when did this friggen happen? i could psycho-babble your face off but i won't. (much). i just like really deep measures of thought (if you consider this stuff deep. if you've got it figured out, that's cool, effing share the load). questions pop into my mind and then i ponder them an go... oh f*** that's legitimate!!! like... the 5 'w's. in what order, if associating them with 'am i' makes the most correct statement for trying to figure out life? let's see.
who am i?
what am i?
where am i?
why am i?
how am i?
i think most people would just immediately jump to existential thought methods in order to place them, and i thought no different. at FIRST. (hell yeah floaty mind mood! just you wait)
why am i? - would come first wouldn't it? IF you were thinking that way. (screw this analysis THIS way, i like... another way better.) so. the most important for someone who couldn't grasp their own existence.
what am i? - would most likely come from a rock who somehow became self aware. or a schizophrenic. or someone unable to understand their purpose whilst wishfully thinking about being a fish.
how am i? - well that's the million dollar question isn't it. intelligent design, darwinism... we'll never know so why is it such a big issue? insecure people will find this one most titillating.
who am i? - the common young adult, tadpole, or schizophrenic. alluring to people with low self esteem and people obsessed with celebrities. emphasis on the schizo.
why am i? - my favorite. because (not at all saying i have a higher perspective or understanding) if you ignore or understand all the others, this one actually gives a driving purpose towards this thing we call life.
anywho that's the stuff on my brain as of these last few hours. i could add a ton more. about truth being truth because truth exists, anything about love or the search for true love and compatibility, how God could/can/does answer the 5 'w's with His name alone (just flip it around, it's crazy (I Am how... I Am why...)), anything regarding poop or why i have been pooping triple lately, the glorious cold weather, why Jesus is coming very very friggen soon, and finally (but not limited to) why i think about certain things or people way more often when i'm near God than when i'm distracted and distant... i kinda wish everyone was truly naked.
Sep 30, 2009
Sep 26, 2009
yesterday i had no question mark.
is love fiction? i strongly believe not, but i guess some people must, otherwise this world would be a better place wouldn't it? think some might want to categorize love and put it in several different locations and levels of strength, and i do think that is ok because sometimes in order to understand you MUST organize and sometimes even generalize (as long as the main focus or purpose isn't brought down by a stereotype or negative connotation that is implicated under an impassioned circumstance) to gain a better perspective on the deal as a whole, but in the end hopefully realize that love simply IS, and it just manifests itself in different ways. a love of a location is far different than the love of a person, but at the same time i could describe my love for matamata as if it were a person that i passionately longed for, ached for every time i saw the slightest hint of it's existence in my memory or surroundings, BUT AT THE SAME TIME i can't hold or nuzzle or speak words of affection to it like i could a person, though it invokes the same internal feelings. but maybe it's not the place, just the experiences that i long for, the way God touched my life in such a way that i'm never going to be the same again, yet i still allow myself to slip back into the sludge of ignorance and forget what he has done for me and through me... and i can't have that happen. i don't remember if i wrote it in my travel blog, but i do remember talking about tara from hamilton. i had prayed for her one night because her foot was hurting her to the point of not bein able to walk, an the next time we saw her about 4 weeks later i found her an prayed for her again. THEN a few weeks later still another group found her and she was looking for me because her foot had been healed. i can't believe i'd forgotten the joy i felt when arby told me and how amazing it was to have been a part of somebody's miracle, no matter how little. i can't forget that ever. as well as our lovely friends peter and chantelle from raglan, who we had prayed that they would get a baby in their lives, because we felt like they had been trying unsuccessfully for awhile now. 8 weeks later we found out she was pregnant.. i can't ever say that God didn't do anything for me. ever. all this talk of love makes me realize that no matter how hard i try to love something, someone, or even God, there's no way i'll ever match up to how much He loves me. that's all He IS. that's why He's all that matters. all that other stuff is just ways that He lets us know.
Sep 23, 2009
the holy fire in my dirty eyes
this is the writing that inspired me THE most during NZ. it's from a book called red moon rising, from pete greig, who started the 24-7 prayer movement.
