Our little baby bird

With eyes so round and gaping through galaxies

she balanced on the line of life and death

standing long legs and binding families

from before she took her first breath

she lives half in this realm and half in another

speaking truth and laughter

carried by the love of our mother

and the wit of our father

her little giggle brightens up rooms

and her thoughts confuse theologians 

in spring her named flower blooms

and in fright she fights like trojans 

she’ll spout creativity like it’s air

and roam like a child free in the night

with long blonde locks of hair

she constantly battles fright

she has seen and still sees the evil of this world

she knows it too well for her age

even though it may leave her whirled 

she still can enjoy her time of teenage

oh my sweet little bird full of light

I fear sometimes you may not know

with all my strength and all my might

how I love you so

I think of your sweet smile on the daily

with each day I hope to make you proud

as I imagine you playing the ukulele

and singing singing out so loud

oh my sweet, sweet little bird

I hope you always know 

oh, how I love you so

God allows Evil

The idea that God allows bad things to happen is inherently good. I could piss off and upset a lot of people by saying that. 

But I would then ask them this, would you be the person you are today, the person with the knowledge you know and the wisdom you’ve gained and the empathy you’ve come to understand if you had not gone through all of the trials you’ve been through so far? Would you be the same person you are today if none of those terrible struggles and trials had ever happened? 

My faith requires the belief that God is big enough to allow and even plan on bad things happening. In such truth I catch a glimpse of the magnitude of God. It is not that He is good and yet allows the bad but rather He is so good that He allows the bad. And of course never for arbitrary reasons but instead to bring about the capability of growth in our understanding of the true realm we come from. 

A first realm, a realm beyond this one we have come to know. Because unlike this realm with all of its limitations, the first realm is so grand and absolute that even the concept of a good God so large that He has the capability to allow an opposite to Himself is not an idea beyond comprehension. 

See when asking these questions like why does God allow evil, we are tapping into a separate world very far from our own yet living side by side with. This world is full of endless possibilities beyond what we could imagine so why do we even try to limit the probability of it. We should instead embrace the fact that there is a world beyond and answers beyond and possibilities beyond. Beyond all that our minds could form. We can’t even comprehend the size of the universe, yet we try to grasp the size of the One who hold it in His hands. But this should never stop us from asking the questions and pondering the vastness of creation and its Creator. This should instead open the floor to conversation. 

Don’t you see, the reason we have such unknown conclusions is because God wants us to have a conversation with Him? He wants us to ask questions to be frustrated to lose faith and then regain it. He wants to be constantly in communication so He has allowed gaps in our minds and limits beyond our reach. 

Our God is so big, He has allowed us to see the truth of light and darkness, good and evil, questions and sometimes answers, concepts without conclusions. 

He is so vast and grand that we will never tire of searching to discover a new region of His territory.  

Am I even good at anything?

Sometimes I ask myself this question but it is always asked when scrolling through something like instagram where everyone only ever puts their best face forward. But I just can't do that. When I see the perfect lives posted on instagram my only thought is, "wow, am I even good at anything at all? Am I traveling the world taking stunning photographs of my experiences, am I a yogi master with limbs like playdo? I know for a fact I do not fit the oh so admirable mold of the ideal "hipster" so it's not like my instagram page is any sort of theme or color sequence or cool thing with hundred of likes on pictures as simple and pointless as  my morning cup of tea." None of that is what I want out of life anyway.  I find what it beautiful and I like to share it but I wish there was a day when everyone could share more than the obvious beauty but rather the honest beauty. The rolls and curves and acne and ugly crying. I want to see the human in people. But to be honest, the only reason I want everyone else to be honest about themselves is because I crave to be honest about myself. And of course society and engraved in me that I am only ever capable and allowed to to what is accepted by the social norm. No matter how free spirit a person is or says they are or tries to be, everyone is always holding some honest part of themselves back. That is the piece I want to see. Those moment that no one else sees. The moments when you're alone in your apartment and you are doing nothing but thinking and being yourself. Your true and honest self. The one who doesn't hold in their stomach or try to look good while lounging because admit it, even if there is only one person in the room, no one is comfortable. Everyone is still putting on a face. A fake front to impress. So when I find myself with nothing much to do and wanting a spark of inspiration, I failingly turn to something like instagram. However, this always backfires at me because I only ever become discouraged. With only ever seeing the actually picture perfect "lives" in front of me I am given a false sense of how things should be or how society demands them to be. Everyone has to be unique but also fit in. Everyone has to be creative and come up with new ideas but only the new ideas that are or will be accepted by all the top notch fashion bloggers. What complete and tter bullshit. It really is horrifying. I really only like instagram because I like the filters and edits it provides and it allows a place for me to put my documentations in an accessible place so that I may go back one day and find some long forgotten memory from my own life. That's it. Its really just a storage unit that others are blessed to be apart of. So why ever treat it otherwise. I don't want to go into a business where I rely on the media or the internet or any computer like object for my income or my passion. I want to make art. If the world requires a digital documentation of it to live, fine, I'll deal, but to solely rely on electronics as your form or creative outlet? I am simply not built that way. I commend those who are and enjoy such things. I enjoy typing and messing with the possibilities of electronics, but when it comes to getting in the zone, when my true creativity comes out, it has to be raw. It has to be organic. It has to be tangible. It has to be part of reality. Not digiality. I know it is different for other people, but for me, I just can't handle the idea of being so infested in a form of social media like instagram that it becomes my livelihood, to document my life for other's entertainment, and then get paid to advertise, like a living breathing walking billboard. I'm sorry but that just seems so absolutely fake. Sorry, sometimes I feel this way after going on instagram. But that is my rant. The End.

