Aren't we all damaged goods? We have this free will, which can possibly lead us to make bad decisions or to put our trust in others who make bad decisions. The consequences of these decisions color us, tattoo us, shape and mold us. We build on it or let it drag us down. We can prove it wrong or let it define us. Is it considered damage if it betters us in the end, these wrong turns? When is the proper time to decide a decision's the wrong one? Can you make that determination a month later, a year, fifty years? Really, can any decision be the wrong one when every one of them has made you into the person that you are?
Will I ever stop asking questions?
Saturday, December 4, 2010
I Need That To Be Enough For You
I can't seem to get enough of this blogging thing. Making up for lost years perhaps.
I figured I'd talk about what I know...myself. As I began thinking about what I might write, I realized I'm so different from the myself of just a few years ago. I assume that's the case for most people, but I've amazed myself at the changes.
First and foremost, I'm a Christian. I no longer look to what I do or how I feel to tell me who I am. I know that Jesus is the only way - the way, the truth, and the life, and I'm happy to say it even though I know it will turn some people off. I'm not here to shove anything down anyone's throats, but He's done so much in my life, I'd be a fool to down play it. And if my testimony can save another's eternal life, then I am humbled. I go to Bible studies Tuesdays and Thursdays after work (we're doing Psalm 119 and Proverbs currently) and I try to make it to both Sunday and Wednesday night services at my amazing little church. I have found lasting joy that is always with me, even on my worst days.
I'm also a veggie-trying-to-be-vegan. I've been able to do the vegetarian thing easily...it's the vegan that's becoming tougher. It's expensive to be veggie/vegan, especially since I'm unable to cook anything more than noodles or pre-made foods that just need heating up in the microwave or oven. I'm thinking I better develop a sudden love for cooking if I'm going to make the vegan life work. And since my body now seems to demand vegan, I may be in trouble. I find that my system can no longer process milk and cheese and I develop acid reflux when I don't eat vegan. I've had days where I say oh well and indulge in my old favorites like pizza or macaroni & cheese and I pay dearly for it. I brought this lactose intolerance upon myself, so it seems I better take responsibility and learn to cook.
Logically I figure I must be obsessed with food since a look in the mirror tells me that I don't go without and when I'm with friends, we always seem to end up eating, but honestly I'm just not all that interested in food. I don't think about it all the time and I have no interest in learning about new recipies. I've been searching all kinds of vegan blogs and they all talk about cooking and have yummy-looking pics, but they just don't interest me. I bought all kinds of vegan cooking ingredients, but have used very little of them. Most of it tends to go bad before I get to them. I can go to the fridge and stare, trying to find something already made that I wouldn't have to work for, a grab-n-go kind of deal...and I'll walk away when there's nothing to fit that bill, only to return 15 minutes later and repeat the cycle. A bit self-defeating I think.
I love music and pay close attention to the lyrics. The lyrics can make all the difference for me - whether like turns to love. I can play a song over and over and over again if the lyrics touch me. A bit of that coherence-love thing perhaps. I've recently taken to constantly adding to my YouTube favorites list and letting it play over and over. Gravitating towards single female artists with just a guitar or a piano.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel of my debt. I made a lot of mistakes in the past financially, beginning with my first credit card at the age of 17. Bad choices compounded, but I am finally down to one last card to pay off, almost under a thousand dollars. Now, of course, I have mountains of student loan debt, but I don't count that, especially since I am in the process of adding to it, haha.
I have pushed my relationship with my father past it's limits, at least his limits. I'm not sure how to fix it, or even if I can...but I want to. I haven't really talked to him in over 7 months and it's been almost 2 months since he told me he's done. I live in denial to make it through the days, especially since I have to see him almost daily. He had expectations of me and I just couldn't meet them. I know I've let him down and I haven't been an easy child, but I never meant to hurt him like I have. I wasn't intending to even mention this, but I guess it sort of defines me where I'm at right now.
"I don't wanna be her, I just wanna be little old me.
I shouldn't have to think, who am I supposed to be today?
And what gave you the right to tell me who I should be?
Who gave you that right?
Cause I feel lovely just the way that I am.
Yes, I feel lovely the way that I am.
I know you want the best, yeah only good things for me.
But you have to realize I can't be all these things you project on me.
Cause I'm beautiful to me, doesn't that mean a thing?
I feel lovely just the way that I am.
Yes I, I feel lovely the way that I am.
I need that to be enough for you.
I need that to be enough for you.
Cause it's enough for me, it's enough for me.
Am I supposed to give up everything I am just to make you happy?
I thought I was the one you always wanted me to be.
It turns out, I'm just little old me.
I'm just little old me, and that's fine by me.
Cause I, I am lovely just the way that I am."