So this guy comes up to me and says: “what’s the vision? What’s the big idea?”
I open my mouth and words come out like this:
The vision?
The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army.
And they are FREE from materialism.
They laugh at 9-5 little prisons.
They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.
They wouldn’t even notice.
They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won.
They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations.
They need no passport.
People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying.
What is the vision?
The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes.
It makes children laugh and adults angry.
It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars.
It scorns the good and strains for the best.
It is dangerously pure.
Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.
It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.
This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day its soldiers choose to lose,
that they might one day win
the great ‘Well done’ of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don’t need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: “COME ON!”
And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing…
This is the sound of the underground
And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts “for me to live is Christ and to die is gain”.
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes.
Winners. Martyrs.
Who can stop them?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed?
Can fear scare them or death kill them?
And the generation prays
like a dying man
with groans beyond talking,
with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and
with great barrow loads of laughter!
Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.
Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mould them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive
Inside.
On the outside? They hardly care.
They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,
they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)
Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centres.
Don’t you hear them coming?
Herald the weirdo’s! Summon the losers and the freaks.
Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes.
They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension.
Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.
And this vision will be.
It will come to pass;
it will come easily;
it will come soon.
How do I know?
Because this is the longing of creation itself,
the groaning of the Spirit,
the very dream of God.
My tomorrow is his today.
My distant hope is his 3D.
And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great ‘Amen!’ from countless angels, from heroes of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
Guaranteed.
(shivers)
So this guy comes up to me and says: “what’s the vision? What’s the big idea?”
I open my mouth and words come out like this:
The vision?
The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army.
And they are FREE from materialism.
They laugh at 9-5 little prisons.
They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.
They wouldn’t even notice.
They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won.
They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations.
They need no passport.
People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying.
What is the vision?
The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes.
It makes children laugh and adults angry.
It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars.
It scorns the good and strains for the best.
It is dangerously pure.
Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.
It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.
This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day its soldiers choose to lose,
that they might one day win
the great ‘Well done’ of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don’t need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: “COME ON!”
And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing…
This is the sound of the underground
And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts “for me to live is Christ and to die is gain”.
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes.
Winners. Martyrs.
Who can stop them?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed?
Can fear scare them or death kill them?
And the generation prays
like a dying man
with groans beyond talking,
with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and
with great barrow loads of laughter!
Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.
Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mould them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive
Inside.
On the outside? They hardly care.
They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,
they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)
Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centres.
Don’t you hear them coming?
Herald the weirdo’s! Summon the losers and the freaks.
Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes.
They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension.
Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.
And this vision will be.
It will come to pass;
it will come easily;
it will come soon.
How do I know?
Because this is the longing of creation itself,
the groaning of the Spirit,
the very dream of God.
My tomorrow is his today.
My distant hope is his 3D.
And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great ‘Amen!’ from countless angels, from heroes of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
Guaranteed.
(shivers)
Sep 20, 2009
the only battle better than the battle of hoth is the ewok forest battle on endor.
nobody ever retires anymore. what happened to leaving with an amazing finish and quitting while you are ahead... michael jordan... brett favre... well they are the only two i really see as legit (because rappers who say they retire really never retire, they just want to be vintage when they inevitably return (and i can't say i disapprove of brett favre's second retirement return because now he plays for my vikings) but isn't that what everybody wants? to be vintage? original? rare enough to be valued? but is our value still value when it comes from the compiled resources of all that influences us into one giant (nay, NORMAL) mass of humanity that we label 'I'? of COURSE it's still value! we take whatever history we know and make it our own, cutting and pasting what we like (which really is it up to us what we like? why DO we like the things we do? or LOVE the things we love... if we came from nothing why do i like the taste of strawberries? or hugging?) and forming into our opinion based on the perspective we choose to take, in regards to what we have found as ideal having sifted through those influences. ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh i shouldn't be thinking things that cause me to stir inwardly about the things outside of my pajamas. but DANG does jay-z have a good album cover... top notch.
