Stop. Breathe. Remember God's Simplicity...

In some ways, I miss the company given by apartment walls. I have grown up and moved out since a child, but when I visit my mom, I remember what I did not like about apartments and the one thing I do.  To those who have never been given the privilege to live in one, let me educate you in saying that each wall has a story: the wall in my kitchen tells me of a woman and her two children Dinner is in an hour, not a big snack! Mom! Tell Nicole to give me my necklace! She TOOK my necklace! she sometimes yells, and her sigh always precedes it as if helpless and exasperated I never hear a male voice One wall in the main bedroom plays television crime shows, all day, all night. CSI, NCIS, LAW & ORDER, JUDGE JUDY, JUDGE MATHIS emotionless, dull, aloof, solitude, sadness My sister's bedroom wall is quiet during the day, Role play and improvisation laughter and bed squeaks rehearsal at night curtain call around 2 The bathroom walls conduct symphonies of flushes and w

When there is no inspiration, the mind is mellow and the body remains dormant. 1000 obstacles move rapidly together, but the body moves through quick sand and hardly keeps up with the lack of progress. of desire, of motivation. To do,or write, or believe something like the wonderfully impossible as possible. That a sparrow could sing with a chorus of stars, and the fish can dance to these rhythms through Poseidon's current. Anything to pluck the strings of creativity, to remain "in tune". Anything to break the forth wall of imagination.

My words are heavy when I produce them sinking to the ground before they are heard destroyed,demolished, every minuscule word as they clash with the cement, they're condemned  I began writing my words with pencil in order to add color to my dull speech so a bigger audience could be reached but this was also the wrong utensil I learned pencil adds areas in shades of grey and causing doubt to my level of intellect the root and cause, I cannot detect so there's no importances to what I say

When I'm old, I want laughing wrinkles to form like the rings inside tree trunks, collecting wisdom, and age over time, but telling a story of the series of heart aches, and trials and how they were washed away by joy, of being loved by a loving being, and the feeling of every problem being a mole hill. They will leave their mark on my skin, carved with the utmost care. I want the world to see that my sadness never became a part of me, but my smiles did.

I feel that we are no better than Judas. How often do we practice betrayal? We sell out Jesus for petty treasures For friends, with school, over-consumption of alcohol, lies,ridicules,gossip, adultery, through the movies we watch and music we listen to. No matter how compassionate, and understanding He is, We betray him, And above all else, seal it with a kiss.

Two for one special. Oh how special am I? I feel heartless, full of emotion but no where to put it. How did this happen? This has never happened to me before! Oh God, You are so comical. Hilarious!! Give me a moment to stir up laughter. Sorry I didn't laugh sooner, I've just been drop kicked to Tim-Buck-Two and pimp slapped with a two-by-four. But hey, this is life, yes? You told me what I needed to hear, and I heard what I wanted to hear. My fault, I get it. So now what? After all is said and done, I'm still cornered with limited options. I'm scared. I'm nervous. Who do I go to for advice? Because I am thought of as being strong, and the strong are never weak, and the weak can never help the strong, so who do I turn to? ... .. . I am pathetic.

Salinas, sister of Escondido and Elsinore. I am with you always. No matter where my nomadic feet wander off to, you draw me in, and I feel that comfort I have not felt since I was a child. You are my home. My center of gravity. The street fair musician's drum beats rhythmically with my heartbeat. I breath in tune with the childrens' laughter. It's remarkable how happy a community is without money or earthly treasures holding them down. My ears bleed at the sound of your name stripped of genuine welcome and battered by drivers and pass-byers. The bubblegum scars and aged beauty does not fool me. You're beautiful to anyone who stops to learn. You may not be perfect, but you show true contentment. Show me the sweet majesty of imperfection, Salinas, and I'll inhale deeply.

Childish pastimes were always this in my eyes, the lies he and she buys came to no surprise, and I never sympathized with their ties to immature ogreism because at one point they all do and one day if they're lucky they see and agree there is an irony, life is not care-free, but a symphony of let-downs and devastation handed down from one shmuck to another via debris we call words  I may have a chip on my shoulder, but know that I knew at 5 or 6 years old that life was no cartoon comic strip, to carry a stiff upper lip and prepare for it one hardship at a time and if you let one iota of optimism slip, your heart gets ripped out of your chest with no courtesy warning, that's life. Get a grip. I wish I knew what it felt like to wake without apprehension, to not pay attention, or have retention of the consequences my actions and to live in this alternative dimension and I wish this conversation was not condescension , but I can't help my frustration. Oka

Courageous. No one could take that title away from her. She's afraid, but that does not dissuade her. She has the profound gift of in-depth vision. She knows this world is much bigger than she is, shadowing over her like a wave superiority, but instead of fighting it,she accepts it and leaves the world in a state of perplexity. This makes her stronger. Battle won.

