boyfriend. i love college baseball games and the walk music for each player. i love salads with eggs in them. i love new episodes of show i like online. i love shoes. i love the amazing valentines package from my mom. it's just so delightfully wonderful. i love pooh bear slippers on sale for my sing song director. because honeybees love honey. but so does pooh.
this weekend will probably end as a disappointment. but i finally stayed in town for it. the first weekend this semester. and i think i'll make it through. i'll get out of bed sooner tomorrow. i'll appreciate a good sunday. i'll soak up some christ. and i'll probably crave sugar while i do so.
lent. lend me your ear. lend me a dollar. lend me a free perfect weekend.
"If in the evening
All you do is watch TV
Cause your too tired for anything else
You’re just like me
Just remember
As you struggle through the day
Relief awaits you
Friday’s not that far away..."
Monday, 4 February 2008
giving your body to the lonely
i wonder what it would be like to live a martyr's life. not the fatal kind of martyrdom. the living kind. that's what this sufjan song is about.
christ. not me.
giving up everything. to be alone with me. when i can't sleep. when i don't pray. he went up on a tree. i used to climb trees. you don't need grace when youre a child. but i'm graceless. and not a child. and all the trees are too small.
but i used to hide in them. not that they were crosses obviously. but he was with me.
i'll never know the man who loved me. who loves me. i'd give anything to have grown up with him. to climb cypress trees or whatever they have in israel. to eat locusts because i was in a desert, to keep him company, while he fasted. instead of a dare. he is real. and is always alone with me.
that's what the song's about mom.
and how far we are from giving all of our being to be alone with another. for their sake. or the world's.
christ. not me.
giving up everything. to be alone with me. when i can't sleep. when i don't pray. he went up on a tree. i used to climb trees. you don't need grace when youre a child. but i'm graceless. and not a child. and all the trees are too small.
but i used to hide in them. not that they were crosses obviously. but he was with me.
i'll never know the man who loved me. who loves me. i'd give anything to have grown up with him. to climb cypress trees or whatever they have in israel. to eat locusts because i was in a desert, to keep him company, while he fasted. instead of a dare. he is real. and is always alone with me.
that's what the song's about mom.
and how far we are from giving all of our being to be alone with another. for their sake. or the world's.
Saturday, 2 February 2008
a little less poetic.
a quick update:
i am doing sing song for ko jo kai from 8-11 on monday, wednesday and friday.
now i am also doing sing song for junior class 9-11 on tuesday.
i have tai chi on tuesdays from 6-9. i'm feeling it. in my birthing hips.
although the concert i went to last night didn't help those aches and pains. i'm getting too old to stand for that long fighting to hold myself upright. but it was amazing. i love living a life where i can drive to dallas with two barely friends for an incredible angels and airwaves show and then back in the same night. great music. we even got to eat on a wonderful happy city night street, which i loved.
and it was great. they were good people. and we didn't die at the whataburger on the way home.
i went to the first meeting of the brand new ACU chapter of the student peace alliance. no. it's not about ending the war in iraq. it's about promoting legislation for creating a department of peace in our government. check it out. thepeacealliance.org. i am pretty excited about it.
i'm applying for a job to work with physical therapists as an aide. i'm checking out internships in d.c. for whenever i can. which is not this summer. since it will be the summer of espanol thanks to my own ignorance. god help me and send me some better place to learn this language. just not a summer in abilene.
i want to go on a road trip to the grand canyon for spring break. but don't want to end up as a third wheel because my friends are all strangers to each other it seems.
i love my terrorism class and don't know what to make of that. i think i just really like being able to discuss such intense things so casually at nine o clock in the morning. it makes for a more meaningful life i think.
i hate the feeling of knowing how good you smell and hassling with bobby pins. and waiting for your phone to ring. but it doesn't in time.
i enjoy sufjan stevens in times like this.