Sep 17, 2009
for those times when satisfaction is somehow better alone.
not that your presence wouldn't be welcome if the situation had started with you there... just if you came halfway through neither one of us would obtain the concluding feeling of completion and the contentment that followed... one would need filling in while the other would have to do just that. it's ok though... we can watch season 4 together. and we can share this beer.
also
i'm reflecting on moments that i've had with myself where i sit back and indulge in whatever happens to be on, in, with, in front of, around, upon, attracted to, or mildly near me. and upon those moments when two things that come from opposite worlds collide into one united intertwined perfection of a happening. i'll list a few to make myself completely jealous of my past self.
this one time in new zealand, when i was alone at the airport waiting for my traveling buddies to come on a flight about 4 hours from that time.. i was sitting in the terminal sewing (i think it was jeans... i was fixing them good.) and listening to music. i hadn't had time to myself in a very very long time, let alone with solid music composed by my 'on the go' skills. all the elements added up. NZ, alone, sewing, and norma jean. needles and thrice. the cranberries and thread. industrious motives fueled by renewed inspiration.. truth in rest.
sitting in jef's basement the other night, chilling before watching zack and miri, finishing a delicious beer (something amazing from BC) and getting that feeling, that rush of things that have happened that has gotten me to where i am, and being completely content and satisfied with that.
today after my dad called and made my whole world better. whatever stress i had was there because of him and now even the stress i had because of me is gone. i love my dad.
auckland - taupo - napier ... wellington - whanganui ... matamata - wangarei ... paihia - opononi - auckland .. .. christchurch - lake tekapo ... oamaru - dunedin - kaka point - owaka ... invercargil - te anau - milford sound (almost) - athol ... queenstown - lake wanaka ... fox/frans josef glacier - kokitika - greymouth - punakaiki ... motuska - cape farewell - greymouth - otira ... arthurs pass - christchurch. july 25th - august 5th 2009. 5358km
God has given me many many things to be thankful for. in return i must try constantly to bring the kingdom. always. know God and make him known.
i should call this a manifesto, but that would put me in a box of expectation. so i'll call it stuff to do. the only manifesto IN my life is the above.
-seek achievement, be successful, then ignore the reward.
-compromise almost nothing. (no settling. evah!)
-why hold stuff in. it'll only pain me to keep it there. (urine (and secrets..) but mostly urine.)
-own nothing. kill the myth of ownership.
-LEARN HOW TO SWIM GOOD
-screw tradition. respectfully...
-accident babies.
-take 'plans' as stuff do to until God needs me somewhere.
-drive scout (oh yes, she's named) til she dies.
-people > time.
-spontaneity is the happiness key that opens the adventure door.
-change the world through existence. (not arrogantly... just... justly)
-read. lead. (i thought it was cliche but... truth.)
also
i'm reflecting on moments that i've had with myself where i sit back and indulge in whatever happens to be on, in, with, in front of, around, upon, attracted to, or mildly near me. and upon those moments when two things that come from opposite worlds collide into one united intertwined perfection of a happening. i'll list a few to make myself completely jealous of my past self.
this one time in new zealand, when i was alone at the airport waiting for my traveling buddies to come on a flight about 4 hours from that time.. i was sitting in the terminal sewing (i think it was jeans... i was fixing them good.) and listening to music. i hadn't had time to myself in a very very long time, let alone with solid music composed by my 'on the go' skills. all the elements added up. NZ, alone, sewing, and norma jean. needles and thrice. the cranberries and thread. industrious motives fueled by renewed inspiration.. truth in rest.
sitting in jef's basement the other night, chilling before watching zack and miri, finishing a delicious beer (something amazing from BC) and getting that feeling, that rush of things that have happened that has gotten me to where i am, and being completely content and satisfied with that.
today after my dad called and made my whole world better. whatever stress i had was there because of him and now even the stress i had because of me is gone. i love my dad.
auckland - taupo - napier ... wellington - whanganui ... matamata - wangarei ... paihia - opononi - auckland .. .. christchurch - lake tekapo ... oamaru - dunedin - kaka point - owaka ... invercargil - te anau - milford sound (almost) - athol ... queenstown - lake wanaka ... fox/frans josef glacier - kokitika - greymouth - punakaiki ... motuska - cape farewell - greymouth - otira ... arthurs pass - christchurch. july 25th - august 5th 2009. 5358km
God has given me many many things to be thankful for. in return i must try constantly to bring the kingdom. always. know God and make him known.
i should call this a manifesto, but that would put me in a box of expectation. so i'll call it stuff to do. the only manifesto IN my life is the above.