When I'm sad, can't make me glad, Not when all I've had is gone, you'll just make me mad. Nothing can alleviate the porous pain I have. Don't punish the young that resides in my eyes with belittling words from the tongue swung like dung, SMACK, to the wall. self-value is low, although, the slow blow, should be seen from a mile away like a crow's eye view   With that known, I retreat alone, secure on my personal throne, feelings unshown, and the heart on my sleeve,OH so carefully sewn I abhor, ripped off my clothing, no longer a part of me, suited to battle this turmoil war, I still can't ignore, still unsure, I let out a roar, to release the sore,  from the crevices of  my disappointment. Take rest and know, that he is not yours. Someone else's someone. I have not been crossed. I have not lost. Eyes glossed, this future future embossed, there is a cost to loving, and being loved, and living.

How quickly we're entitled. Justice will prevail. Osama must die, and don't you dare cry; the bastard did not deserve jail. How quickly we're entitled. Jesus showed us love somehow we can  hate, and don't have to relate or know what sin is made of. How quickly we're entitled. In no way are we the same. With a bullet to the head, Osama is dead, and we can walk without shame.

1. The only person that can ever truly make you happy is yourself. Stop depending on everyone else. 2. People lie, stuff happens. Don’t take it too personally. 3. Want people to think you’re amazing? Start believing you are, and then they will too. 4. Smiling is the ultimate anti-depressant. Smile and laugh out loud, it doesn’t look stupid, I promise. 5. The world is never just black and white, right or wrong, one way or another. Try and see things from as many points of view as possible. 6.  "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter, don't mind." - Dr. Seuss 7. Have empathy. 8. Gossip, problems of the past, events you cannot control, negative thoughts and negative people; time spent on these is time poorly wasted. 9. When you're jealous or find yourself filled with hatred for someone/something, stop. The only person its hurting is you. 10. Although the newest, most expensive material items may make you fe

My heart is light. My soul is bright. And who can EVER says this? Life kicks me down. When I'm on the ground, It's nothing I will ever miss. Anger inside, born with too much pride, but I know my Lord exists. Therefore I'm content. Therefore I relent. soothed by Lord's blissful kiss.

You try to avoid it when you are young, but the older you get you see it's inevitable I see her in my smile, the way I fold my right hand and place it on my knee while driving, she's in my writing, my laughter, she's molded my hips, given my cheeks color, every horror movie reminds me of her (oh, not for the reasons you are thinking!) my sensitivity was because of her, my humor is a result of her. You try to avoid it when you are young, but the older you get, you see it's not so bad.

I don't know where, but I need to go. disappear if only for a moment go where only God can find me close my eyes and drift to my paradise

Self -assurance Who Is Superman ? Who is our S a v i o r ? How can we assure others if we lack self-assurance? Those who lack it speak empty words. meaningless and pointless. The best assurance, is one self-inflicted.

Sometimes I want to box with God. He sucker punches me when I'm not looking so sometimes I want to fight eye-to-eye Sometimes I get this feeling he's sitting on a cloud filling up balloons of heart ache and sorrow and deciding which helpless soul to drop it on He ties a knot on top and lets me have it. ddddooooooowwwwwnnnn, CRASH!!! I don't think he laughs, but I wonder, "why?" Why he feels my life must have this unending, overwhelming down pour of tears. It never ceases. I want to catch the balloons that fall and throw them right back let them crash to return the favor I would not be proud, but I would feel happier I deal with the devastating effects only to put up arms for the next attack it is never one balloon, it always falls in armies one by one it is an on-going crash my body undulates into a typhoon until the stirred-up voice inside of me screams in desperation, "ENOUGH!" tears streak down my neck I am on my knees

The tapping of his shoes to a joyful melody. Top hat tilted sideways in a sense of verily. This harmless, gentle sight is also "the enemy," his arms wide open with a sense of serenity. This Prince of Lies will make one's misfortune a treasure, manipulate God's pain and turn sins into pleasure. This gentleman soars low for his wicked endeavor. His soft, calming smile makes deception look clever. He will fetch you a chair, and velvet curtains will rise Center stage, spot light, no noise, merciless,chaos dies turns snakes into doves, you're deliriously surprised It's mustard-seed effort, whistles and bells, tricks and lies Curtain call, he takes off his hat, bows and you are awed  the audience cheers, lights fade in, you stand to applaud his slick moments and kind embrace can never be flawed and there is a moment in time you think he is God One doesn't see him coming, and calls him by his name, he'll rip apart the soul, burn it in et

"They found more." That's all you have to say and I'm paralyzed. For once I want you to be safe. You have no words to reassure me. You never were one for comfort. crying helplessly. I stand on my own, feeling guilty because I'm frozen. "You'll be alright." "Everything will be okay." Will it? I hope I'm wrong and you'll be healthy, but I can't lie. Who am I fooling? Your eye sight is waning. Your skin births big brown spots. "They found more" is the phrase I never want to hear again. Those three words can never be associated with something happy. Not anymore. How can it? When the only time I have been hearing it, is when you're losing the battle, and I feel defeated.