"you gave your body to the lonely
they took your clothes
you gave up your wife and family
you gave your goals.
to be alone with me
to be alone with me, you went up on the tree.
i'll never know the man who loved me."
now i just have to decide what to do tonight.
i am doing sing song for ko jo kai from 8-11 on monday, wednesday and friday.
now i am also doing sing song for junior class 9-11 on tuesday.
i have tai chi on tuesdays from 6-9. i'm feeling it. in my birthing hips.
although the concert i went to last night didn't help those aches and pains. i'm getting too old to stand for that long fighting to hold myself upright. but it was amazing. i love living a life where i can drive to dallas with two barely friends for an incredible angels and airwaves show and then back in the same night. great music. we even got to eat on a wonderful happy city night street, which i loved.
and it was great. they were good people. and we didn't die at the whataburger on the way home.
i went to the first meeting of the brand new ACU chapter of the student peace alliance. no. it's not about ending the war in iraq. it's about promoting legislation for creating a department of peace in our government. check it out. thepeacealliance.org. i am pretty excited about it.
i'm applying for a job to work with physical therapists as an aide. i'm checking out internships in d.c. for whenever i can. which is not this summer. since it will be the summer of espanol thanks to my own ignorance. god help me and send me some better place to learn this language. just not a summer in abilene.
i want to go on a road trip to the grand canyon for spring break. but don't want to end up as a third wheel because my friends are all strangers to each other it seems.
i love my terrorism class and don't know what to make of that. i think i just really like being able to discuss such intense things so casually at nine o clock in the morning. it makes for a more meaningful life i think.
i hate the feeling of knowing how good you smell and hassling with bobby pins. and waiting for your phone to ring. but it doesn't in time.
i enjoy sufjan stevens in times like this.
"you gave your body to the lonely
they took your clothes
you gave up your wife and family
you gave your goals.
to be alone with me
to be alone with me, you went up on the tree.
i'll never know the man who loved me."
now i just have to decide what to do tonight.
Friday, 1 February 2008
why'd you sing halleluia
they say there's one in every group. what does that say about the rest of us? that we are nothing to be one on our own. we are not the guy from tennessee with too much hair product and the leather jacket who always manages to ask a question right at 10:49. we are not the girl with the nose piercing who admires anarchy and modern weaponry a little too much and is vocal about it. we are not the professor who is still single and brilliant but draws great cartoons. we take all our little one bits and disguise them with the rest of us that makes the group so much more comfortable. and we mock the ones. or act like they are the ones failing at being someone when in reality that is all they are doing, and are doing so unintentionally, which is really what its all about.
but we envy them that. their weird smells, stonewashed denim, or even their position on gun control. because it is these things that make them the one. it's so windy it feels like we are going to blow away. i looked african the other day. or so that is what he said to me. i don't have any facial piercings. any more. my hair is a bit unyielding at times. i tripped when i was running today. i can't write music. these are thoughts i have about myself. but what is my oneness? i don't want to break hearts or hurt others. but i don't want to be broken either. this is what oneness requires i'm afraid. and i just really love getting As.
there's a song that says "she's standing in the ashes at the end of the world, with the wind blowing her hair".
is it a good thing or a bad thing? he calls her the whore of babylon. but she's left standing.
but we envy them that. their weird smells, stonewashed denim, or even their position on gun control. because it is these things that make them the one. it's so windy it feels like we are going to blow away. i looked african the other day. or so that is what he said to me. i don't have any facial piercings. any more. my hair is a bit unyielding at times. i tripped when i was running today. i can't write music. these are thoughts i have about myself. but what is my oneness? i don't want to break hearts or hurt others. but i don't want to be broken either. this is what oneness requires i'm afraid. and i just really love getting As.
there's a song that says "she's standing in the ashes at the end of the world, with the wind blowing her hair".
is it a good thing or a bad thing? he calls her the whore of babylon. but she's left standing.