Ramble Ramble No One Reads This

So I guess I'm going to ramble about my brain for a second here...actually it'll probably last a lot longer than a second. And I know no one really reads anything I write except my mom (hi mom<3) and maybe some random people. SO I feel pretty comfortable saying kind of just whatever I want. This is in fact my "Writings of Adventure" blog anyways. I'm literally writing and adventuring in my writing. Because let's be honest, everything is an adventure with the right attitude.

My most recent and preceding adventure is more of a mental one. I have been climbing mountains and trudging through valleys in my own cognitive terrain. Dealing with the health of my own consciousness and how to take care of myself and my thoughts. It's a little easier when you are able to define exactly the thoughts and why they work the way they do and how they form in the way they form when you are given a definitive word or label for your style of thinking. However, the rebuttal is true. The last thing anyone wants is to be put into a box and defined only as that word or phrase that carries its own baggage of stereotypes and assumptions.

So I don't define myself by my diagnosis, mainly because even with people who may have the same diagnosis, I am still unique in my own. Even in my own category there are subdivisions and subgroups with their own lists of each individual circumstance.

I am a fiercely passionate person with a wild imagination and a craving for adventure and new places to see. I have skills in art and design and I am able to use my spontaneous thinking to create new and magical creations. I am able to use my spirited mental methods to explore ideas and depths and concepts of a more bewildered intent.  It's fun being me but I firmly believe that it is only fun for me to be me. No one else would have as much fun being me as I do because no one is me and I am no one else but me. That's it. And it's so much fun that way.

The End.

so..it's been awhile

I really should be working on my Exo/Deu essay right now but I was feeling inspired and posting on my blog had been a long time coming. Let's see, well I'm in my sophomore year of college. I transferred schools and changed my major. Let's start there I guess. I left for a couple reasons.

Culturally, the environment at my previous school was kinda rough.  I recently went back to visit a friend just for a short moment this weekend, (we were leaving to go take bitchin photos at cool abandoned places) and I got a horribly sick feeling in my stomach, a feeling I know all too well. At this particular school, I had two social options (well one wasn't really an option because I wouldn't be accepted into that option).

The first being the prime cut preppy overly conservative Christians who led numerous double standards and lived life through hypocrisy but judged you if you broke code.

The second were the accepting wild creatures of the night, the ones who drank 5-6 days out of the week (at this school you could because the classes were a breeze and didn't require a sober mind to pass) and were accepting of all kinds; ethnicity, sexuality, weight, and gender.

So as a passionate artist who loves Jesus immensely but is also a totally wild, free-spirit hippie, I was lost in translation. I of course went straight toward the 50% who would accept me no matter how wild and crazy and irrational I can be (the partiers: some raised in it and some raised so conservatively that they raged with a wild rebellion that would terrify the Pope). But in doing so I was giving up my commitment to God.