Sara Haze, Lovely
I figured I'd talk about what I know...myself. As I began thinking about what I might write, I realized I'm so different from the myself of just a few years ago. I assume that's the case for most people, but I've amazed myself at the changes.
First and foremost, I'm a Christian. I no longer look to what I do or how I feel to tell me who I am. I know that Jesus is the only way - the way, the truth, and the life, and I'm happy to say it even though I know it will turn some people off. I'm not here to shove anything down anyone's throats, but He's done so much in my life, I'd be a fool to down play it. And if my testimony can save another's eternal life, then I am humbled. I go to Bible studies Tuesdays and Thursdays after work (we're doing Psalm 119 and Proverbs currently) and I try to make it to both Sunday and Wednesday night services at my amazing little church. I have found lasting joy that is always with me, even on my worst days.
I'm also a veggie-trying-to-be-vegan. I've been able to do the vegetarian thing easily...it's the vegan that's becoming tougher. It's expensive to be veggie/vegan, especially since I'm unable to cook anything more than noodles or pre-made foods that just need heating up in the microwave or oven. I'm thinking I better develop a sudden love for cooking if I'm going to make the vegan life work. And since my body now seems to demand vegan, I may be in trouble. I find that my system can no longer process milk and cheese and I develop acid reflux when I don't eat vegan. I've had days where I say oh well and indulge in my old favorites like pizza or macaroni & cheese and I pay dearly for it. I brought this lactose intolerance upon myself, so it seems I better take responsibility and learn to cook.
Logically I figure I must be obsessed with food since a look in the mirror tells me that I don't go without and when I'm with friends, we always seem to end up eating, but honestly I'm just not all that interested in food. I don't think about it all the time and I have no interest in learning about new recipies. I've been searching all kinds of vegan blogs and they all talk about cooking and have yummy-looking pics, but they just don't interest me. I bought all kinds of vegan cooking ingredients, but have used very little of them. Most of it tends to go bad before I get to them. I can go to the fridge and stare, trying to find something already made that I wouldn't have to work for, a grab-n-go kind of deal...and I'll walk away when there's nothing to fit that bill, only to return 15 minutes later and repeat the cycle. A bit self-defeating I think.
I love music and pay close attention to the lyrics. The lyrics can make all the difference for me - whether like turns to love. I can play a song over and over and over again if the lyrics touch me. A bit of that coherence-love thing perhaps. I've recently taken to constantly adding to my YouTube favorites list and letting it play over and over. Gravitating towards single female artists with just a guitar or a piano.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel of my debt. I made a lot of mistakes in the past financially, beginning with my first credit card at the age of 17. Bad choices compounded, but I am finally down to one last card to pay off, almost under a thousand dollars. Now, of course, I have mountains of student loan debt, but I don't count that, especially since I am in the process of adding to it, haha.
I have pushed my relationship with my father past it's limits, at least his limits. I'm not sure how to fix it, or even if I can...but I want to. I haven't really talked to him in over 7 months and it's been almost 2 months since he told me he's done. I live in denial to make it through the days, especially since I have to see him almost daily. He had expectations of me and I just couldn't meet them. I know I've let him down and I haven't been an easy child, but I never meant to hurt him like I have. I wasn't intending to even mention this, but I guess it sort of defines me where I'm at right now.
"I don't wanna be her, I just wanna be little old me.
I shouldn't have to think, who am I supposed to be today?
And what gave you the right to tell me who I should be?
Who gave you that right?
Cause I feel lovely just the way that I am.
Yes, I feel lovely the way that I am.
I know you want the best, yeah only good things for me.
But you have to realize I can't be all these things you project on me.
Cause I'm beautiful to me, doesn't that mean a thing?
I feel lovely just the way that I am.
Yes I, I feel lovely the way that I am.
I need that to be enough for you.
I need that to be enough for you.
Cause it's enough for me, it's enough for me.
Am I supposed to give up everything I am just to make you happy?
I thought I was the one you always wanted me to be.
It turns out, I'm just little old me.
I'm just little old me, and that's fine by me.
Cause I, I am lovely just the way that I am."
Sara Haze, Lovely
Friday, December 3, 2010
Calling It Art Doesn't Make It So
I've never considered myself very creative. My imagination is seriously lacking and I'm not sure I remember a time when it wasn't. Was it a loss of innocence, is everyone born with a natural imagination?
