// drawing //

 

decided to chill, draw and listen to music, in defiance of the huge amount of dishes i need to wash... they'll wait a little longer. today's the first day we've had to rest in weeks. we're halfway through our run of the sound of music! i edited the photo a little to show the colors better. 

// burden //

sometimes the weight of humanity
(including my own)
weighs down my little soul
until it practically sickens me.

If my finite self can be so
crushed with the futile tragedy
of the depraved rejectors of their only cure

how on earth or in the heavens above
must Christ have felt
He who knew no sin Himself
who wasn't only a reawakened dust-mote
but the All Encompassing, bound in a body

how must it have felt to have
 all the massive sin of everyone, everywhere
for the entire span of time
on His shoulders?

Perfect holy shoulders,
streaming blood.

How could they not break
under just one breath of sin?
How could he be willing to
walk beside man and his fallenness
let alone bend under it?

If we could comprehend-
Oh, for the grace to ever truly
appreciate and feel it-

we would be a different
people. Our burden would be
a different one, more profound
and yet lighter.

How can we point our noses and
play at church
when God let sin touch
Himself for our disgusting selves?

written January 11 2016
xxx I've been debating over posting this for a long time...  I don't want to sound judgmental, especially towards the end, because believe me, I'm talking to myself. Always talking to myself. Here it is, anyways. xxx

//18//

what to say... it's late at night and the hours of my birthday are slowing dying away.

being 18(or 17, probably 19, maybe any age) feels, to me, most like standing on one of those suspension bridges they have in the mountains... long, unsteady. You have to trust it, trust the Rock in which it is placed. And yet... always and yet... 

You're standing here, mist obscuring either end of the bridge and the precipice below. The feeling is less fear than frozenness. You could step forward and find yourself at the end of the bridge. Or there could be a great distance still to go. And anyways, when you do get off this hanging, swaying connection, in all likelihood you'll still have a mountain to climb.

and it's crazy scary, exhausting and sometimes you almost wish the whole bridge would just go crashing down so you wouldn't even have to think about what to do next. 

but you don't really wish that because let's be honest. being on a rickety suspension bridge in the middle of a wild mountain might be terrifying...

but it's pretty exciting too.

here's to a year chasing God and letting His plan be revealed when He decides to clear the mist. 

as far as looking back, this has been such an uneventful year for me in one sense, yet I feel I've grown so much and God has been working on me. I'm so hopeful for what could happen this year.

I mean I've already eaten a bagel, the best sandwich ever, wandered around downtown with Ryn, Mom and Dad, gone to a concert and gotten a new Macbook among other awesome gifts.  Not to mention so many wishes from people, which made me feel special :3 So far it's looking good. Too bad next week is stressful and busy. But hey-

At least I have more bagels;)

(also this is my 100th post, what should I do to celebrate?  I'm open to anything and everything for ideas, you guys are all awesome.)

and now I'm actually going to bed since I already started to once and remebered I needed to do this. ha ha. this is probably a really rambly non cohesive post.  

//aegri somnia//

via pinterest

 You know how, in nightmares, there often is one bright thing

one good, natural thing amidst a landscape of freakish, surreal horror

and how that one thing in its goodness, it's normalcy,

 only serves to make the rest more vibrantly sordid?

well,

my life, now, is a nightmare

and I think-I feel- I know-you are the one good thing.

and even though you are the one bright spot in this murkish dream,

I don't want you to have to exist in its tainted chaos.

It will be darker without you, it's true

but somehow I think that will be better.

I think knowing you are out there, in the light

will be a comfort in the dark.

I would rather you be free of it

and I, to suffer alone.

aegri somnia- a sick man's dreams

xxx tomorrow is my birthday and probably-possibly-potentially- my 100th post!! xxx

// flower by ryn d. //

it was just a flower.

not even a blooming one.

it was dried up, and it was withered.

it was discolored. perhaps once it had been

pink or white or yellow.

but now if you were to try to describe it

you'd have to say it looked something similar

to stale, cold old tea, left out in the rain.

it was just an old flower.

but it was a flower

that caught my eye.

it was standing a little above

all the others in the bouquet.