-seek achievement, be successful, then ignore the reward.
-compromise almost nothing. (no settling. evah!)
-why hold stuff in. it'll only pain me to keep it there. (urine (and secrets..) but mostly urine.)
-own nothing. kill the myth of ownership.
-LEARN HOW TO SWIM GOOD
-screw tradition. respectfully...
-accident babies.
-take 'plans' as stuff do to until God needs me somewhere.
-drive scout (oh yes, she's named) til she dies.
-people > time.
-spontaneity is the happiness key that opens the adventure door.
-change the world through existence. (not arrogantly... just... justly)
-read. lead. (i thought it was cliche but... truth.)
Sep 15, 2009
runny noise
i mean we COULD say nose, but why bother. it's all noise when the nostrils shout and spit. sickness is disgustingly lovely to describe. but in other happier news, life is happy. school is amost full blown, (still no job and therefore extremely extremely tight on money (as well as no extra roommate so still super super tight on money)) and autumn is upon me like a warm blanket in a cold breeze. whoa opposite metaphor... i've also busted out the old prisma colour pencil crayons due to an exciting talk with george from strange world tattoo. just... drawing... for the rest of my life if i'm gonna become a tattoo artist. so drawing i shall do. whilst watching 4 hours straight of the big bang theory. (thank you alexandra for mentioning it and thank you sean for having it. (i don't normally laugh aloud by myself in my quiet basement. but it happened a lot. only one disc left on season one... (i would watch the rest of if but working out with jef has started early mornings, and since we only did 3 exercises before nausea hit and we gave up. strong willed men we are! (with sore upper bodies. (curse you muscle NON memory... you are not like an elephant. more like a lemming. or a fish. lemmings could have great memory as far as i know. therefore knowing a fish has a sparse memory, it would be more accurate to align my failure to keep in shape with accusing my muscles of having a fish-like memory. (NOT lemmings. they are just less than smart. followers. rodent sheep. with no shepherd but the butt in front of it. (but the butt HA))))))) (i counted those parenthesis to be perfectly accurate. in case you were wondering. because if i didn't write this i would've counted anyways and even if there was a mistake i probably wouldn't of said anything because my observational nature isn't a critical one... only because OCD tendencies aren't touchy areas of impassioned responses..) so later in life when i have my degree in my hand and shadowing whatever fellow has decided to let me apprentice under him, i'll be living the dream. no money and doing what i love, letting God take care of my needs and loving living in community. (lifts drink (whatever that may be (due to sickness it happens to be (well happened to be, i have no drink in my hand) 2 litres of orange juice inside of me))) to babies!!
