Facebook-less

I have decided upon a new experiment for as long as possible: Life without Facebook.

A cursory glance would indicate that this might be an easy task. It eliminates the distraction of walls, notes, friends, etc. The removal of FB provides more time for me to accomplish tasks I should be focusing upon, in place of FB. Relationships will be more intentional, as it's not quite as simple as logging on to my page any time of day or night and leaving me a message asking to hang out - you have to pursue at least a text message or phone call or (gasp!) an in person invite.

However, my social life might just suffer. Very few people remember to invite non-FB friends to events anymore. It's more of a hope-you-are-lucky-enough-to-hear-it-through-the-grapevine kind of thing. I'm okay with the fact that I might miss out on a few social events, though, because I am frequently overwhelmed by my social calendar anyway. And if it's an event I should really be at, I'm fairly certain someone will tell me in a manner other than facebook.

There are other reasons that I have opted to experiment with this, but they won't be disclosed here. I should admit that I'm not sure how long my will power is going to last, so I might be on as early as tonight. I should also give credit to my roommate Leslie Hege, who has been without Myspace and/or Facebook frequently without problems. She's my inspiration, at least in part.

I just got back to Orlando from Georgia this weekend. It was such an incredibly lovely 4 days at home. I always enjoy seeing my family and hanging out with my Georgian friends; however, this time was the most refreshing time spent out of Orlando in quite a while. Friendships here have lately been challenging and heartbreaking and work - to be expected, of course. I've struggled with being a good friend and finding good friends and loving well and being loved well. I went home to my family (who loves me fairly unconditionally) and my 2 best friends from college (who also are great at loving me despite my flaws) and several other people whom I love dearly. Being at home this week felt like sitting on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, drowsily watching an Audrey Hepburn movie after a fantastic night on the town the night before. It was comfortable and easy and required very little on my part (and I hope those who I spent time with!) 

As I spent time with these amazing friends/family of mine, I realized what was missing from some of my friendships here that have been frustrating lately. I am insecure, or else my friend is insecure, in the friendship. It's not completely understood that no matter what, we will be friends; no matter how your flaws come up or how we argue or disagree - we will be friends. There's not enough love, whether on my part or my friends (because there might be a little of both!).

I take responsibility for at least part of most of these unstable friendships and it's my goal to work as I can with God to change these insecurities on both ends. I think it involves me being more present in those friendships that need more stability and love. I think it involves the friend being willing to love me despite how flipping ugly I can be in certain situations, and vice versa.

So work with me if you will to make our friendships better and more unconditional (as much as we are able.) 

Love you guys. I want to feel as loved and refreshed in Orlando as I do in Atlanta, and I will strive to accomplish that goal! As for you people who already love me as I mentioned, thanks. Just THANKS.

Forgotten.

Now, I will leave your life. There will be days that you will have a faint recollection of who I was and what I meant to you. It will be as if you woke after a long night’s sleep during which, at some point, you woke up intoxicated from a glorious dream. But you won’t be able to recall the details or the facial expressions or the laughter - only a passing and vague lifting feeling associated with the memory and dream. That’s what it will be like when I am done with you. You will forget that you ever cared what I thought. I will be gone.

Like the rains on the blacktop during the Florida summer heat.

Like the sound of an ambulance driving farther and farther away.

Like the beauty of a cut flower, wilting as the days pass.

Like the light as the sun passes the horizon and even dusk disappears.

Like the satellite in the night sky after the sun no longer reflects on its metal.

T versus F

Sulking away,

Keeping to what's safe.

My heart is aghast at your language,

At your cowardice.

Step up, and be a man

Walk into what you deserve

Into what you're afraid of.

Be who you were ordained to be.

Stop playing it safe.

Walk into the fire and be ready to be burned.

You will realize very soon that burns heal,

But the scars will always remind you of true sacrifice and love.

It's what you've long searched for.

You've looked every minute, every day for understanding,

For logic to rule your decisions.

And in the face of feelings, 

You are lost, confused and broken.

Your logic cries out in the throes of feeling childbirth,

And it is only then you come to grips with the fact that your logic does you 

no

good.

NO

GOOD.

Give it up.

Wander away from this bondage to which you've voluntarily secured yourself.

Stride away from the ugliness of yesterday

And into the brilliance and promise of Today.

Of Tomorrow.

It takes only one commitment: 

One single step.

I'm there,

Past the line which has drawn all your focus and attention.

Once you take the step and pass the line, 

You'll see my face quite clearly on the other side.

And you shall know what is meant by peace. love. acceptance.

Anchors Away.