like, even though she was far too old

she was hoping, just hoping, to catch

a whift of a beautiful summer wind

in her wildest dreams

even be carried away in his arms

another meadow, another summer

another life.

but of course

it had long been trapped in a foggy vase

never ever to breath that again.

someone took that away from her.

and as i came closer to her

i realized

just how very young 

she had been.

petals

so soft and delicate 

untouched 

underneath the wrinkled skin.

i could imagine how she must have blossomed

before she was broken.

how she must have danced before

someone came along and snapped

her long, slender leg.

how she must have stood on point so tall

a little above all the others

laughing 

her graceful arms twirling to the wind's

deep, passionate song.

and, i wondered, how she felt when she realized

as she fell limp in a stronger one's hand

that her beauty

had betrayed her

if she thought to herself 

she should have hidden it, amongst the tall grass.

and if

as she gasped her last when the door closed out her world

if she tried to warn her sisters

"though the world knows us for our beauty

don't let them know your own"

"for it is all you have

and all i had"

i wonder how she felt when her agile limbs

fell weak and damp.

when someone touched every inch of her 

helpless, sweet innocence

and smelled away her sweet perfume

for his own immediate pleasure.

on a whim, without thought he'd done this

because her beauty had pleased his eye

her youth, her blooming charm.

and with that, with one touch

ended that for her forever.

dunked in cold water in a hard, glass cup

and placed in the center of a dark table

her dying beauty for all eyes to watch.

when her lover, the wind's song, was beat out of her chest

by the suffocating cloud of indoors.

then how she felt when she was spilled and forgotten

eventually noticed and tossed amongst all the others

who'd lived and died just as her.

sad, hanging heads. she stood a little taller.

the second half of the last note she ever sang

still inside her.

one petal

cracked but facing the sky

as if she was caught mid-dance.

her face

still longing to feel the wind.

her beauty blossoming in a new way

from broken pieces had formed 

knowledge

regret

wisdom

humility.

her tears had fallen for lost love

injured dance and quieted song.

her heart had angered for the selfishness

of the hand who'd took what was her's.

but now her life

spoke the words of the world.

her story

tells us the way of humanity.

and her death warns us

of how we shall choose to live.

by my sister Ryn

// painted in blue //

i've been waiting for some feels to write, but since none are coming i guess i'll write myself some feels...

via pinterest

i am painted in blue, today

shades and tints of deep and fade

hues greenish and black

i stare at nothing

i blink

i feel if i were to cry

my cheeks would become stained

with oceanic ink

and if i speak

the words would drip 

with raw, rough sapphires

so i'll stay silent

yet even in my silence

i hear the color

i am painted

soaked,

seeped 

in a melancholy of blue

//haiku #24//

// wings that shine brightest

with vivid color often

break soonest as well //

the text tag

Ava of Quiet Land has created this awesome tag, and she nominated me!!

Guidelines:
Thank the person who nominated you and give a link to their blog.
Answer the original 6 text-themed questions.
Add a typography/word related question of your own for those you tagged to answer.
Tag 6+ bloggers, and let them know.
Include these rules in your post.
(feel free to use the image above, designed by Ava)

The Q:
1. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? 
2. What are three words that you love?   
3. What are three words you hate?   
4. If you were to create a word, what would it be, and what would it describe?.
5. What is your favorite three punctuation marks?
6. What are three of your favorite fonts? 

My Answers;
1.  ugh hard. I like the letter N, and X.... I don't know, I like most all the letters!!!
2.  Metamorphosis, glisten, anticipation 
3.   Acid, vomit, mucous. 
4.   (ok, I have to do two because I actually was just thinking about them.) Finidot, n. a small dot at the end of a sentence(basically, a period. Because I hate the word period.) and tantle, v. To caress another's hair.
5.   ! ? ( 
6.   Philosopher, Admiration Pains, and Times New Roman 
Ava's Q to the nominees: Do you prefer writing on paper or typing? I like both, actually. Typing is faster, but there's something about pen to paper. I really can't say I definitively prefer either.

My question to my nominees- Do you prefer serif or sans-serif?

I tag Shandi, Olivia, Lauren, Kimberly, Kelsey, and YOU!!

I just remember Olivia also tagged me for the happy tag, so I'll be doing that soon!!