Sep 11, 2009
you know i probably asked for this
flip. i need to write this down because i just woke UP and there is no way i'm going back to sleep. i was in a church (apparently it was my church cuz my dad was speaking and i knew most everyone (but it wasn't my church y'know? more like a smaller ... gregs church.) so i was standing there when sam hoffman comes and tells me to greet people... i agree and are willing to do so because it's sam hoffman and this dude is the best. i start to organize the program an such an then black out. come back sitting in one of the pews, with two middle aged grey haired woman in front of me, one with a dog (we chat for a bit whilst worship is happening, about the pig she is going to buy. i think that's stupid but i don't tell her) anyways i end up with one of the kids in my lap and sitting next to eric an david and a few people from grace. worship is still happening and it's chill an good... i black out again and everyone starts freaking out because now the kid is gone and i can't explain it.. well i start freaking out because he was all cuddled up in my lap and now he's vanished and i don't remember him leaving. for some reason david goes 'oh!' and goes to a set of tables leaned up against the wall and the kid is inexplicably behind them.. apparently the service was over so i was going to find my dad but i couldn't so i sat down. blacked out again and sat up again with three middle aged grey haired woman around me, staring intently at me. 2 of them were the ones in front of me earlier and this time there is no dog. the one i haven't met yet looks crazy deep into my eyes, and tells me they think i have an unclean spirit inside of me that i need to deal with. i agreed and started praying and then it got intense (which leads me to believe i was manifesting). i got this really really cool feeling like.. i have to just call it power because that's what it felt like, and then while i was feeling that it feels like a spiritual lasso was tossed around me and was binding me from doing any praising. i tried to shout but i couldn't, i felt like i was instantly standing up as tall as i could like i was being stretched while trying really hard to shout. i just kept trying to say Jesus name and i got it out every once in awhile but it was like i was sick and had no voice (but it also felt like... flip you know. that stifling feeling when the enemy doesn't wanna get thrown out). eventually it broke and i felt free to shout and i ran down the halls shouting happily .. but cripes it felt like i was on DTS again.. people bein able to see what's inside.. the whole thing was just extremely vivid and i woke up completely awake aaaaaaaaaaaand wanting light to be all around me. so i got up. and decided to write this down in case it happens again. i feel cleansed and paranoid.
Sep 10, 2009
recently i've been pondering the value of 'golden' anything
why wait? because your patience needs to be forged in the fires of anticipation (did you know i had to use a thesaurus to figure out anticipation instead of waiting? take that pride! i'll burn you. punk ass pride.)!
tonight i have (yes me personally) discovered my very own (yes mine personally) recipe for the cure of a downer day. first, this can all be avoided by waking up at a sensible hour, no later than 9:15am. nothing exciting happens before then anyways so even if you take it up to the limit you aren't missing anything special. nothing spontaneous at least. flip no it isn't EVEN fair of me to put the daily hours upon my own generalization (yes mine personally) that the early hours are less eventful. (also, let it be known that the best natural camouflage for a golden raspberry happens to be yogurt and oatmeal. they hide and they wait and then all of the sudden BAM burst of partial raspberry flavour. because they are a genetic bastardization (as far as my natural observation tells me..) that can't (in my frivolous opinion (yes mine personally)) even compare to the real deal they get labeled as partial.) BEGIN!
- after realizing how lazy noon really is, sit around and wallow in the laziness until enough conviction comes upon you to get out and do something with your life. use that glorified rage to exact a plan upon a resume to hand it in but expect no phone call because deep down you don't want to work there and you won't even go to the interview even if they call.
- get enlightened by previous passions and gather up the fallen ideas from the tree of light bulbs.
- set about your journey whilst enjoying music. loudly if possible, for better results. pursue the road in front of you for about 20-30 minutes.
- enjoy a delightful walk in kensington while still enjoying the music in your ears. kick the light bulb tree a few more times to see what falls down, gather the good throw out the crap.
- talk to nice barista at the house and inquire about positions and settle to download the application later. mentally note how friggen sweet it would be to work there and put it on a higher priority on your list of possible places to get rent money.
- cut a chunk of your thumb off on the door on the way out so you bleed for 1 1/2 hours.
- walk in the idea of a general direction and end up underneath a starbucks gathering paper towel saturate with blood. walk through the store chuckling inwardly at the thought that you might actually be free of this corporation once and for all.
- decide halfway to imaginary destination that the car is a better destination and backtrack.
- find 16th avenue trafficless and because it is such a shock drive right by the stronghold without even knowing it. hopefully you are listening to death cab for cutie so you don't feel like an idiot, but if you do, GOOD. burn the pride at 180 degrees humility.
- make a fool of yourself by not knowing what you want while knowing exactly what you want but not being able to articulate that you're fully qualified to belay and not kill people. inquire about desk job out of shame and leave far more excited about the potential of working at the stronghold than you thought.
- find out 20s worship has not yet begun at its previous capacity and follow the road back to the house you used to live in.
- catch up pleasantly, get filled in about touchy subjects that need dealing with, and gather the garbage you left there 2 years ago and finally successfully move out.