So, for that year, I walked in a mildly askew direction. Wandering around and looking in all the wrong places for meaning and acceptance and depth of consciousness and heart. I did the new student cliché thing and started kinda sorta dating someone within the first week of school...lame I know.

This inevitably screwed me over for pretty much the rest of the semester until I started liking one of my new yet really close guy friends...bad move Summer. Here's a note of advice: don't toy with the boys who actually like you who are your friends if you don't actually feel the same romantic feelings back because then you'll just get confused about how you feel about them which confuses them and in the end everyone is heartbroken. But, thank the LORD, we're still good friends, in a kinda twisted and awkward way.

So yea it was a rough year. To those who think you can hang out with the partiers and not actually be pressured to party, YOU ARE WRONG. After a while, the absurd and previously deranged actions and emotions become a sort of norm, a comfort even, a safe haven. When you are all crazy, no one's crazy and everyone's sain. It's kind of beautiful in many ways but damaging to the important things.

SO moving on, I transfered. Partly because the societal environment was hindering to my original goal in life and also because I tend to have a flight reaction rather than fight reaction. Physically, if someone wants to attack me, yea I'll beat the living shit out of them, but emotionally, relationally, people getting close, dangerously close before I have time to trust them, yea I'm on the next flight out especially if I smell trouble.

I wasn't always like that though. I used to be very good at staying and working things out. But that dwindled away back in like my sophomore year of high school. Then I learned to run. So, in a sense I ran, as I kinda crave to do. I like new places, new experiences, new identities, new people, I like newness and change, maybe to an over exaggerated sense. For example, I'm only in my first semester here at my new school and I am already going away next semester to do studies in the mountains.

I really like newness. But newness can be oldness. I like contradictions and irony and paradoxes. So I like new things that are old but new to me. I like going back to old things that I have left because I am always new. Looking back on my old and forgotten things, gives them all a newness.

Maybe that's why I like to leave, so I can go back and say I left and came back. So I will always be on the move, a free spirit just making memories and long lasting connections and then suddenly leaving, like a favorite character in a John Green book.

What I don't like is overdone rhythm. Yea rhythm and routine are good for a short while, but as time goes on, and maybe it's because of me getting older, but the time I can last in routine gets shorter and shorter. But I always go back. I give time away and make hearts grow fonder and then I return for that open armed expression of love and surprise when I finally show up again. Maybe that's it, my one true fear. Being forgotten in the rhythm of things. Becoming like wallpaper from time and time passed by. Disappearing into the norm of everyday life. How boring.

At this point, I am just rambling, but hey, it's not like anyone reads my blog anyways. I am really just utilizing my sudden spark of inspiration to procrastinate on my assignments. I just want to write though. I want to write what's in my mind and create what's in my thoughts and paint the things I see. Too bad I have to get a degree. But, I really shouldn't complain. I have an amazing opportunity and I can do so much more exploring and 'running' through school than I would be able to if I was just back home with a job trying to save up for traveling.

I'm doing good here. Keeping sain for the most part. I've got my emotions stabled to an extent and surprisingly without using western medications but with natural healthy practices. Like being vegan and exercising daily and only drinking coffee on occasion.

I'm just tired.

My own damn fault though. I didn't sleep all of friday or saturday night or day and then slept till 3:30 on sunday, went back to sleep at 10 only to be woken by my mildly obnoxious roommate at 1 am and didn't fall back asleep till 2am only to be woken again at 7 for my class. So yea I'm tired.

But, hey, that's college.

I feel like so much has happened and I've grown so much yet I'm still a child. A baby, still about to embark on a great adventure. It gets worse every day. I wake up a suddenly realize, "wow, I remember like yesterday when I would dream of being in college and how old I would feel." only to be quickly followed by, "damn, I'm only 19. I'm like still in diapers compared to everyone here." Maybe that's just because I'm in senior/junior housing but still, I definitely don't feel my age, or any age for that matter. I just feel like a constant existence slowly growing and changing but also staying the same. (yea I like contradictory statements)

Anyways, that's my update for now. I'll probably write tomorrow because I tend to write in clusters of a ton at a time or absolutely nothing at all. I say that as if anyone reads this blog of mine. But, I'm kinda glad no one does. Then, I don't have an image I have to keep up, I can just be me and that's it.

