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.

God made maths so humanity would agree on at least one thing.

I am aware that sometimes I swing a little far right and then a little far left, and somehow via trial and error, I find the balance...usually. Or what sometimes appears as compromise, which arguably cheapens both "extreme" beliefs. Or makes peace with.

There are so little correct answers in life, except in maths, which is why I like math. because I can know if I'm right or not and know that there is an absolute truth in calculations.

Maths and God. The only two truths that I think I'll categorise as concrete for the entirety of my life. Perhaps when I grow up, I'll be a godly mathematician, after all, I've always fancy absolutes.

i'm an alien.

after dropping suz off at work at chaddy, i thought it worthwhile perusing the first batch of fresh renovations, also keeping an eye on casual vacancies in certain windows interspersed throughout the centre.

i exited totally horrified.

somehow my own reflection thrown back at me from shop windows was distorted and ugly enough. as my pace quickened, i wanted just to be invisible because of the increasing insecurity that began gnawing at my sanity. i think the safest few seconds i felt was when i visited andy at the apple store and although he was too busy, he smiled at me and i felt a little less disgusting; and when i farewelled suz and she sent a hearty "hey" with added smile my way, she too was too busy to afford me any conversation afterward. walking out, i sighed relief all the 50metres to the car, appreciating the breeze of the 3rd last winter day- thanking the outdoors for freedom from an intoxicated and greedy bubble bought with invisible money on plastic cards.

i think my accidental detox from big centres of considerable dollar value had my little exploration come like culture shock to me. i'm too poor to appreciate these now. i'm a little bit hypocrite because i still have urges to spend, though none exceeding the five dollar per item mark. i suppose my imagination made up the masses of people swirling around me with greedily glazed eyes only focused on what next to buy. i honestly felt that if i were to stay more than three hours in the place, i too would've been hypnotised by the deception that spending money and spending money with friends and family was the purpose to life.

there's a high chance i'm being an idiot or that the paranoia of sleep deprevation is consuming me.

but i'm pretty sure the place reeked of greed. i used to live like that. now i wonder what stink i would've produced, working only to accumulate enough for that "other thing" which i apparently needed so badly. i've been desensitised so long.

i have a moral delemma. i have no money and therefore need a job to support myself as it's unfair for my parents to continue providing for me when i'm twenty years old because i have expenses i committed myself to which i would irresponsibly fail to meet if not for my gracious parents. however, after this afternoon, i don't want to go back. i don't want to work in that sort of environment. eighty percent of the sales assistants in the stores i walked into thought they were better than me - i know because their smiles were plastic and their inquiries, insincere.
the shop i wouldn't mind working at is oxfam - it being fairtrade and all.

anyway - i don't want to work in retail very much anymore. i want willingly to break my ties with consumerism, materialism and all things superficial. God, save me from this.

God,
save me from this.
Amen.

growing pains

I can't do this alone. But then again, I'm just passing through here...

And God permitting, we will do so. Hebrews6:3

It's one something pm in the afternoon and I feel heavy. So much more utterly exhausted than I remember being excited at the beginning of this week. The hardest stone to swallow is to acknowledge that although I feel like I've worked myself to no end with non-stop this and that's, when looking at the fruits of my labour, they are small...oh so very small. Looking out at the square mile of land I know needs toiling and digging and planting and watering and singing and loving is paralysing. I cannot wait till tomorrow- I might finally, the for first time, personally appreciate the Sabbath. That lovely day of rest I never understood was necessary. I don't even deserve it. I haven't created a whole new world full with incredible creatures and self-sustaining life forms in the past six days. I just want to crawl into the hug of an Almighty God, who could replenish my dry stamina with hope, purpose and love...so much love. I had forgotten how much loving people uses of your own when you forget you thirst for it to be returned. My throat is dry and my eyes are dark. But it's only been a week. I can't believe I'm this weak.

i can't decide what i feel.

The days, of late, have been gaining weight.

Not the sort of unwanted weight that girls exclaim as they examine their thighs. But the sort of weight that burns as you wake up with DOMS from a previous night of extreme exercise. Like the weight of urgency and the need to not waste time anymore. The exhaustion of productivity and the challenge to extend stamina. The discovery of efficiency and the want to be useful, knowledgeable and influential.

I heard the most beautiful acapella this afternoon on the radio. It was like...the wisp of a hearty and delightful aroma, warming and enticing...and unknown. Oh, what I'd give to learn of the song. I can't even recall any such lyrics. All I know is it was on Radio Eastern 98.1 FM about 12:30/1ish. Yes. It created the perfect condition with sunshine streaming in the window as I drove my shoddy little red, feeling all my cares evaporate, for as long as the 2 minutes song would free me.

I miss 70% of my friends. Because I hardly see them anymore. But I'm loving my new found freedom-purpose-productiveness. Sadly the two sort of collide.

I'll balance them later and sleep for now.

she's so highhh, high above me, she's so lovely

my best friend is stunning.

Why can't I be beautiful like her? MY MOH.

cost.

Unbeknownst to me, you gave everything I couldn't imagine,

when I couldn't give a damn.

from thought to type

I think I'm the biggest critic when it comes to the love between a man and a woman.

I'm also terrified of what on earth is happening everywhere around me. Such a deep sorrow has burrowed and made my heart it's home. I don't understand why. But pangs of heartbreak come in bouts every few days, sometimes at church, sometime when I'm alone. But I'm so afraid. Right now, I'm so afraid and disgustingly vulnerable. But when I feel my tear ducts well with salty water, I remember my children, whom I don't know very well. I think I'd die if something happened to any of them just because I forgot to care the past few months.

It's not good enough. My excuses, your excuses. It's not good enough. Because people are holding onto you. Because people rely on you. Because somewhere, somehow you proved you could be trusted, and someone sometime decided to hope in you, to believe in you and to give a little bit of themselves to you, for you to protect. So protect it with all you have! Because you have parts of your friends that will be destroyed if you are. You need to preserve the love, the hope, the joy that you have. You need to fight harder.

I need to live on behalf of the few friends of mine who are dying.

Somewhere in the only book I can trust, somebody wrote: Perfect love drives out all fear.
I cannot be afraid anymore. I don't have reason to. I am loved in perfect amounts. Peace.