Sunday, October 17, 2010
Stone and a Hard Place
You know that terrible moment in mental/emotional/physical/psychological development when you're stuck between Needs, Wants, Values, Traditions, Growing Independence, and Passions? Yeah, I just hit it going 96 mph on cruse control.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
New Pet Peeve
When Mormons say things at funerals like,
I knew...
I loved...
They were...
Hey! Where is your faith?! They still exist. They are somewhere else, but still living, if not where we can see them. You STILL know and love them, I should hope, and they are the same person as when in this mortal life. They aren't lost or gone... just visibly absent. I mean, really!
I knew...
I loved...
They were...
Hey! Where is your faith?! They still exist. They are somewhere else, but still living, if not where we can see them. You STILL know and love them, I should hope, and they are the same person as when in this mortal life. They aren't lost or gone... just visibly absent. I mean, really!
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
With Answers I Don't Like
You know, I'm finally realizing why my sister hates Drama People so much.
This is a repeat of one of my last questions:
WHY DO WE DO THIS!?
We tear each other down, bite off heads, talk over, trod under our feet, and then what?
We ignore.
Why hurt people, why make them feel small? Is it to feel better about ourselves? But we don't, that's just it. Never by cruel words can we improve ourselves.
If you can't tell, I'm in one of my rare angry moods. Today I was hurt, and no one even knew it. Even some one who considers herself one of my best friends ignored me, assuming I was in one of my bubbly moods as usual, and talked about her small universe. If anyone had simply looked at my face or really listened to my voice, they would have known. I'm feeling kicked to the curb. I feel shrunk. I feel clumsy and immature and stupid around my friends.
No, I'm not angry. I'm sad. I've been wounded and forgotten. I feel like I've been transported back to the days when my sisters would all walk in an impenetrable line in front of me, whispering and laughing and berating anything I tried to put into the conversation. I feel nine years old again and every time I try to put in my opinion, it's immediately shot down. I feel stupid, and did I mention small?
I also feel like I can't make a difference. I've been trying, honest, so why do I still stand alone? I talk in a crowded room and no one turns their head. I have an idea and no one listens. People tune me out; I'm totally aware of this and have evidence. Sometimes I just wish people would do for me what I so often do for them. No thank you needed, but I would like a return of love, capiche?
This is a repeat of one of my last questions:
WHY DO WE DO THIS!?
We tear each other down, bite off heads, talk over, trod under our feet, and then what?
We ignore.
Why hurt people, why make them feel small? Is it to feel better about ourselves? But we don't, that's just it. Never by cruel words can we improve ourselves.
If you can't tell, I'm in one of my rare angry moods. Today I was hurt, and no one even knew it. Even some one who considers herself one of my best friends ignored me, assuming I was in one of my bubbly moods as usual, and talked about her small universe. If anyone had simply looked at my face or really listened to my voice, they would have known. I'm feeling kicked to the curb. I feel shrunk. I feel clumsy and immature and stupid around my friends.
No, I'm not angry. I'm sad. I've been wounded and forgotten. I feel like I've been transported back to the days when my sisters would all walk in an impenetrable line in front of me, whispering and laughing and berating anything I tried to put into the conversation. I feel nine years old again and every time I try to put in my opinion, it's immediately shot down. I feel stupid, and did I mention small?
I also feel like I can't make a difference. I've been trying, honest, so why do I still stand alone? I talk in a crowded room and no one turns their head. I have an idea and no one listens. People tune me out; I'm totally aware of this and have evidence. Sometimes I just wish people would do for me what I so often do for them. No thank you needed, but I would like a return of love, capiche?
Saturday, August 14, 2010
No Answers
Questions I asked myself on a four-hour ride home from Utah.
