Lord why are we so Blinded by Sight?

i sometimes wish i couldn’t see so my eyes would be opened…

We can’t prevent what we cant predict

so would you Rewind and lose what you Find?

Would you go Back to gain what you Lack?

First There are Clouds, then theres the storm

How can i be in the Safest place I ever found only to hear more thunder? The thunder will only get louder till that’s all that is heard. The sounds kills me and messes with my own uneven beat. I cannot get rid of the Thunder; I cant live with my biggest fear. It will destroy me and laugh with drums of triumph…

Its time to run and be the lightning.

“Hey! remember me? that fool you knew?” i walk right by, look back, ask “who?”

Falling happens alot

i trip, i fall i get back up

im pushed i fall i get back up

im tripped i fall, i get back up.

i fall into dreams

or in this case tea

through rain, through a storm of books

i fall,

i’m caught.

Christs Compass and Unchanging Sands

Being stuck in the past is something that happens a lot to me. I remember things as if they just happened. And often relive memories in dreams.

I will always forgive and try to forget but it’s never that easy to erase my mind. It just sticks in your head, eating at you. Replaying scenes from your past again, and again, you always imagine an alternative- changing the ending…

What’s’ interesting about this semi depressing little tail is; it’s made me who I am. Each dusty road, dark path and old broken down form of transportation, Each barrier I’ve climbed over, every time I’ve tripped and fallen…when I was pushed. When I starved when I was to weak to travel anymore. When I found a stream, when I almost drowned… the adventures of my life have made me who I am.

I recently thought about “what would I do if I went back” could I have changed things? How far back would I go? Would it make a difference?

Would I be happy?

It pains me to say this. But NO. I wouldn’t go back at all…

Christ is holding the Map in my amazing race, he provides the streams, which I am stupid enough to fall into, and he provides the paths, which I am silly enough to trip on…

Where I am, who I’ve met, what I’ve done- all dependant on the slimmest stran of coincidence, yet its a Delicately woven plan

One slight change and this wouldn’t have even been written..

Is this not Balance?

Is this not Direction?

We don’t control our path; if we did…we would always be lost

Screw you GPS…

Listen Lonley

Goodbye to the noise, hello to a mind so loud, up the stairs to the left is were I am found…

Dear house, please don’t be sad, why do you cry?

They’ll be back soon, but for now it’s just you and I….

Walls keep me safe, foundation keep me strong

I pray to God, this doesn’t last for long…

Trapped to Escape My Mindless Mind

I wonder if you know what I cannot see.

What I cannot see is what I cannot stop

What I cannot stop will soon stop me

When I’m stopped and my heart fought

When it did I lost all thought

The empty thoughts don’t meander my mind blindly

Its full of freakish Clutter

And in this clutter I can see

Barely above the lost hopes and dreams

To know the reason Is no other then me.

To know that it is no more of me

To know I cannot stay any longer

Or leaving behind will be much harder

I fall asleep every minute

Waiting to wake from this nightmare

But till I do I should get some sleep.

The feelings are back, I should go away

Or make them leave so I can stay

I’ll say goodnight

I mean goodbye

Back to the cage, of my own mind.

Reflecting What "Should Be"

"In the old age black was not counted fair,

Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name.

But now is black beauty’s successive heir,

And beauty slandered with a bastard shame.

For since each hand hath put on nature’s pow'r,

Fairing the foul with art’s false borrowed face,

Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bow'r,

But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.

Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black,

Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem

At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,

Sland'ring creation with a false esteem.

  Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,

  That every tongue says beauty should look so."

- william Shakespeare

sonnet 127...

Treasured

As I'm going through all these days my art journal and my necklace came in the "picture".
some find it odd that i were a Dagger around my neck, i received it about a year ago and its been a sign of courage to me since.
my art journal i started last summer, after i was inspired through people with great wisdom to do so. When Words just are not helping and my mind can't even imagine anything but a picture or colors it gets recorded...a Scrap book if you will.
laying beneath it is parchment paper with Caligraphy writing

You will keep in perfect peace
those whose minds are steadfast,
because they trust in you. Isaiah 26:3.


I kinda wish i could go inside this journal and never come out at times....