Floating atop an azure and glassy sea, the vessel happily bobs to and fro.

Beautiful and powerful, it boasts sails of strength that tell of conquests from which few survived to bear witness.

Those few rarely reveal their tales anyway.

Its current location at the dock is well deserved after a perilous and heart-wrenching journey.

The ship begins to drift away from the security of the town.

The local townspeople do not notice its slow departure.

But the next morning, when the ship is barely visible upon the horizon, they wonder why it left.

The gossip in town was that the boat was not set to depart for more than a month, but the reality did not meet the tales.

The answers upon the boat were no more clear, until the anchor was discovered to have been severed.

Gone, without a telling trace.

The crew, quite saddened by their sudden and unexpected lack of stability, is downtrodden.

The skies around them have grown dark and cold - ghostly in appearance.

The color of the world has left them: only blues, grays, and blacks are found.

Even the captain himself can no longer offer words of encouragement.

He is melancholy and silent, and frequently withdrawn into his hold.

Day after day, the ship sails on, into nothingness.

The men have given up on a destination, for all their supplies were unloaded onto the dock.

The hunger and hopelessness is obvious and leaves a desolate taste in their mouths.

When you've lost your anchor, to what must you cling?

Passing driftwood does no good, nor does the ship itself.

No, the only way into the color-filled world again is to find the anchor you lost and restore it to its rightful place.

What It Takes.

Sometimes, it takes a drastic, dramatic event to make you accept and embrace a change in perception.

Sometimes, it takes only 1 word. 

Sometimes, it takes him telling you 1,000 times that you are beautiful before you believe he means his words. 

Sometimes, it takes only a kiss for you to believe it. 

Sometimes, it takes walking away from the one thing you know to learn how to fly. 

Sometimes, it takes only the help of your friends. 

Sometimes, it takes masks and faux grins to survive the gauntlet. 

Sometimes, it takes only a genuine smile and an open heart.  

Sometimes, it takes hearing a song more than once before you cherish it. 

Sometimes, it takes only one spin before your heart explodes in its presence. 

Sometimes, it takes a near death experience to take each hour seriously.

Sometimes, it takes only known pending death. 

Sometimes, it takes thinking to make the best decision. 

Sometimes, it takes only instinct.  

And sometimes, it takes love to break the walls down you've built up. 

Scratch that: it always requires love. 

Always.

Golden Words

You, there, with your golden words.

Jail them.

Incarceration is required for the crimes committed. 

They are no longer any use to me whatsoever! I cannot stand for even a moment longer to hear them dribble out of your mouth as casually as a sunny summer day. 

They have the substance of a glass bubble - fragile.

They have the falseness of playboy - actions mismatched.

They have the oiliness of a greaser - slick as can be.

spun

woven

wrapped around my mind

you've trapped me here and I hate you for it.

and now you cannot hear my own?

I'll bury your gold,

So deep that they'll search for it as the treasures of old.

But I won't leave them a map.

They will be hidden in the darkest part of the earth,

Where none will ever traverse.

And to my neighbors and friends: don't search for these nuggets.

They've not the value you think;

Turning to dust in your hand,

Blowing away in the wind.

Physically gone, but retained eternally in your memory.

"In the mourning I can see the light"

"I never thought you'd leave."

These surprising words were uttered in the depth of the night, long after the chaos of the bars had quieted. 

It was said bluntly in a moment of drunkenness - though I must allow that the intoxication may have been from the truthfulness and honesty of our conversation. Something with which you seem unfamiliar, and which can certainly bring an attachment of sorts. Confessions and laughter and tears and silence combined into a menagerie of acceptance.

We dove farther and farther into this beautiful and freeing conversation - areas we had not ever traversed before - bringing an intimacy that was peaceful and heady. The hours, as usual, passed far too quickly, but I immersed my soul in you for those few minutes I was allowed.

And as the sun rose again, the world seemed entirely different, even though it looked just as we left it the night before.

Pulling myself out of the waters of confusion, mourning and grieving over the dead body washed ashore,

I came to the frank realization that everything had changed.

But the world LOOKED the same. 

Obviously, it was only my heart that changed.

My heart and my mind - they were charmed for a night by ideas wrapped around potential...

But they were brought back screaming and kicking to the harsh sunlight of early morning.

They weren't accepting of the old surroundings any longer.

Once again, I paste on my plastic smile of normalcy and the garish makeup of faux peace, and wander back into the streets, where I surely will encounter you again, and soon.

And you will try to pretend we haven't changed,

But I will look deep into your eyes and see the difference in your soul.

It's the only bit of hope I have left.