Am I wrong? Should I lower my standards and tolerate the world? Am I just idealistic? Does maturity have to mean tolerating images and thoughts that I was taught since I was born were wrong and/or sacred and not to be displayed? Should I tell this person whom I love how awkward and severely uncomfortable I felt? I know he knows better, and I know he's such an incredibly awesome, wonderful person, and so shouldn't I show how much I respect him by being my characteristic blunt and tell him my thoughts? Shouldn't I do my part and help him they best way I know how and explain my feelings that, even though everyone has these desires and in of themselves, they are beautiful, but they should not be entertained till the appropriate time? Am I "preachy"? Am I self-righteous? Would he be offended? Would he speak to me again? Would he still value my opinion like he has so many times before? Would he listen? What would God have me do?
Why do we hurt people we love? If we love them, why berate and make them feel small? If we see that teasing and reawakening old, painful memories hurts a person, and that person has shown us time and time again that they DON'T think it's funny, why would we do it again? And again? And again? Why do we justify cruel teasing by saying, "They laughed, to," or "See, she's smiling,"? How on earth can "You're a good sport," and "Oh, I love you," be classified as an apology?!
What's wrong with love? Why can't people just be able to tell each other how much they care for them? And why don't we show it? What is it we're afraid of? After all, isn't loving more important than being loved? Why is emotion so hard to express? What is about crying in front of others that makes us cringe? Why do we hide emotions under casual, indifferent, shrugging cloaks?
Why is forgiving oneself so much more difficult than forgiving others? Why are we all so proud? Why does it plague our souls wherever we go and whatever we do, beyond any reasoning or logic? Why is it that even when we KNOW we are so pitiful, sinning, crude creatures, we're still capable of holding our heads above the clouds?
Why?!
Am I wrong? Should I lower my standards and tolerate the world? Am I just idealistic? Does maturity have to mean tolerating images and thoughts that I was taught since I was born were wrong and/or sacred and not to be displayed? Should I tell this person whom I love how awkward and severely uncomfortable I felt? I know he knows better, and I know he's such an incredibly awesome, wonderful person, and so shouldn't I show how much I respect him by being my characteristic blunt and tell him my thoughts? Shouldn't I do my part and help him they best way I know how and explain my feelings that, even though everyone has these desires and in of themselves, they are beautiful, but they should not be entertained till the appropriate time? Am I "preachy"? Am I self-righteous? Would he be offended? Would he speak to me again? Would he still value my opinion like he has so many times before? Would he listen? What would God have me do?
Why do we hurt people we love? If we love them, why berate and make them feel small? If we see that teasing and reawakening old, painful memories hurts a person, and that person has shown us time and time again that they DON'T think it's funny, why would we do it again? And again? And again? Why do we justify cruel teasing by saying, "They laughed, to," or "See, she's smiling,"? How on earth can "You're a good sport," and "Oh, I love you," be classified as an apology?!
What's wrong with love? Why can't people just be able to tell each other how much they care for them? And why don't we show it? What is it we're afraid of? After all, isn't loving more important than being loved? Why is emotion so hard to express? What is about crying in front of others that makes us cringe? Why do we hide emotions under casual, indifferent, shrugging cloaks?
Why is forgiving oneself so much more difficult than forgiving others? Why are we all so proud? Why does it plague our souls wherever we go and whatever we do, beyond any reasoning or logic? Why is it that even when we KNOW we are so pitiful, sinning, crude creatures, we're still capable of holding our heads above the clouds?
Why?!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Two Lumps
Let's try several spoonfuls...
Joys
From least to greatest
"You Are My Sunshine"
The Song. I love it.
Asking
I want to make others think
Accomplishing a goal
Having the Will to do it, more like
Clouds
It's a long story. Many stories, actually.
Overcoming Weakness
Not on my own, actually. I'd like it more, only it's so painful, but the rewrad is worth it.
Listening
It's awfully loud, if you pay attention.
Running
Towards, not away.
Climbing
More for being closer to Up than escaping Down.
Thinking
I've got a whole world up there.
Exploring
It's like thinking, only with your arms and legs.