"Here is my servant whom I have chosen, the one I love, in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations." - Matthew 12:18 Spiritual duties make my chest heavy with obligation but the expectations are invigorating  I feel pressures, but also more inclined  He delights in me He has chosen ME of all people, from any nation me Spiritual obligation sounds derogatory  mostly just intimidating, sky-scrapper high I can proclaim justice to the nations? of all people, to any nation? me? Derogatory as it may sound, I want nothing more than to be a servant Proud I am, but stupid I am not I'll serve on my knees, humbly to disappoint Him would end me of all people, of all nations. me

God, you have a plan I'm not seeing. After all, I am only a human being. Yeah but come on , is peeking "cheating"? Why is my plan only for You to know? Think about it, in what ways can I grow?  How would I become a bible pro? When it's put that way, how selfish! I mean, for this to be my only wish! Oh and this,and this, and this and this. Oh wait, hold on God, this is concerning. I see the lessons that I am self-learning. How my patience You're routinely yearning.  Even though you ask for it everyday, there's always something I have to say (which always ends up in my way). Okay God, I get it, I won't throw a fit, crossed arms, closed-mouth, and sit, and take in every little,tiny bit.

What'cha gunna do now, Jack? You're backed into a corner with limited options. No smooth sailing when the wind has died. You can't go coasting uphill. You're done for. A sure dead man. Now what Nomad? Your language traveled miles. It was common to pick up and venture off, even your mind was prone to nomadic tendencies, but even with your eyes shut, you find yourself at a dead end. cut off. with bridges burned, and you're on the wrong side.

To My Certain Someone, I don't know you and I'm already yours. Entirely. Whole-heartedly. While others take part in Earthly liveliness, I withhold. Why? Because I don't want small samples of happiness. When I want something, I go through with it entirely. When our worlds meet, I want to make sure you know I had never given up. I've waited, and I'll always wait. Even when I get discouraged, it's just a moment of weakness. You make me weak, and I will have no trouble letting you know it. I need to come clean though, World weighs me down and I spend most of my time trying to rise above it. I can hardly contain my excitement at the idea of companionship. Someone who can support me when I fall (standing alone is much harder). I want to laugh with you. I want to see the world. Let's dance, and turn our cheeks to the jests and mockery. I want to show you off. You make me so joyful. It tickles me pink that God made you just for me. World tells me that I'm miss

Is it strange for a young woman to be content with just...being? The spirit works best in silent contemplation. Settled souls do not wish to be stirred. Emotions spiraling into a downhill velocity does not aid in the act of listening. Chaos only hinders progress, and distracts me from the path. My mind is tick-tocking. Is it possible I'm missing out? No, the spirit works best when calm. Nothing should flip my heart inside out, or alter my strength in judgement. Love should always come in its purest form. Wisdom is  shared through soft whispers in the wind, and subtle tugs of the spirit.

I can be negative, but then I see someone being nice to me. I can get angry, so to blow of steam it is best to wipe the slate clean. I can be sad, but then I'm shown that's how happiness is grown. I can get bored, but what's lying ahead is better than a day in bed. A constant chore, and sometimes beguiling, in the end, I'm caught smiling.

It seems like just yesterday we were kids, I hated you and you loved it. You made me so furious. You brought out the worst in me. I remember hitting you with a wire hanger, and slamming your fingers in my bedroom door. You made me run Butterfield Stage, until I felt sick and you laughed. You told me the Spice Girls were lesbians, and sometimes pretended to be possessed, just to make me cry. I saw what I wanted to, I never stopped to see how beautiful you are, loving and thoughtful. I never noticed that you walked me to school in the mornings, and that you took care of me when Mom was at work late at night. Of course you'd pick on me, I was five, and you were only nine, but you also made me food when I was hungry, and made sure I got my homework done. You were a child, taking care of a child. I chose to always see you as my punk sister, but it wasn't until I was fifteen, that I saw you as a young woman, who could one day be someone's wife, and late

Don't ask me how I'm doing if you don't care to know. You won't break me, just pick up and take off- Stop with the lingering. Don't forget to pack your insecurities and put it in a box. Write "just like me" in sharpie. Take the coward way out and remind me why I didn't want to believe. There's so little of me to offer, but you didn't have trouble taking it. I was hesitant on opening up, but Like travelers who've wiped their feet on my generosity, Nomad, you've been blunt. This isn't my style, and this isn't your thing. I'm no one's regret. No one's mistake. Pick up and take off so I can pick up and move on. I remember now why I've never believed.

The moon sings remedies outside my window He sits on the clouds and skips stars into a lake of sky.

My Only True Friend, Help me believe in myself, because even though you have always believed in me, I have been my toughest critic. Prince of Peace, Help me understand how blind faith works because right now I can see through my blind fold,  but I'd never admit it. King of Kings, Help me trust you'll guide me to the promised land because the promise you've offered me, can't be treated like promises from others. Mighty God, Help me drown out Satan, because when I close my eyes I see him in my face, waiting to look me in the eyes and laugh. Loving Savior, Help me be vulnerable and brave, because when someone tries to come close, I push them away with a ten foot pole. Dear Father, Help me make beneficial mistakes, because I forget I'm human, and that you will always love me.

mirror image childhood memories solitude in a tub the undulation of the water when I moved first time warmth had wrapped its arms on my skin water-logged ears, body submerged the noise pollution is muffled noise-sensitive, can't breathe ,but the water helps drown it.