Tuesday, 22 January 2008
won't you be my solid ground.
i cannot sleep. it is 3:33 a.m. and i have been sick exhausted all day and cannot sleep. so...yet again...i am awake and browsing music choices thinking of the people in my life. who are all most likely quite sound asleep. it's really unfortunate, seeing as i have come to appreciate sleep more than i once did, and more than many around me. i need to clear everything out of my room except for whats on the walls and sleep here, to see if i like it. there's too much around and not enough to comfort me. i want pictures all over one of my walls. i like facades of company--only because in reality i have so much more, but the facade in pretty photographed faces is all i need to get to sleep. or maybe it is what is keeping me up. i feel so sick today, my lungs are miserable which makes my head and stomach and heart hurt. i would prefer not to move, but went to sing song regardless. and talked to someone in the coffee shop that i would much rather hold a grudge against. for making mistakes and hurting my friend. i love simple convictions. and coffee. and the kind of girl friends and boy friends i have in my life. on top of all the boys in my life and my girl sarah did for me this weekend for my birthday, my roommates made me dinner tonight and we watched a movie, and they did everything for me for my birthday. i love them. and tomorrow night i get to go out for dessert with girls i am in club with after tai chi. i am truly trying to soak up the college experience. this weekend, i am going to dallas with a group of girls for a friends birthday, which is exciting. a friend spoke to me recently about how we are always told to breathe in every moment as it passes us by, but are never told when to breathe out again. so we are constantly holding our breaths full of life until our heart stops. because that is what happens. we have to breathe out.
my new band love is called the swell season. do check it out. i am listening to it right now.
and all that i am waiting for. is a chance to even out the score. i am picking up the message, lord. i am closer than i've ever been before. so if you have something to say, say it to me now.
my new band love is called the swell season. do check it out. i am listening to it right now.
and all that i am waiting for. is a chance to even out the score. i am picking up the message, lord. i am closer than i've ever been before. so if you have something to say, say it to me now.
Wednesday, 16 January 2008
stay on my side tonight.
there's a line to a song i love by jimmy eat world that says "i'd rather live my life in regret, than do this." i love that line. i'm sitting in my room in an oversize sweater that makes me feel like a child, fiddling my toes with each other, in a room i keep getting messy, wide awake at 12 am. an old man in line in front of me at a coffee shop tonight gave me not one but two cards worth a free coffee, punch cards, and when i asked him if he was sure, he smiled and said "i'm someone's daddy, and you're someone's little girl." it was wonderful. some of me things it was the ridiculously oversize sweater and pathetic little face surrounded by my ridiculous curly hair, but it was such a sweet gesture of love. people make us miserable sometimes. but they're all we've got.
i've started sing song. it's my first time. the practices are simply much too long and i had to pay a dollar for being three minutes late, but i hear it's worth it. that the one weekend makes the five weeks of practice worth it, and i won't regret it. i do regret the little bit of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream i splurged on last night. i've felt bloated all day. i wish i hadn't voiced my fairly moderate opinion earlier today. most of the time people just don't appreciate opinion. we would much rather think over our own. it's funny how opinionated even the mildest of people are. the only difference is how much we vocalize it.
figuring out when to do that is an interesting experience. i see so much of myself in thinking before i speak. who would have thought. this bit of wisdom is overlooked and underrated, like some antiquated tripe that doesn't fit in the real world. it does though. it helps make the world your own.
i wish i had a cat to sleep with me. i wonder if life really is about choosing between regret for action or for inaction. and hindsight is not twenty-twenty. it's often just a different perspective on the same right or wrong choice, not necessarily more clarity. the last line is "lie. lie, better next time. stay on my side tonight." we all need an ally. a compadre. a cat. a body pillow. a song that helps us fall asleep. sometimes we need a lie. sometimes we just need to lie down and really sleep. without having to work at it. maybe having a bed frame again will help.
i've started sing song. it's my first time. the practices are simply much too long and i had to pay a dollar for being three minutes late, but i hear it's worth it. that the one weekend makes the five weeks of practice worth it, and i won't regret it. i do regret the little bit of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream i splurged on last night. i've felt bloated all day. i wish i hadn't voiced my fairly moderate opinion earlier today. most of the time people just don't appreciate opinion. we would much rather think over our own. it's funny how opinionated even the mildest of people are. the only difference is how much we vocalize it.
figuring out when to do that is an interesting experience. i see so much of myself in thinking before i speak. who would have thought. this bit of wisdom is overlooked and underrated, like some antiquated tripe that doesn't fit in the real world. it does though. it helps make the world your own.
i wish i had a cat to sleep with me. i wonder if life really is about choosing between regret for action or for inaction. and hindsight is not twenty-twenty. it's often just a different perspective on the same right or wrong choice, not necessarily more clarity. the last line is "lie. lie, better next time. stay on my side tonight." we all need an ally. a compadre. a cat. a body pillow. a song that helps us fall asleep. sometimes we need a lie. sometimes we just need to lie down and really sleep. without having to work at it. maybe having a bed frame again will help.
