Torn

Torn

At first she thought that this arrangement fit her perfectly.
That there was no need to rush.
No need to pretend.
No need to be anything other than what already was.
To live and savor the moment.
The perfect arrangement it seemed.

Then the voice of reason that she so conveniently shut out whispered in her ear.
Mocked her.
Questioned her.
Reminded her…
About all the previous arrangements she had been in before.
The euphoria and exhilaration of it all
And the emptiness and hurt that was sure to follow close behind.

She should know better the voice said.
Don’t be stupid it taunted.
Don’t think that this time it would be any different.

So she is torn into wanting the present and thinking about the future.
Unsure to be reckless or to be logical.
Wanting to wait and wanting to bolt.
Weighing the options of thinking with her heart or thinking with her mind.
She is torn…
Because both roads vie in opposite directions.
Just torn.

Trust Him

Trust Him when dark doubts assail thee
Trust Him when thy strength is small,
Trust Him when to simply trust Him
Seems the hardest thing of all.
Trust Him, He is ever faithful;
Trust Him, for His will is best;
Trust Him, for the Heart of Jesus,
Is the only place of rest.

- Salesian Missons -

DW status updates

DW is hungover on silliness.
DW is waiting for her sandwich and coffee.
DW did a 24 hour day which ended with DVDs from 5am - 8am ~ Brilliant!
DW is going to church with Sunshine.
DW wishes you would speak to her again.
DW can't wait to start planning her grand adventure.
DW would love it if she blinked her eyes and
everything would clean and sort itself out.
DW is learning the intricacies of the heart.
DW is itching to paint again.
DW is excited about tomorrow's hike.
DW hopes that there will not be any blardy leeches.
DW hates the crimson tides.
DW is wondering what would happen if she raised the stakes.
DW withdrew her stakes.
DW is still waiting for her sandwich and coffee.
DW is still searching for inspiration in interesting places.
DW needs to work over the weekend but
is choosing to pretend the work does not exist.
DW is hungry and wishes the freaking food would come.
DW would like some dessert.
DW suspects the delivery man is lost - sigh.
DW over tipped the delivery man cos she was hungry.
DW is content that it is the weekend and
that she can bum around in her boxes
watching DVDs, drinking ice cold mocha
and eating her yummy sarnie ~ uber happiness.
DW's happiness level reaches 8.2.

These Words

Do not look forward
to the changes
and chances of this life
in fear;
rather look to them
with full hope that,
as they arise,
God, whose you are,
will deliver you out of them.

- St. Francis De Sales -

These words bring me comfort.

And I pray that the pain and sickness cease

and that things be as they should.

What I wanted to say

I have not packed.

I am tired.

My momentary fix and the euphoria has vanished

and as predicted and as always I feel depressed,

sad, bitter, angry and lonely.

I had the urge to call you and talk to you,

but we haven't been talking for awhile now...

and just at that moment,

I had so many things I wanted to say to you...

fragments of memories that I remembered about you and I

but I didn't call and of course, neither did you.

I don't feel well.

I am scared.

I hope its just me being silly.

I hate suppliers sometimes.

I hate the dumb ass ppl that I have to work with.

I am going crazy just waiting for freaking artwork at 2:30am.

I hate hoaxes.

I hate imposed guilt trips.

I horribly dislike it when ppl command me to do things.

I miss my granny.

I wish she was still alive.

I miss my other grandparents.

I wish they were alive too.

I wish you were here.

You could always make me feel better...

or at least you tried your very best to make me feel better.

Today.

Today, things will change for the better.

Note to self #1

Note to self #1: Books don't make you smarter by sitting on your shelves!

My August

My August has been torn of the calendar.

I feel it rushed by too quickly.

There were so many things that happened in this simple month of August.

My August.

Things happened in My August that I never quite understood.

Memories and days blended one into the other,

colliding, seemingly uncherished,

soaring, tumbling,

whisking by too quickly.

The moments vanished...

the sighs, scars, heartbeats and embraces,

a blink and it was lost in time.

A figment of my own crazy over active imagination it seems.

So many things to write about.

So many thoughts to sift through.

So many emotions to upload to blogspot,

which has now become my only emotional sinkhole.

Perhaps one day when work does not beckon,

when the poker table and chips are not laid out,

when the lads are not a callin',

when the books and DVDs stop tauntin...

that will be the day

when I have the heart and the will to write it all down,

to make sense of My August.

But... till then,

you remain near and

yet so very far.