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A pantoum for the prisons

March 18, 2011

There is a single miracle left–

it will not be easy.

The clock is cracked and broken.

I almost dread the day I succeed,


it will not be easy.

The possibilities of impossible number many,

I almost dread the day I succeed.

I give God my heart to hold.


The possibilities of impossible number many

Because you told me to keep going,

I give God my heart to hold

the beads slipping between my fingers.


Because you told me to keep going

I mark the hours that I’ve passed,

the beads slipping between my fingers.

Praying for time to start.


I mark the hours I have passed

the clock is cracked and broken.

Praying for time to start

there is a single miracle left.



For Lent, I have decided to write notes

March 11, 2011

For Lent, I have decided to write notes and leave them places (along with the general goals of eating healthier and being a better person). Today, I left myself short notes that will remind me to be more conscious of others. I wrote stuff like, “Smile at a stranger.” and “Tell someone how much they mean to you.” I left these notes in a few places that I look almost everyday and some in places where I might randomly find them. They’ll help me to remember that smal actions make a difference.
This was just an introduction to what is to come. I will be writing and drawing notes to people (not myself) for the rest of the month. I am going to try to do one a day, but we’ll see. Some of these notes will go to specific people and others will be left for whoever finds it first. Happy Lent! wish me luck on this endeavor! Hopefully I’ll brighten someone’s day.

I need to put this somewhere. maybe bury it deep, deep down in my great big pile of nothingness.

January 18, 2011

I hate myself.

I am a weak person.

I am a conformist.

I give in to temptation.

I criticize others.

I hate my life.

I have ruined my chances at happiness.

I pretend I am someone I’m not.

I hate myself.

I find other’s flaws too easily.

I am hypocritical.

I should try harder.

I should not be afraid.

I should be better.

I am ungrateful.

I hate myself.

I do not deserve another chance.

Edit: I wrote this and then realized I needed to explain. What? You’ll see. To whom? Myself because that’s who I writing to and for.  So…I have recently made a mistake in my life. It could just blow over or it could destroy some of my dreams. Or I’m just being a drama queen. But anyways I had to write how much I felt about this to myself. And I put it here because then it won’t count as being kept bottled up inside. I did have suicidal thoughts when I wrote this message, but they are mainly gone now. Truly, I hope keeping this here will keep me from making the same mistake again.



December 10, 2010

Today, I was listening to somebody talk and I overheard something that rang true in my mind. This person said that the most precious things we have are our lives. And therefore, the truest way to show someone you love them is to give your life for them. This resonated with me all day long, but never truly faded from my thoughts. I began to wonder who I would give my life for….my best friend, my parents, my sister, extended family, my dog, and some of my other friends where on my final (and mental) list.And then I began to think about whether I would give my life for a stranger. I believe that many of us like to think that we would–just give up our prized possession for someone we don’t know. I’d like to think that I would have the courage to do this, though I will not positively know until it happens to me. I also pondered if my life would be worth their’s. This may sound full of me, but what I am trying to get across is that–would they go on to do better things than I would in my lifetime? Ideally, I would pick the perfect person who deserved to be saved or be so changed by their near death experience that they would still go on to do great things. But life is not ideal, and so I have just the chance of jumping in front of a moving truck to save a drug dealer as I do a girl scout. Knowing this, would I still do it? Ultimately, I would have the same result as I would before thinking this over. For some reason, this conclusion does not change my view on any of it. The real question is still whether I’d be brave enough in the first place.

All these thoughts also reminded me of war and of soldiers. We really do not thank them or recognize them enough. They do just what I am unsure I could do. They risk and give their lives for people they do not know. They are the brave people who face violence and fear that most people would never dream of. These men and women work miracles daily. So the next day you don’t think you can get out of bed, please think of them and keep pushing yourself to be worthy of the lives that are lost everyday. Also, lets try to give time,money, and other gifts to organizations who support those soldiers and make their lives a bit more happy and comfortable. Lastly, and most importantly I send out a plea to anyone who might be reading this–please pray for them. I don’t care what religion you are or if you aren’t religious, I would very much appreciate you sending a thought their way because they need it.


December 2, 2010

So I asked myself today what I was living for (okay, then I wept, I’ll admit that I sobbed for a long, ugly time). As in, what is the reason I am alive right now? Why do I want to live on?  And it got all of these thoughts roiling that are unmistakably and more than slightly suicidal. I’d love to reassure you that I figured out why I should keep on living. I wish I could tell you that its all better because I figured it out, oh and I just happened upon the meaning of life and my true love along the way(yeah, and maybe the secret to perfect fudge-making too). If I could honestly tell you that its happily ever after from here on out I would. But I cannot. I have not gotten anything straightened out, I have no clue what to do with my precious life, or even if I am worthy of it.

I cannot figure out my life in a day. I might never figure it out at all. Maybe that is what I am afraid of–not feeling fulfilled. Or maybe that is precisely the reason why I do not think dying would be awful in the least–I do not want to be let down or I do not want to struggle and fail. I have always been scared of failing: in school, in performing, around my friends, at family gatherings, talking to God, etc. I  never want to let anyone down and I do not want to feel worse than I already do. I feel like I need to stop being so hesitant and scared. That fear kept me from getting a blog for I did not want to stop and never start blogging again after a month–I did not want it to just be a phase. That is why I made this blog. Not for my friends to read or to tell my daily activities, but to get my feelings out there in the middle of everything. To cure my fears, or die trying. I know nobody will probably read this, which is fine with me because these words do not need to be read just to be here.