Tuesday, 15 January 2008
my atonement.
i just got home from seeing a movie called atonement. we were 6 of 7 people in the theatre. i use the british spelling because this movie was so good it deserves the pure form of the english language. the name is simple. atonement. an atonement is a satisfaction or reparation for wrongs or injury. according to christian theology, christ was the atonement for our sins.
this is a beautiful tragic love story like so much in life. and it was fantastically done. but it raises an interesting question. there is a significant emphasis on confession in this atonement. to bring the truth to the public light. but in the end, after is all is said and done and lost or used, what does the honesty mean? atonement is not about the truth. sometimes truth does not heal all wrongs. too many times it does not come close. sometimes repairing a wrong is not about correcting a misunderstanding and sometimes it is not about the person wronged. but it should be. and it should be so much simpler.
i like the idea though. of perfect atonement. of realizing the depth and breadth of the decisions we make, big and small, good and bad, selfless or selfish. i suppose perfect atonement brings the spirit of truth to light, even if this is not the aim of it. the music was wonderful. the movie was artistic. i was allowed the little pleasure of telling myself i at least definitely have a more substantial chest than keira knightley, and the more pleasurable enjoyment of james mcavoy's face. it's worth looking twice or more at. i like empty theatres. it makes you face the reality of the movie more, because its lonelier. and something about loneliness makes reality more present and stark. maybe because loneliness is one of life's greatest realities. but i am not lonely. i have a beautiful life. even without a tragically beautiful love story.
this is a beautiful tragic love story like so much in life. and it was fantastically done. but it raises an interesting question. there is a significant emphasis on confession in this atonement. to bring the truth to the public light. but in the end, after is all is said and done and lost or used, what does the honesty mean? atonement is not about the truth. sometimes truth does not heal all wrongs. too many times it does not come close. sometimes repairing a wrong is not about correcting a misunderstanding and sometimes it is not about the person wronged. but it should be. and it should be so much simpler.
i like the idea though. of perfect atonement. of realizing the depth and breadth of the decisions we make, big and small, good and bad, selfless or selfish. i suppose perfect atonement brings the spirit of truth to light, even if this is not the aim of it. the music was wonderful. the movie was artistic. i was allowed the little pleasure of telling myself i at least definitely have a more substantial chest than keira knightley, and the more pleasurable enjoyment of james mcavoy's face. it's worth looking twice or more at. i like empty theatres. it makes you face the reality of the movie more, because its lonelier. and something about loneliness makes reality more present and stark. maybe because loneliness is one of life's greatest realities. but i am not lonely. i have a beautiful life. even without a tragically beautiful love story.
Monday, 14 January 2008
to cast out my fear.
i want a perfect friend. i want to be a perfect friend.