- meet a baby (it helps if the babie was premature and is very little. 5 lbs little.) make sure to get further filled in on touchy subjects and vow to fix them. whatever the cost... (financially it will be no burden to you.)
- forget how you got home, and drink a beer.
- enjoy it so much you almost open another one, but then realize you've had no food and should probably eat SOMETHING so you don't get tipsy off two beers. even though it would help to burn the pride, you probably have to drive again soon.
- decide that cereal is the best (and easiest THEREFORE best) option and indulge. feel healthy because it's mini-wheats. realize you haven't seen sean in 3 days. wonder where he is but don't get worried.
- blindly consume while commenting on it in a twitter-like fashion via facebook status. think yourself clever and suck back the cereal milk. find out even more awesome things about the house and desire the job to the point of prayer. do all this while talking to more than two but less than six people on facebook chat.
- shower. randomly.
- drive off into the night without explanation to house mate and phone new zealand from a payphone outside a 7-11 that you didn't buy the calling card from. spend 35 cents realizing you need to spend 35 cents to call your calling card. talk to an unknown dts student and inquire the whereabouts of stephanie whittle. hang up as intructed and call back 2 minutes later realizing you should have just waited instead of spend 35 more cents. speak with 'natalie' on the whereabouts of stephanie whittle and coax her into going to find her while you wait. like a drug dealer. talk to stephanie whittle for a wonderful ten minutes, then agree to call back in half hour. mentally note 35 more cents will need to be acquired.
- move the party to mac's and sit outside. like a drug dealer. but then get thirsty and buy a tropicana no pulp orange juice (pulp is for people who would let fish swim in their mouth, you decide). check the label and get surprised that the only ingredient is really 100% squeezed orange juice. question it, but accept it as the ultimate brand of orange juice aside from what you could make with your bear hands. acquire 35 cents in the process.
- call new zealand again and talk to kristen famularo for 8 minutes, jacob ithy for 11 minutes, jacob fisher for 4-6 minutes, anna-rose johnson for 3 minutes, then stephanie whittle again for another 5 minutes. then drive home. like a drug dealer.
- make yogurt and oatmeal WITH golden raspberry and ponder on them to the point of writing a long ass blog.
and there you will have it! if you want. it worked for me (yes me personally) and i'm pretty jazz handed about it. it also helps to have after thoughts about former thoughts you had on your own writing, like using two words together that aren't a contradiction but are 'profound' in a different way like you actually understand what they are and will write them down with the front that you DO know what it all actually means and that you have an enlightened perspective and really are 'the shit' even though that title has a curious confusion about it. masked fragility.. ooo shivers... conceptually linear... MUFASA!!!!!!!!
tonight i have (yes me personally) discovered my very own (yes mine personally) recipe for the cure of a downer day. first, this can all be avoided by waking up at a sensible hour, no later than 9:15am. nothing exciting happens before then anyways so even if you take it up to the limit you aren't missing anything special. nothing spontaneous at least. flip no it isn't EVEN fair of me to put the daily hours upon my own generalization (yes mine personally) that the early hours are less eventful. (also, let it be known that the best natural camouflage for a golden raspberry happens to be yogurt and oatmeal. they hide and they wait and then all of the sudden BAM burst of partial raspberry flavour. because they are a genetic bastardization (as far as my natural observation tells me..) that can't (in my frivolous opinion (yes mine personally)) even compare to the real deal they get labeled as partial.) BEGIN!
- after realizing how lazy noon really is, sit around and wallow in the laziness until enough conviction comes upon you to get out and do something with your life. use that glorified rage to exact a plan upon a resume to hand it in but expect no phone call because deep down you don't want to work there and you won't even go to the interview even if they call.
- get enlightened by previous passions and gather up the fallen ideas from the tree of light bulbs.
- set about your journey whilst enjoying music. loudly if possible, for better results. pursue the road in front of you for about 20-30 minutes.
- enjoy a delightful walk in kensington while still enjoying the music in your ears. kick the light bulb tree a few more times to see what falls down, gather the good throw out the crap.
- talk to nice barista at the house and inquire about positions and settle to download the application later. mentally note how friggen sweet it would be to work there and put it on a higher priority on your list of possible places to get rent money.
