new music thursday

because thursday just isn't that fantastic of a day all by itself.

be prepared...it's coming!

the pageant of the bizarre

i was listening to a song this morning. one of those good ones you find on your ipod and didn't even know you had. the one you put on repeat and listen to all morning.

yeah. you know what i mean.

there's something about it. the awkward accordian music. the synthesizers. the words that seem to describe exactly how you feel about yourself and your life in general.

it brought me to place i only see inside myself. i can't go there. i can't accurately describe to you what it would look like in real life. i can tell you how it feels.

odd.

the smells and the sights. the strange lighting and beautiful awkwardness of the setting. it's damp. and greenish gray. black. everything is old. and while it seems scary and morbid it's actually the most comfortable place i've ever known. lace and spiders and torn clothing. and loneliness. good, deep, self-sustaining loneliness.

kind of like a haunted house without the haunting and only i am there.

i like that place. and i can't avoid the fact that i'll never be full of hearts and flowers. the music of my soul will always be in a minor key. my head will always be full of metal and holes. i'll always have writing on my body.

and i'll never have non-descript blonde hair.

crosshairs

my joy is to rediscover who i am.
my joy is to decide for myself what i will be.
where i will go.
what i will do.

i feel wide-eyed.
the excitement is mixed with an overwhelming dread.
a healthy dread.
the dread of a woman with nothing and everything to lose.

but my true joy is in the constant.
for the first time in my life, some things are constant.
i have a church.
i'm friends with my family.
i have a home (it's too expensive, but i'm in love with it).
i have friends that want to keep me.
god and i have agreed to stay together. this time for keeps.

i exhort you to find joy in your constants.
excitement in your knowns.

the hard is what makes it great...

i think that learning how to really love someone as in for the long haul is hugely difficult.

i mean, i guess you already knew that. but in all seriousness, it's an amazing, beautiful, joyful, difficult, painful thing.

and i just realized that it goes on like this forever. this is what it means to really love a person.

also, on another note, did you ever feel like everything that came out of your mouth was dirty socks?

i feel a lot like that lately. dirty socks running rampant. not bad words, not hateful talk, not discouragement, but nasty dirty socks. necessary and useful (or at one time useful) but unpleasant. and ill-timed. and inappropriate in delivery and substance.

clumsy. bumbling. laborious. naive. childish.

this is how i feel about my dirty socks mouth today.

but i'll make it better. i promise.

seems like i have a history of this cycle. i feel like an israelite.

watch i'm gone...

like an acrobat.

wow. what if god told you to do something crazy?

i'm nervous....

images of broken light

pleasant things:

-reading a good book
-taking a bath
-wearing a warm and snuggly sweater that fits perfectly
-talking to a friend
-letting your heart flutter just a little (even though it's a bad idea generally)

cute things:

-a friend speaking with the blush of adoration of her husband of 13 years
-someone nervous to talk to me, trying to get my attention
-little old men with u.s. navy hats and tobacco pipes
-pig tails

and in the words of levi:
rude is bad, penguins are good.
amen.

we'll build us a home out of packaging foam...

i've been thinking about birds lately. i have one. he's precious.

i mean, i've even gotten used to his twirtling and scuffling about in the morning. he's a very nice alarm clock. he likes to wake up about 30 minutes before i need to.

earlier this week was hard. i am out of money. O-U-T. and i ran out of bird seed too! so i was thinking about this little bird. my baby. reliant on me for everything, toys, food, water. he loves music. i love to hear him talk. but i decided to use what little money i did get on myself. and then there are the times when i just plain forget to take care of him.

it makes me think of being in love. sometimes, one person is the human, and the other person is the bird. i tend to be the bird.

okay, i usually end up being the bird.

the bird relishes every bit of attention. the bird waits all day long for some notice or acknowledgement from the person.

fluff the feathers.
dance around with music.
show off.
beg for the object of affection to watch.

you didn't feed me. you forgot my water for days. but all i want is you to sit by me for a little bit and notice me.

i'm only a bird, but i'll defend you. i'm jealous. i don't trust them.

but you i love.

here's the question. why do we let them cage us?