the author's mid-life crisis

as time grows on, i find
i become hard-pressed for words
challenged by my own feelings (thoughts)
and extremely indignant at the thought of
outliving my creative juices.

or maybe it's the simplest of reasons
that i just expired as an artist
and to continue on will cost me something
i might not be willing to pay

antequated, out of touch words
"vintage" is not an acceptable medium
i want to find, say, think the new thing
not to set a trend, but to inspire trendsetting

i want to break so hard and fast from this
mold that has disguised itself as chains
and implement a more mind-wandered me
find a way to be the artist on days and weekends.
(who wants time off from their passion?)

i am altogether passionate about uttering words
that shake foundations
i am altogether passionate about shouting things
that whisper verity.
i just want to make a difference

[to be titled]

take a ride with me on the brink of sanity
for just one moment, lay aside your limitations
and fly with me 'round the world
as i discover the place where i went wrong

butterflies never did grow on me
and their effect impressed me even less
but it's the truth, one thing makes the rest what they are
and i'd be an utter fool to deny that truth

we were so much younger but older then
we've got the wisdom now but the mentality hit rewind
it's a teeter-totter totting out of control
balance is the last thing on our minds

i guess it just comes down to the fact that
we're neither who we wanted to be or who we thought we were
and only outside this finite box of a mind
can i ever expect to find any type of answers

take a ride with me on the brink of sanity
just for one moment, see why i'm losing mine
and then console me to no avail
because i know that this time, if i lose it, i lose it all.

proverbs one:seven

"the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction."

proverbs talks a lot about wisdom. wisdom itself is the one thing that solomon asked for when granted the opportunity. and in his writings in proverbs, he seems to beg us to seek the same thing - which has always confused me a little, considering the man had thousands of women at his disposal. doesn't sound too wise.

but i think in chapter one, verse seven, we see a little insight into the years that have brought him to this place. he isn't saying this because he was successful, but he sees where he has lacked and he makes a decision to warn the next generation that you can have wisdom, but without the fear of the Lord, it will do you no good.

i'm 20 years old. i like indie rock music, peace signs, the color purple, old literature, floral patterns, tattoos, and coffee. lots and lots of coffee. in this past year, i have watched myself flee girl-hood and become a woman. and in this next year, my goal is to solidify. i know i'll never have this life figured out, but i would love to figure out that He's the only way i'll make it. and the beginning of that is the fear of the Lord. not to be afraid of him, and not even to fear his judgments, but to have such a reverence and respect for Him that i realize that nothing makes sense unless He is in the midst of it. and that will produce wisdom that can only come from above.

so i guess, this is my resolve. call it a new year's resolution if you will.
i just want this year to be the year that i fear the Lord first and make myself look good later.
God, that i might fear Your name.

first train home

the train station, amidst its hustle and bustle, amidst the loud noises and high, echoing ceilings, offered solace to her. she sat pristine, with an antique bag in her lap, hands folded. she had nothing to say, nothing on her mind, aside from the casual "i just want to go home." 


she knew that home wasn't a place for her anymore. no, a physical home had long been stripped from her senses. home for her was something much bigger...home for her was the laughter, the sunflowers. home was the echo of a baby's cry, or the smile on the face of a dear friend. home had become so much bigger than the four walls she'd known her whole life. home had become a state of mind. and although, at times like these, it was difficult to admit, she liked having that kind of home much better - because it meant she was home much more of the time.

yet, even in the swimming thoughts that plagued her mind about where home could possibly be, she knew there was only one place where she felt one hundred percent at home - like she belonged. she could travel the world over and never find a place so safe as this. the smiles, the tears, the music, the deep conversations, the heartache, the long walks to nowhere, the late nights, the questions. the feeling of his smooth skin against her face, the warmth of his hand in hers, the rhythm of his heartbeat as she lay on his chest, the surprise of a brief laugh. the only place she was really home was in his arms.

the train whistle blew violently, and steam erupted everywhere. she fished for her ticket and sprinted to the train, a smile on her face, because she knew that before long, she'd be in the arms of the one she loved...and she'd finally be....

home.

sleepless in seattle?

i am extremely restless.
it's four in the morning and i have no idea what i'm doing still awake. usually a long night like this means something is on my mind or that i need to write...
this time i think it's a little bit of both...

but in either respect, i don't know where to begin.