Smiling
Despite everything else.
Laughing
Especially when I make others do it.
Knowing
And then you only know it MORE.
Learning
The cross between Thinking and Exploring.
Hugs
More for me than most people, I think.
Letting Someone Know/Knowing Myself
And it isn't done enough, gosh darn it!
Joys
From least to greatest
"You Are My Sunshine"
The Song. I love it.
Asking
I want to make others think
Accomplishing a goal
Having the Will to do it, more like
Clouds
It's a long story. Many stories, actually.
Overcoming Weakness
Not on my own, actually. I'd like it more, only it's so painful, but the rewrad is worth it.
Listening
It's awfully loud, if you pay attention.
Running
Towards, not away.
Climbing
More for being closer to Up than escaping Down.
Thinking
I've got a whole world up there.
Exploring
It's like thinking, only with your arms and legs.
Smiling
Despite everything else.
Laughing
Especially when I make others do it.
Knowing
And then you only know it MORE.
Learning
The cross between Thinking and Exploring.
Hugs
More for me than most people, I think.
Letting Someone Know/Knowing Myself
And it isn't done enough, gosh darn it!
Rx
You must take your medicine before the sugar for it to be effective. So, here is my "medicine."
Fears:
From least to worst
Declining health
my body holding me back from things that I love
Being Lost-Physically
I do NOT like not knowing where I am
Loneliness
I think not loving is worse than not being loved, but only just.
Not Making A Difference
At the end of my life, I want to know some one is better off because of me.
Missed Opportunities
I have the capability, but will I be too afraid or lazy to grasp life when it's in reach?
Losing my Friends
My friends have gotten me through so much. I couldn't bare betraying their trust.
Rape
I'd prefer the slowest, most painful death.
Forgetting
If I forget the people I love or the lessons I've learned, I'd lose time and most of my identity.
Fears:
From least to worst
Declining health
my body holding me back from things that I love
Being Lost-Physically
I do NOT like not knowing where I am
Loneliness
I think not loving is worse than not being loved, but only just.
Not Making A Difference
At the end of my life, I want to know some one is better off because of me.
Missed Opportunities
I have the capability, but will I be too afraid or lazy to grasp life when it's in reach?
Losing my Friends
My friends have gotten me through so much. I couldn't bare betraying their trust.
Rape
I'd prefer the slowest, most painful death.
Forgetting
If I forget the people I love or the lessons I've learned, I'd lose time and most of my identity.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Bitter-Sweet, Hold the Sweet.
This is for my sake, so if you don't want to read a teenage girl reminiscing, don't.
His name was Lucky, and he was one of my very best friends.
I believe he was sent to teach me about love and what it means to serve someone: How giving love means more than receiving it. He trusted me, and I did all in my power to not betray that trust. He was my window in the mind and heart of the Savior and his feelings toward us.
When I finally gave consent to have him put down (after he almost completely lost control of his body), I felt like part of my soul went with him and I no longer felt whole. When I thought of who I was, what made me Me, right after my belief in God, I thought of my cat Lucky. I could give a whole history of our relationship, from my third Christmas on, but that's not necessary. He lived 12.5 years. We buried him between two trees between the pond and garden. He was mine and I loved him. Goodbye, Baby. You taught me so much.
His name was Lucky, and he was one of my very best friends.
I believe he was sent to teach me about love and what it means to serve someone: How giving love means more than receiving it. He trusted me, and I did all in my power to not betray that trust. He was my window in the mind and heart of the Savior and his feelings toward us.
When I finally gave consent to have him put down (after he almost completely lost control of his body), I felt like part of my soul went with him and I no longer felt whole. When I thought of who I was, what made me Me, right after my belief in God, I thought of my cat Lucky. I could give a whole history of our relationship, from my third Christmas on, but that's not necessary. He lived 12.5 years. We buried him between two trees between the pond and garden. He was mine and I loved him. Goodbye, Baby. You taught me so much.
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