CHASING your ghost, yet again...

Where did you go? I turned around for just a second and, now, you are just... GONE. My eyes are stretching to see as far as they can, which isn't far enough to locate you - your body. My soul is searching near and far and anywhere it's seen you before, but it's not far enough to locate you - your spirit.

My heart drops and my eyes water and I wonder at the meaning of our separation. Was it me? Did I push you away so far that you never found the right path to bring you back? Was it you? Did you run away because your fears overcame you and your nomadic tendencies are now in control? Was it fate? We were separated because the gods never intended for us to know each other past this dot on the timeline of life?

The questions continue to come and my heart knows no answers. In its age, it's garnered wisdom and strength, but in this moment, the two goddesses have fled the body, leaving me to deal with this only in my mind with my logic.  

I'm done. I want to be done with the idea of you. But even so, you creep into my mind every now and then, passing through my eyes and my ears into the deepest parts. The blackest parts with the hidden doors that are locked, sealed, and shut so that no one could possibly ever locate them. And now you've determined to squat there, dwelling inside places you were never intended to go.

One day, I swear that I will never think of you again.

The Silence of the Rooftop.

The silence of the rooftop.

It shall never acclaim the serious and light-hearted conversations it overhead as we lay atop it. Talking of dreams and hopes and desires and wonders and questions and answers and life and then... silence.

But the silence was sometimes even more beautiful and glorious and pleasant than all the meaningful and meaningless letters organized into words and then sentences. The silence alone was worth the entire trip I made to see you. Something about the comfort level and familiarity was reassuring and knowing and... well, I can only compare it to a vague understanding of the Peace of God.

Truly.

So we watched the spotlights circle and the sounds of the chopper flying overhead. We pretended and laughed and made up stories of Bonnie and Clyde - we became them and we were the source of this chase. I loved every millisecond of it. There is something about the collision of us, the joining of us, the misled hearts and minds and creativity and wonder that we bring together that is

--UNIQUE--

And as always, the bandits Time and Change arrived so very quickly, showing us that as Bonnie and Clyde we knew nothing of thievery. They took everything we had and so much more that we didn’t understand then. Nothing was the same after that. Our laughter slowed and the space between grew and we always wonder whether it was fate or a grand mistake that they found us so quickly.

They swore to come back again should we talk about them, and I heard of a nearby incident last night that brought them back to mind.

They were right down the street.

So now, I ask you, do we pretend that they don’t exist, talking not of them and giving them all the control...

OR...

Do we grab our guns, put on our war paint, smirk at each other and attack the two thieves, catching them by surprise?

You know my choice. It’s the same every time. I am not one to shirk from the gunfire, friend, so meet me on the battlefield.

Black Widows versus Beauties.

One day, you’re gonna look at the past...

You’re going to wonder:

What the fuck did I do?

How could I possibly have been so ignorant?

You’re going to look at the girls:

Those bitches who broke your heart

Without a second thought.
Those black widows who stole your soul

Without blinking.

You’ll regret those girls, intensely. 

But even more-so:

You’re going to remember the ones you walked by;

The ones you treated as dispensable. 

Disposable.

The women who loved you for you.

The beauties who weren’t as flashy,

Who weren’t as dramatic,

Who weren’t drawn in such bold colors.

And you will feel this cut to your soul

Much, much more than the ones who hurt you.

Regret and remorse will overtake you

At the point you come to realize

The deep, deep pit you’ve locked yourself in.

It’s certain you will run from that pit,

Falling into the one next door.

Until you learn

And acknowledge your depravity.

You may change,

But the house is betting you will not.

And the house ALWAYS wins.

How do I know, you ask?

Because you look into the mirror,

Studying yourself deeply,

And both you and I see...

Me.

But at least I'm aware of my depravity.

Gone, Baby, Gone.

Some people are too nice.

Some, too mean.

Where is the middle?

Where is the understanding?

Why does the phone ring in the middle of the night?

It's ringing for you,

And it's never good news:

Come to tell you of the world,

Of the evil within.

Live another day, my love.

Hope for something better.

It will come.

But it may not be in this life.

For eternity is not yet.

Eternity feels so.... so far away.

It almost seems. Unattainable?

But - we're told it's worth it.

In our fast food society, can we hold out?

Can we wait for what's better??

Oh, LOVE.

Thank you for your strength.

Without it, I would be nothing.

Oh, GRACE.

Thank you for your beauty.

Without it, I would be lost.

Oh, WISDOM.

Thank you for your wonder.

Without it, I would be small.

Yes.

We will wait.

This world contains tiny packets of the future: good.

