i hope i dance

So we pick up and keep moving. It's beautiful outside.
You're way cool. I've placed bets on you.

I hate, I love, I need, I want.

hello, my today was quite under-achieved.
how was yours?

I hate failing.
I hate not having the ideal, the perfect, the intention.
I hate that fairytales are so loved and despised at the same time.
I hate that everyone has to protect themselves so thoroughly as not to be shattered.
I hate feeling like this.

I love that my feelings don't change my value to just one other.
I love that beauty, real beauty has nothing to do with my face.
I love that laughter is free and smiles are healing.
I love remembering that there are people who have my back and who intercede for me.
I love that my paranoid hallucinations pale when I find refuge in the arms of a never forsaking God whose peace transcends all understanding, whose love is absolute and whose word is truth.

The truth is what I need right now. Your love is what I want.

It's nice to be adored.

As opposed to having to meet people aged teenager and up, the littlier successors of the human race have a way of trampling insecurities. I suppose it's the lack of "real-size" humans being available to guide the young'uns through the "how to"s of life- ensuring that the few who do are worth their weight in gold to the waist-height adoring eyes of primary aged kids.

Today, part-way through the day at our church's local holiday program initiative, as I went to wash handfuls of paint off my hands and attempt to wash it off my dag-knit jumper, I caught the reflection of my far-from-glamorous surface. It was one of those I-look-so-unimpressive-I'm-impressed days but I just smirked and continued scrubbing my hands and the elbows of the kids around me, totally grateful of the adoration I had absorbed in one day alone (especially from the girls who think the world of me). I don't even think the world of me! These girls are more beautiful than I yet they are blind to my ugly days! It's like I can't be ugly enough for these children! It surprises me how people wouldn't be climbing over each other for the opportunity to bathe in the smiles and laughter of the fresh and innocent!!

It amazes me firstly that God would delight in me like he does, that he would somehow see a beauty beyond my understanding. But what stuns me further is that there are a handful of humans who would similarly adore me! I'm not exaggerating when I say, "Today I looked like crumbs", yet when I pulled up a few chairs to sit behind the children, they rallied to the empty seats beside me because...
because for some reason they wanted to be near me, around me, with me...like me.

With that reason alone, I cannot excuse myself from doing the very best with life as I possibly can. I not saying that I am their one and only salvation, but they hope in me, the little they see of me - they mimic and learn from. I've so far to go - but if I could pave the way for these adorable adorers, I would. I will. I am.

I can't stop saying it lately, I love these children.

post number five oh five

i'm exhausted.
to say the least.

i've also fallen in love with these children again.
i hate that these two weeks of holidays will exhaust me further. That I am required to pace myself to fit in three assignments as well as find time to take a couple of these kids out, to organise a team meeting for the volunteers involved and to prepare myself for the three weeks of full-time practicum placement at a brilliant childcare and establish my etsy (and hopefully also a source of income).

The to-do list for monday (today) alone has left me winded and achy eyed.
Funny how the desires we strive for leave us wondering how much we actually have within ourselves to accomplish. But I know, these dreams are too big for me alone, I'm just yet to realise the team I'm to work alongside.

SO CMON!
I'm about to have my world rocked and you're going to be jealous!
LET ME HAVE IT.
wahahaha! this will either kill me or prove that my God is the God of the impossible. The key is to have completed all these things with smiles and laughter, through trial and error.
So the joy of the Lord is my strength and the joy of the Lord is not circumstantial, so HOW HARD CAN IT BE?

ps: I read an article on divorce and I think it's quite possibly worse than murder. I'd rather die than ever get a divorce...but that's another story (and no, I don't plan on marrying a dishonest or psychopath or gangland or abusive husband).

hmm...marriage...
i met two stunning women the other day who both married at age twenty. i'm twenty. i've never fallen in love. sort of makes me wonder...

the real, the hurting, the ever there and inconsistently apparent: love.

years ago i made a pact with two dearly beloveds that i was tonight reminded of. so overwhelming was the memory of repetitive promise (that this one year of somewhat lack of emphasis had dammed up) that i couldn't decide why i was crying. whether because it was of what i had had, what i had missed, the reality of that promise or the reassurance of them there or the unveiling of accumulated hurt or remembered appreciation- i don't know. tonight quite possibly touched all of these. but i've been freshly reacquainted with friends. the real-est friends i ever knew and hardly gave deserved mention to.

i will always care for you, even if caring does and will continue to hurt.

ps: i have never worn a dress as short as the one i wore yesternight. my company assured me it was hardly as short or noticeable as the other girls' whose were shorter still. Though I'd hardly call that a justification and hope never to do so again. Hoping you won't judge me if ever you glisp a still-frame of that night.

between you and me

I'm going to be pretty on saturday. I've already told myself and I'm half excited, half afraid of what I'm getting myself into. I haven't partied in ages. I actually don't really know how to. Well I do, I go off my nut with excitement (no influences needed), but the looking pretty part. I'm torn because I really wanna look the part- I love the persona's we attach to dress up parties, I love the realm of pretending. But the make-up and the unbecoming dress of a tempestuous character...I just need to make sure that the people who know me don't see me. I'm kidding! I won't be a trash of a lady! In fact I'll do my part to be as sophisticated glamorous as I can. Though the face requires a fair edit. So, on saturday, I'm going to be a 1920's flapper gal. Surprised? I'm too shy to ask for help with make-up so I've gone through a gossip mag and cut out 14 pairs of eyes that I like and I'll have hopefully accumulated enough willpower and coordination to not destroy my face come that eventful evening.

For those who know me well and as the tom-boy who doesn't wear make-up (opposes it in fact), don't despair. I'm not turning into a cake-face frequent girly girl. It's sort of the once off. It's the curiousity and the "when nobody's looking I do actually wonder what I'd look like if I knew how to wear make-up".

Then at mid-night, much like Cinderella, I and my posse flee the venue before the mazda is reduced to a watermelon and my party euphoria ravished by Father. Also, this is my first time as designated driver! Oh, let the childish excitement of responsibility zip through me! YEAH YEAH YEAH! party farty me! But this is all between you and I.

my uncomforts

i want to vomit but i have nothing to vomit

i want to sleep but i have no time for it

i want the comforts of last week, yet do not live in regret or the past

El Shaddai, I am ever wanting - you are at the top of that list.

I keep telling myself this life is but a breath - so the uncomforts hardly shadow eternity.

but.
a.
breath.