The most I remember as a child is playing out the scenes from our favorite video games like Legend of Zelda. In college, I had the hardest time coming up with concepts and subjects for my papers. I'd ask my sister, even my mother for ideas (and if you knew my relationship with my mother, you'd know I was seriously reaching). I'd even google written papers for something, for an idea, for a concept. Once I had an idea, I could never figure out where to take it, where it should lead. When I tried to be clever, I was obvious and juvenile, getting called out in class by the professor (though, bless his heart, he didn't use my name...I just blushed inwardly in humiliation). I would tell this crazy story with a perfect ending (I'm a big fan of happy endings), only to have the character wake up and it all be a dream. It was shameful at best. The only stories I could tell easily were real ones, things I'd experienced, things that actually happened. Even then, I'd use aliases to keep identities secret, and I would get confused and constantly have to re-read the beginning of the story to remember what name I gave to each person. I remember once having to make a cheat sheet and use it to double check my paper because I had interchanged the names of a couple so-called "characters" repeatedly.
When I would turn in a paper, I wasn't even sure if it was any good and I secretly feared I would be found out, so I wrote non-fiction for my fiction class and fiction for my non-fiction class. I just haven't ever done well writing non-fiction, though it is my favorite to read. One would think with the incredible number of books I've read in my life that I'd at least have a clue, even if it meant copying ideas or style, but alas, no. The editing of the papers, now that comes much more naturally. I need an artist to write, then I can make it pretty, I can polish it until it shines. But creating coherence isn't art just because I say it is.
"I am not responsible for this shattered tapestry, everything was painted upon me. The shadow of a broken past compromised my innocence. Now I'm left with dots that don't connect." ~ Sara Haze, Colored On Me
The most I remember as a child is playing out the scenes from our favorite video games like Legend of Zelda. In college, I had the hardest time coming up with concepts and subjects for my papers. I'd ask my sister, even my mother for ideas (and if you knew my relationship with my mother, you'd know I was seriously reaching). I'd even google written papers for something, for an idea, for a concept. Once I had an idea, I could never figure out where to take it, where it should lead. When I tried to be clever, I was obvious and juvenile, getting called out in class by the professor (though, bless his heart, he didn't use my name...I just blushed inwardly in humiliation). I would tell this crazy story with a perfect ending (I'm a big fan of happy endings), only to have the character wake up and it all be a dream. It was shameful at best. The only stories I could tell easily were real ones, things I'd experienced, things that actually happened. Even then, I'd use aliases to keep identities secret, and I would get confused and constantly have to re-read the beginning of the story to remember what name I gave to each person. I remember once having to make a cheat sheet and use it to double check my paper because I had interchanged the names of a couple so-called "characters" repeatedly.
When I would turn in a paper, I wasn't even sure if it was any good and I secretly feared I would be found out, so I wrote non-fiction for my fiction class and fiction for my non-fiction class. I just haven't ever done well writing non-fiction, though it is my favorite to read. One would think with the incredible number of books I've read in my life that I'd at least have a clue, even if it meant copying ideas or style, but alas, no. The editing of the papers, now that comes much more naturally. I need an artist to write, then I can make it pretty, I can polish it until it shines. But creating coherence isn't art just because I say it is.
"I am not responsible for this shattered tapestry, everything was painted upon me. The shadow of a broken past compromised my innocence. Now I'm left with dots that don't connect." ~ Sara Haze, Colored On Me
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Life and Purpose
I haven't blogged in years...all the way back to the time when they still called them diaries. Free Open Diary, I believe. Sadly I can't find those early posts, though not for lack of trying. I think they'd be fun to read.
And so, I haven't decided just what I'll use this for. Perhaps venting, perhaps as a record of my writing when the writing will come, perhaps observations, I suppose time will tell. I'll have to let it happen organically. I just hope that I can live up to the blog's name, so as a reminder mostly for myself, here's what the dictionary says about coherence:
"The quality or state of cohering, especially a logical, orderly, and aesthetically consistent relationship of parts."
Love it when the dictionary defines a word by using the word. Coherence is cohering. Genius.
To me, coherence used in linguistics basically means writing in such a way that is pleasing and smooth and eloquent. Taking dissonance, adding and subtracting words and phrases, creating sentences and paragraphs that sound pretty, intelligent, and dreamy when read. Aesthetic...a word that in itself denotes beauty and even sounds beautiful when said.
So cheers to beauty. Cheers to purpose. Cheers to life.
And so, I haven't decided just what I'll use this for. Perhaps venting, perhaps as a record of my writing when the writing will come, perhaps observations, I suppose time will tell. I'll have to let it happen organically. I just hope that I can live up to the blog's name, so as a reminder mostly for myself, here's what the dictionary says about coherence:
"The quality or state of cohering, especially a logical, orderly, and aesthetically consistent relationship of parts."
Love it when the dictionary defines a word by using the word. Coherence is cohering. Genius.
To me, coherence used in linguistics basically means writing in such a way that is pleasing and smooth and eloquent. Taking dissonance, adding and subtracting words and phrases, creating sentences and paragraphs that sound pretty, intelligent, and dreamy when read. Aesthetic...a word that in itself denotes beauty and even sounds beautiful when said.
So cheers to beauty. Cheers to purpose. Cheers to life.
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