1.21 gigawatts??

my car was filthy, so i vacuumed it. but it was raining. i tried pulling it as close to the garage as possible but by the time all the crumbs disappeared and the carpets were febrezed, my entire hoodie was soaked, as well as the front seat. then it occurred to me, that's why every car should have doors like this.

just one more reason why the 80's are easily the best decade, ever.

welcome to september

i hope you didn't notice me staring, wide-eyed and mouth agape. it's just that i didn't expect to see you three times in one day. i remembered passing you this morning on my way into town. there aren't many hitchhikers around here so any body on the roadside is new. summer still sweeps through the air but your shoulders were hunched as you clutched a half eaten sandwich to your chest. i slowed down to 50 as i passed you by and i remember thinking rhetorically 'Jesus?'. must have been the long brown hair - yours matches the nearly every church painting.

you can imagine my surprise then when three hours later i saw you again; i guess i assumed someone would pick you up on their way. this time, we were both heading the same direction. i might have stopped to drive you the remaining few miles into town if i wasn't already late for work. i didn't know you were headed to the store, that i would see you here now.

the people i work for, they needed me to run an errand and pick up some milk. do you see me? probably not, you must pass a lot of cars and faces walking 20 miles in a day. you're heading in and i'm just leaving, but i want to say hi. your sandwich is gone; are you still hungry? i would buy you something to eat, if i had time. but they needed me back at the office, sorry.
maybe next time?

and sometimes, silence is the only sound

vivaldi's four seasons. get into it.

sometimes the unexplained can define you

and there are moments i just want to run away from it all. the other afternoon, for instance. as drove by i some railroad tracks, a queue of dully painted train cars caught my attention.

there is something quite romantic about train cars. not candle lit dinner or getting engaged romantic; more like rocky beaches and tea on rainy days...nostalgia i suppose, though i have no idea why trains would carry any significantly warm memories for me. only two train experiences stick out. one was part of a scenic half hour tour in strausburg with a snack bar and cushy seats, like the kinds they have in churches. the other, when i was five and i distinctly remember chewing bubble yum, not making it to the bathroom on time, and not being able to sleep (the latter being the result of the former). and still, the boxcar children lined my childhood bookshelves and the train scene in fried green tomatoes still remains one of my favorites. trains evoke a sense of adventure, travel, spontaneity. perhaps that's what came over me the other day.

the longer i gazed at those three stoic cars, the more inviting they became. i conjured up an adventure and i watched myself pull the car off the road. think of it. leaving everything for a large rusty box and a trip to anywhere. would people wonder where i had gone? but that mystery would only add to the excitement. i could have a tent in the woods via some cargo in a train.

i didn't go through with it. but someday, maybe. hopefully...
if you haven't heard from me in awhile, your best bet is to start checking the next train that rolls into town.

there's a type of freedom that can tie you down

the mind of a 4 year old, and other revelations.

"ok now we have to pray. hold your hands together and say what i say. hey, keep your eyes shut!
dear God, i love you and have a good night and sleep well and brush my teeth. amen. ok, now i have to do my crab walk."

i wish i could go into all that's being unveiled to me right now. sadly though, i'm not aware of a lot of it either. i'm lately overwhelmed, in both good and bad ways and the only recent realization i can share is that it's not about where i am going, or what i am doing, but who i am becoming. forget about careers, jobs, my "calling". seeking His face is my calling.

there's a certain kind of pain that can numb you

it's raining outside tonight. no torrential downpours, just a soft, misty summer rain. this weekend has been one of constant goodbyes. yesterday stephen left for college, and i said goodbye to jon too since i won't see him either. tonight i hugged two heathers goodbye; a friend and a cousin. and tomorrow i'm leaving again as well. i suppose the rain is appropriate then. it's set my mood, a gentle sadness. i've stopped fighting goodbyes, but the goodbyes have yet to become easy.

in open fields of wild flowers

there was a time not so long ago when i truly lived life. i didn't just see things, i experienced them. music didn't just shatter silence, it expressed emotion. moments didn't just happen, they were seized. spinning in fields made me dizzy. staring at stars made me feel small. flying kites made me feel light. laying in the middle of the road made me...well, crazy i guess. deep conversations inspired me to be a better person. genuinely caring for someone, no strings attached, made me hope Love could change the world. i couldn't stop time but i didn't feel crushed in its routine or rushed in its urgent passing. i suppose i was ignorantly living the fine line between patience and expectancy. was.

gradually i became lost in the paranoia of people pleasing...what would they think of me? and it wasn't all spurred on by vapid assumptions. i KNEW what people thought of me...i know what they still think of me. it's amazing how you can spend your whole life completely innocent, your motives entirely pure, and all it takes is one person questioning your intent, doubting it even, to make you second guess everything you do and everything you are. and i know it's because i don't allow my entire source of validity to come from the one Being whose opinion outweighs any human's. and i don't mean for this to sound like an excuse...but it's hard. especially when the people who pass the most judgements read out of the same Book you do.

Silencing the most tangible voices in order to hear the invisible whisper isn't easy. still, i'm trying to let go, let myself be free, let myself be. ironic though, trying to do the state of being.