But we long, hope, and are destined for so much more.

WAIT.

Xerox.

Are you a photocopy of someone else?

Do you constantly watch other people and mimic?

Do you have any idea who you are, or do you let other people define you?

Our generation is one of trends.

Very few people are trendsetters;

Most are followers.

And not everyone can be first to a new idea...

But everyone IS unique.

I think that many of us tend to forget that to look different is to be beautiful.

To know who you are,

To love who you are,

To be confident in who you are,

Especially in the face of conflict or adversity?

That is...

Life.

Defining.

Understanding.

That. is. Freedom.

Toss off those chains,

Because a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy

Tends to be too blurry.

Or look like Bill Murray.

(FYI: That was a completely unintentional rhyme. But it works.)

What dolphins teach us about love...

One recent evening, after seeing OneRepublic in concert, I had an interesting conversation with my girl friends. Somehow, we were on the topic of their experiences in swimming with dolphins.

I can't personally relate to this, as I've never done it. Nonetheless, some eyebrow-raising judgments arose from these stories. Well, their eyebrows rose - it made perfect sense to me.

Leslie swam with dolphins in the Keys. She said they were incredibly friendly and loving. The entire experience was just as she expected - as I think we all expect. You know, riding around on the back of a dolphin with our arms spread wide, our thighs held tight and a super-fake-movie smile plastered on our faces.

That type of happy.

Melissa, on the other hand, had a rougher experience in swimming with Dolphins in Tanzania. While on a business trip (I think), she decided that she wanted to experience the love of dolphins as well.

But... instead the dolphins were rough. I remember her saying something along the lines of, "I expected to be grabbing on to their fins and being whisked around while they swam. But it was more like trying to grab onto them as they swam by at lightning fast speeds. They weren't easy to catch and they weren't as friendly as they are typically portrayed."

My immediate comments were regarding romanticized love. I think this stemmed from the fact that we have had several conversations about my cynicism since Leslie moved in, specifically surrounding chick flicks. I, as a general rule, detest chick flicks because they set up such unreal expectations for women in regard to love.

Life doesn't end happily ever after. (I mean seriously, even in Enchanted - in which Disney makes fun of itself and its illogical ideas - the FREAKING MOVIE ENDS HAPPILY EVER AFTER!)

And you can argue, if you like, that it's just a story or just a movie: But I swear to you, these ideas get embedded in our minds as women. And when 'real' men don't add up, it certainly causes some type of tension.

Just a closing thought about chick flicks: I think they depress me because they give me this idea that my life sucks because it isn't like that pretty girl's life in the movie. Maybe I should know better - that this is mere fiction - but it doesn't sit that way with my soul.

So, back to the dolphins. 

I found it entertaining (and lucky for me, quite fitting for my cynicism) that the American dolphins were the fun, friendly, lovey-dovey dolphins, while the African dolphins were not. My exact words were, "American dolphins represent chick flicks and American ideas of love. The African dolphins - now that's the real world." 

Consider the parallel. You walk away from your American experience feeling in love and great about yourself. The animals are so lovely and loving and sweet and probably even gave you a kiss on the way out. Just as their way of saying, goodnight. Oh, and thanks for coming.

Melissa, in her African experience, was reminded that things are not always as they seem. In real life, people are too busy for each other (a sad truth). They rush by each other, forgetting to invest daily in their relationship. In real life, people are portrayed as one thing, but often end up being something else. To be honest, that's true for love, too. America has built up this idea of what love should look like, but to be certain - it's only infatuation. We have a severe problem with this infatuation. When things eventually settle down into the opportunity for true, unselfish love - people run. That type of love is just scary. And hard. And selfless. 

Most people don't want to invest. 

Thus, my synopsis is this: if you want a glimpse of the real world and feisty dolphins, go to Africa. If you like chick flicks and happy-go-lucky dolphins, stay in America.

(Disclaimer: if you don't know me well, I was laughing hysterically as this came to pass. I certainly, at least halfheartedly, meant part of what I was saying. But it was also in jest.)

Looking backwards through a kaleidoscope.

Abandonment.

We often turn it around, seeing things only from our own angle.

But we are the ones who abandon.

Running into our 'freedom'.

Oh, 'freedom' - it ain't so free after all!

Issues with authority.

Self sufficiency.

Independence.

We are quite brilliant.

Or so we think.

"Can anyone really know what's best for me, other than me?"

Our warped mindset is at least somewhat the result of our bizarre society.

I find it humourous that we consider God's Kingdom 'backwards.'

Rather, it surely must be the other way around!

Reverse.