- cut a chunk of your thumb off on the door on the way out so you bleed for 1 1/2 hours.
- walk in the idea of a general direction and end up underneath a starbucks gathering paper towel saturate with blood. walk through the store chuckling inwardly at the thought that you might actually be free of this corporation once and for all.
- decide halfway to imaginary destination that the car is a better destination and backtrack.
- find 16th avenue trafficless and because it is such a shock drive right by the stronghold without even knowing it. hopefully you are listening to death cab for cutie so you don't feel like an idiot, but if you do, GOOD. burn the pride at 180 degrees humility.
- make a fool of yourself by not knowing what you want while knowing exactly what you want but not being able to articulate that you're fully qualified to belay and not kill people. inquire about desk job out of shame and leave far more excited about the potential of working at the stronghold than you thought.
- find out 20s worship has not yet begun at its previous capacity and follow the road back to the house you used to live in.
- catch up pleasantly, get filled in about touchy subjects that need dealing with, and gather the garbage you left there 2 years ago and finally successfully move out.
- meet a baby (it helps if the babie was premature and is very little. 5 lbs little.) make sure to get further filled in on touchy subjects and vow to fix them. whatever the cost... (financially it will be no burden to you.)
- forget how you got home, and drink a beer.
- enjoy it so much you almost open another one, but then realize you've had no food and should probably eat SOMETHING so you don't get tipsy off two beers. even though it would help to burn the pride, you probably have to drive again soon.
- decide that cereal is the best (and easiest THEREFORE best) option and indulge. feel healthy because it's mini-wheats. realize you haven't seen sean in 3 days. wonder where he is but don't get worried.
- blindly consume while commenting on it in a twitter-like fashion via facebook status. think yourself clever and suck back the cereal milk. find out even more awesome things about the house and desire the job to the point of prayer. do all this while talking to more than two but less than six people on facebook chat.
- shower. randomly.
- drive off into the night without explanation to house mate and phone new zealand from a payphone outside a 7-11 that you didn't buy the calling card from. spend 35 cents realizing you need to spend 35 cents to call your calling card. talk to an unknown dts student and inquire the whereabouts of stephanie whittle. hang up as intructed and call back 2 minutes later realizing you should have just waited instead of spend 35 more cents. speak with 'natalie' on the whereabouts of stephanie whittle and coax her into going to find her while you wait. like a drug dealer. talk to stephanie whittle for a wonderful ten minutes, then agree to call back in half hour. mentally note 35 more cents will need to be acquired.
- move the party to mac's and sit outside. like a drug dealer. but then get thirsty and buy a tropicana no pulp orange juice (pulp is for people who would let fish swim in their mouth, you decide). check the label and get surprised that the only ingredient is really 100% squeezed orange juice. question it, but accept it as the ultimate brand of orange juice aside from what you could make with your bear hands. acquire 35 cents in the process.
- call new zealand again and talk to kristen famularo for 8 minutes, jacob ithy for 11 minutes, jacob fisher for 4-6 minutes, anna-rose johnson for 3 minutes, then stephanie whittle again for another 5 minutes. then drive home. like a drug dealer.
- make yogurt and oatmeal WITH golden raspberry and ponder on them to the point of writing a long ass blog.
and there you will have it! if you want. it worked for me (yes me personally) and i'm pretty jazz handed about it. it also helps to have after thoughts about former thoughts you had on your own writing, like using two words together that aren't a contradiction but are 'profound' in a different way like you actually understand what they are and will write them down with the front that you DO know what it all actually means and that you have an enlightened perspective and really are 'the shit' even though that title has a curious confusion about it. masked fragility.. ooo shivers... conceptually linear... MUFASA!!!!!!!!