a perfect friend lets you makes them pancakes. and makes you pancakes back. they do not get mad about measuring spoons and cups or vacuums or the heater or the dryer lint or outlets or oven lights or locks or parking or anything else that doesn't matter. a perfect friend doesn't change without you. they change with you. not because you are changing so they have to or they are so you have to, just because it is what is natural. they live in sync with you in a perfect flow of friendship without depending on you for that flow. a perfect friend always has a jacket for you. and compliments the way you smell. and finishes your sentences, and when they get it wrong, their completion makes you laugh because it could have been your next thought. the perfect friend knows good things don't last forever. but you should make them last as long as possible. because it is a choice. a perfect friend does not see things as give and take. they simply give and they take. so that you can give and take. and there's a comfortable balance. the perfect friend gives you a place to sleep at night. next to them. and always gives you safety. with a look. a word. a prayer. a place. a touch. a perfect friend gives you what God wants you to have. telling you what God wants you to hear. and lets you know they're doing it because God is always there. and always loves you. a perfect friend stays true and pure and loves what is good. they see what is innocent about you, love you for it, and do everything in their power to protect that innocence in you while never making you feel small or needy, simple something precious and worth protecting. a perfect friend doesn't require anything but has given so much that you desire to give all you can. a perfect friend has standards. for your sake. they trust you. they show you. a perfect friend never leaves you behind. ever. because life without you is not something they would ever choose. no matter what lays ahead. because you are something worth fighting for to be kept at their side. and they want you to know that. a perfect friend is whoever they are and lets you love them for that person. a perfect friend lets you know the things that remind them of you in their days. they are not disappointed in you. they bring out the best in you. and you bring out the best in them. they wait at a yellow light when you're following them on the road. they want your face in their mind and your voice in their head. they are not better off without you. the perfect friend understands what you are asking when you ask questions. and understand when you don't need an answer. and when you do. they give it. they do not make you feel like you have a point to prove. but understand when you need to. without ever giving you a need to be defensive. a perfect friend always hugs. they do not confuse you. a perfect friend makes the imperfect things make sense to you. so you don't feel so lost. a perfect friend always loves who you are, always trusts who you are, always protects you from what would change that, always hopes you will find more perfect in the world, always perseveres by your side, because all the bad with you is better than the good with anyone else. a perfect friend does not exist. but the moments of perfection are beautiful. unforgettable. so painful. because they are impossible to hold. perfection is intangible. perfect love casts out all fear.
a perfect friend lets you makes them pancakes. and makes you pancakes back. they do not get mad about measuring spoons and cups or vacuums or the heater or the dryer lint or outlets or oven lights or locks or parking or anything else that doesn't matter. a perfect friend doesn't change without you. they change with you. not because you are changing so they have to or they are so you have to, just because it is what is natural. they live in sync with you in a perfect flow of friendship without depending on you for that flow. a perfect friend always has a jacket for you. and compliments the way you smell. and finishes your sentences, and when they get it wrong, their completion makes you laugh because it could have been your next thought. the perfect friend knows good things don't last forever. but you should make them last as long as possible. because it is a choice. a perfect friend does not see things as give and take. they simply give and they take. so that you can give and take. and there's a comfortable balance. the perfect friend gives you a place to sleep at night. next to them. and always gives you safety. with a look. a word. a prayer. a place. a touch. a perfect friend gives you what God wants you to have. telling you what God wants you to hear. and lets you know they're doing it because God is always there. and always loves you. a perfect friend stays true and pure and loves what is good. they see what is innocent about you, love you for it, and do everything in their power to protect that innocence in you while never making you feel small or needy, simple something precious and worth protecting. a perfect friend doesn't require anything but has given so much that you desire to give all you can. a perfect friend has standards. for your sake. they trust you. they show you. a perfect friend never leaves you behind. ever. because life without you is not something they would ever choose. no matter what lays ahead. because you are something worth fighting for to be kept at their side. and they want you to know that. a perfect friend is whoever they are and lets you love them for that person. a perfect friend lets you know the things that remind them of you in their days. they are not disappointed in you. they bring out the best in you. and you bring out the best in them. they wait at a yellow light when you're following them on the road. they want your face in their mind and your voice in their head. they are not better off without you. the perfect friend understands what you are asking when you ask questions. and understand when you don't need an answer. and when you do. they give it. they do not make you feel like you have a point to prove. but understand when you need to. without ever giving you a need to be defensive. a perfect friend always hugs. they do not confuse you. a perfect friend makes the imperfect things make sense to you. so you don't feel so lost. a perfect friend always loves who you are, always trusts who you are, always protects you from what would change that, always hopes you will find more perfect in the world, always perseveres by your side, because all the bad with you is better than the good with anyone else. a perfect friend does not exist. but the moments of perfection are beautiful. unforgettable. so painful. because they are impossible to hold. perfection is intangible. perfect love casts out all fear.
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