That One Pastor's Kid...'s Blurty|
[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
That One Pastor's Kid...'s Blurty:
[ << Previous 20 ]
[ << Previous 20 ]
|Monday, August 9th, 2004|
I gave in.
If only Blurty ran better.
*shakes his head
|Monday, August 2nd, 2004|
I'm enraged. I don't feel that I should say anything, but hey, I'm sorry, if you get to be so blunt, I get at least one freaking shot.
A question often posed about homosexuality. "What does Jesus say about it?"
And yet Jesus openly attacks divorce.
I ask you, which is going to cause more harm to marriage? Divorce, or a whole bunch of gay people in love?
And if Jesus only mentioned one of the two, which is supposedly more important to Christianity?
And which issue do the Conservatives care about?
I thought so.
My last question, before I leave my flaming liberal propoganda on my blog because you people have ticked me off so freaking much that it's my turn and I won't even say what I really really want to talk about.
|Sunday, August 1st, 2004|
I don't even know what this is...
An odd feeling in the pit of my stomach
Not even empty, just… disconnected.
I need to be grounded without this feeling of looseness,
Of being unguided.
To do something and not lose whatever it is that keeps me going.
Because I’m not sad
I’m just… not here.
|Wednesday, July 28th, 2004|
I'm still going...
My heart is a marionette
with the heartstrings thrown out
among the masses.
Some are more controlling
with their overpowering wrenching pulls,
while others are light, and gently tug.
No one knows nor can guess
the puppet’s response to their call.
The puppet itself does not know.
It only dances to the will
of the heartstrings,
tugging first one way
then the other.
Just give me the orange moon
peaking out between the branches.
A cool breeze chills the body,
but I am warm.
It is a wonderful warmth,
It just fills me with the light of sunshine
or the full moon.
Tonight’s is an orange moon.
Only a crest, but it is enough.
Enough for me, tonight, with the world.
|Monday, July 26th, 2004|
Oh, and no one wished me a merry half birthday today. I was dissapointed....
Hmm, I lied. Seven. I was just inspired tonight....
Lay back on the hard asphault.
Uncomfortable, with biting rocks.
You don't care.
Stare at the wispy clouds in the sky.
A plane passes by,
underneat the smiling spectacle
of the faces in the sky.
Under an elephant's trunk,
or over the mast of a pirate ship.
It blocks the sun for a moment,
and you continue to stare.
Imagine yourself flying through the clouds.
Grass tickles your ear.
Adjust your body.
Take off your hat.
Look at the pinpoints lighting up the sky.
Slowly they appear
one by one as the sun sets
little lights creep into your picture.
Smile, and think about taking the hand next to yours.
Don't give in.
Just keep looking at those lances of light
pricking your thoughts
and creating your memory.
Pictures of the Sun
The sun setting over the mountains
green and lush with the pine.
A red rainbow sky peers at you
on your ledge, feet dangling.
Your face absorbs the fading light
and it reaches down to touch your soul.
A soft smile.
Lean up against the tree
and hear the skurry above.
Love life and its beauty.
A sunrise above the glassy lake,
frozen with a white dust blanket.
The chill touches your body.
Shiver with the need for warmth
but stay to receive the glow.
Hug your knees.
The light arks into the sky,
the sun traces is slow path into the air
and touches the clouds.
I was going to write something gloomy and depressing to go with my current mood, but I've decided I am just this way because I'm tired. I'm just trying to be who I am. It'll work eventually. So I'm just going to try to paint a picture. Is that okay with everyone?
The crunch of orange leaves under the feet
bring soft smells of autumn to your nose.
A brush of sound
and you turn to see a squirrel flash up a tree.
The deer hop away
after their big eyes roll over you
in their jumpy anticipation.
Hands in pockets as the cool breeze flutters up leaves
and drops them on your jacket.
Crumble one in your hand
and let the pieces fall slowly
to the ground.
Your other hand wrapped tight in anothers.
Around a campfire
the crackling sparks dance
leaving patches of light
in their wake.