Sep 9, 2009
when did stealing become so easy?
is gratitude only genuine if it is punctual? i want to say no but that's because i'm always on the opposite end of the desired punctuality... when i think about it though... the most immediate responses are usually the most heart felt and authentic.
how many times have i failed to make someone feel appreciated then because of my failure to express thankfulness in a timely manner? the desire to be acknowledged seems to lose it's edge when it takes too long to be fulfilled.. surely it isn't a race to run but surely it should have the effort inside of it to show that it is ready to.. i agree with myself when i say 3:00am is a dangerous time to be thinking perspectives.
why has this gift then been so easily forsaken? with an eternity to be immediate sometimes the effort is hard to summon. it lies deep within but only surfaces when it is convenient. i don't deserve grace but i'll receive it anyways.
thank you for letting me thank you.
how many times have i failed to make someone feel appreciated then because of my failure to express thankfulness in a timely manner? the desire to be acknowledged seems to lose it's edge when it takes too long to be fulfilled.. surely it isn't a race to run but surely it should have the effort inside of it to show that it is ready to.. i agree with myself when i say 3:00am is a dangerous time to be thinking perspectives.
why has this gift then been so easily forsaken? with an eternity to be immediate sometimes the effort is hard to summon. it lies deep within but only surfaces when it is convenient. i don't deserve grace but i'll receive it anyways.
thank you for letting me thank you.
Sep 3, 2009
there is a goose hatching itself. on my plate.
here are the things i like and dislike about coming back into a normal semi-stable living condition with all the comforts of before ready and at hand.
+ untethered loud music. and the freedom to let it loose in my basement living environment...
- a busted tape player adapter... no ipod music whilst driving. yet...
+ house mates.
- rent.
+ the freedom of art school!
- the constrictions of schedule...
+ dry towels that smell good. and new shampoo.
- phantom text messages. i forgot with love and now i remember with frustrated hatred.
+ actual text messages. instant gratification? yes please.
- swooping right back into old habits like change didn't happen.
+ conviction... thrust into passion
- anything financial that must be thought about.
+ perogies.
- buying doubles of soy sauce and sweet chili sauce. who knew?
+ fried f***ing rice.
- an excess of alone time.
+ room decoration and living space set up.
- the heat. it's so damn hot.
+ the night, because it kills the heat with it's glorious coolness.
- the amazing amount of cute girls everywhere.
+ the amazing amount of cute girls everywhere.
- walking into the bathroom at the same time with a stranger, starting to urinate (at the same time) with that stranger, then AT THE SAME TIME zipping up and starting to wash your hands feeling like some sort of conversational exchange should have taken place at some point, as it is likely you've found a pee buddy.
+ my lovely cushion bed on the cold concrete floor. it's so hammock-like.
- the unease of free time during the sunlight hours.
+ escaping concern with friendly night time activities.
- the vastness of this city. and the lack of near ocean. sigh...
+ mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmountains....
++ waiting for a good name to happen upon the new car.
+++ future plans.
+ untethered loud music. and the freedom to let it loose in my basement living environment...
- a busted tape player adapter... no ipod music whilst driving. yet...
+ house mates.
- rent.
+ the freedom of art school!
- the constrictions of schedule...
+ dry towels that smell good. and new shampoo.
- phantom text messages. i forgot with love and now i remember with frustrated hatred.
+ actual text messages. instant gratification? yes please.
- swooping right back into old habits like change didn't happen.
+ conviction... thrust into passion
- anything financial that must be thought about.
+ perogies.
- buying doubles of soy sauce and sweet chili sauce. who knew?
+ fried f***ing rice.
- an excess of alone time.
+ room decoration and living space set up.
- the heat. it's so damn hot.
+ the night, because it kills the heat with it's glorious coolness.
- the amazing amount of cute girls everywhere.
+ the amazing amount of cute girls everywhere.
- walking into the bathroom at the same time with a stranger, starting to urinate (at the same time) with that stranger, then AT THE SAME TIME zipping up and starting to wash your hands feeling like some sort of conversational exchange should have taken place at some point, as it is likely you've found a pee buddy.
+ my lovely cushion bed on the cold concrete floor. it's so hammock-like.
- the unease of free time during the sunlight hours.
+ escaping concern with friendly night time activities.
- the vastness of this city. and the lack of near ocean. sigh...
+ mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmountains....
++ waiting for a good name to happen upon the new car.
+++ future plans.
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