Snatches of song hum through your lips
but are stopped by another's song.
The hooting of an owl.
The rustle of leaves.
Pull your blanket around you closer
and look up at the full moon,
Snuggle up close to share the warmth.
Heavy boots track through snow
a wide open field of the glittering, cold crystals.
Yours are not the first tracks.
Don't notice the movement of a rabbit run past,
but you see the marks.
Light, as if only brushing the ground.
Touch touch touch.
Not like your footsteps.
Crunch crunch crunch.
Wish to be light like a rabbit
and just touch.
throw a snowball
and play in the crystal field.
Okay, maybe three pictures.
|Saturday, July 24th, 2004|
Thank you Joe Crede
|Friday, July 23rd, 2004|
Make that four apples...
|Tuesday, July 20th, 2004|
So should I toss in the white flag? Your words sorely tempt me to, my friend.
Give me your passion. I want it. I need it. I have my passion for ideals, my dreams, but I'm cynical when it comes to love. Give me a taste of what it actually means to be devoted without doubt and maybe then, I can be as happy as you have been. I refuse to "compete."
Sit and hear the bird sing softly into your ear.
Watch her flutter lightly around the room
twittering away with her laughter.
She makes you smile.
Smile as she lands softly on your finger
serenade you with her song.
She knows what you love,
what you need to hear.
A bright cheery song
that will lift your heart away into the clouds,
away from your restless soul.
Yes, she knows, and she calls to you.
|Friday, July 16th, 2004|
Apple just beyond the reach
Of a hungry man
Thrice taken away.
So it would not be stolen from another.
|Monday, July 12th, 2004|
Fighting a losing battle for the need to go to sleep. I'm becoming an insomniac. Great.
I have this feeling of prolonged frustration, like I don't know what I'm doing. There is so much I have to be doing at any given moment that I end up just... not doing it. Rather odd I know, but Lord, sometimes everything just gets to me. Especially when I'm alone, with no one to talk to. My trips were so good to me, so relaxing, but now I'm back at home and I feel there's nothing I can do. Maybe that's the problem. I feel the need to do something, to "be on the offensive" if you will, but as much as I want to, there's really nothing I can do without... there's really nothing I can do. In the silence I lose my motivation. What am I doing? Why am I doing it? The answer keeps becoming "because that's what you do." But that's really not an answer. It's an excuse not to find out why you do what you do. Sad thing is, I can't find it. I can't pinpoint the thought well enough to find it. And that sucks.
Life is a big cruel bowl of beans.
I wish I could be as blunt as you are Mike.
|Sunday, July 11th, 2004|
Hmmm, so we shall put it to a simple vote. Do I cut my hair like my mom wants me to? Hehe, please give your opinion... regardless of your disposition towards hippies
|Tuesday, July 6th, 2004|
Have you ever wondered at how powerful the spoken word is? A story is so much more effective when told aloud then on paper, a poem has so much more feeling, and the words "I love you" or "you are forgiven" mean so much more. To say them yourself, ah yes, it is much more difficult, but I must say to all, if given the choice, it is the better of the two.
|Thursday, July 1st, 2004|
YEE HAW ANOTHER 8 HOURS AT HOME!!!
AND THE SOX ARE IN FIRST PLACE AGAIN! We did it we did it *does a little dance
if only for today ;)
|Saturday, June 26th, 2004|
Errr... it's nine forty five out here... and eleven forty five by my personal clock. Ugh. I'm so tired... I just want to be at home away from everything. Grrr at constant travel. At least I have a computer now though... without AIM. Anyone know that instant AIM service you don't have to download? I totally forgot what it is...
Do not doubt my intentions.
Doubt my actions.
Help me do what I intend to do
and not what I'll end up doing.
|Friday, June 25th, 2004|
Wow... 12 hours at home, and yes Jeri and Sarah you missed me again. Be prepared.
Trips were great. Can't describe, too many conversations.
So hi to all. Have a nice summer...