It's 9:12pm and I really should work on my homework if I want to get a few hours of shut eye before my roommate brings the circus into our room. Farewell for now my imaginary friends.

I just want to be happy

I don’t understand

why does it hurt so much just to be alive?

I push everyone away even though it kills me to be alone

I need something but I don’t know what it is

I try and I try and I try to be strong and brave and start each day brand new 

but it all hurts so much

just mere existence is a sluggish and painful walk

like trying to run in water

I keep kicking and kicking without going anywhere

Everywhere I go I keep feeling the desire to just get out

No matter how beautiful a day is

all I want to do is leave

go home

wherever that is

because even when I go home I want to just get out

like I want to be somewhere and nowhere at the same time

gone and going away far far away

running from myself

myself and the sorrow I carry

what makes me this way? why am I plagued with so much pain?

Numbing pain

I am trying to be strong, but I am so very weak

I can’t do this on my own and yet I feel like no one can help me

does anyone truly understand the feelings of wanting to escape from your own self

wanting to just be someone else

just for a day

taste what it feels like to be free and rid of yourself

I just want to be someone else because I don’t like myself

How did it come to this? I used to be so strong

What happened? What was the trigger?

I just want to be back to who I used to be

Full of joy and free to be, free of me

When did the darkness begin to take over?

I wish I could go back and warn myself,

stop myself from becoming me

Maybe change the course and give myself a good and solid chance of becoming someone else, someone great

but I guess life doesn’t work like that

there’s no magic, there’s no three wishes or fairy dust to help us fly

there’s no time machines to make better of our lives

there’s just this flat world, like a dirty white canvas, waiting to be cleaned and used 

waiting to become colorful and bright 

waiting waiting

always waiting

always wishing

always wanting something else

never content

Always wanting to live and be bright yet 

All I am is dying and covered in a shadow

I wish I could put blame on someone else

Make a villain 

A face to the darkness, a face I can hate but all I see is my own reflection

I want to live 

I want to be joyful

I want to just be happy

truly happy

If I want it so badly then why am I not happy?

Shouldn’t the simple desire be enough?

Why isn’t it enough?

like a leach attached to my spine

an emotion I have not yet a name for

unnamable unchangeable unbreakable

like sorrow but deeper

like anger but softer

like death but lonelier 

what than, curses me with such hatred

such despise 

such pain in my soul, numbing pain

for my own existence

my own essence

my own image perceived by the world

what used to fuel my anger and passion to move on

now eats me alive

like a flame sparks form on wood but soon devour it

I too began as a spark from this part that sets me apart

now I can’t help the whispers

whispers of lies

you are wrong

you are incorrect

you are out of place

out of shape

not you're out of you and apart from you're yet trapped in you

chained inside thick fatty tissue suffocating me

i want to scream, it all pains me so, the pain of existence

not that i want to die, Because I don’t

I want to live, that’s the whole point

I want to live so badly but this pain is killing me

I want to cry and tell of all my misery and pain

but I fear of hurting those who love me and those who matter so much

I fear my own pain will hurt them all, because I know it has already

so I keep quiet, silent as I implode 

a star dying, creating a black hole in its whole

breaking breaking down to nothing but dust

no one can help me now, it’s all up to me to help myself

I wish this would inspire me, but it only dreads me

where did it all go?

the passion the love the excitement 

the hope

all now replaced with pain and agony inside stillness and silence

how can one hate their own reflection?

such a thought used to be so distant now familiar

so what’s the hope in it all? Not a matter of meaning but a matter of purpose

where does mine lie? Lies. 

Isolation. So very isolated in this forest emptied of all its color

no. not a forest. not with trees. an expanse of tall shadows stretching to the highest place unseen. 

will it all stop? I try and I try so hard.

I’m always trying. 

Can’t you tell I’m trying? 

Can’t you tell I’m crying for help because I’m trying, because I’m dying?

A silent cry for help.

Is it chemical or is it me.

Is it me or is it here. Is it this or is it just me. 

Am I the one walking around with eyes closed off to sunlight or is it I who now sees

sees the truth of life, the darkness 

I just don’t know anymore

I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not

All i can tell is it hurts and all I want to do is cry

All I want is to live

All I want is joy

All I want is light

Yet I am surrounded by darkness

Always

Enough

Sometimes when I look in the mirror, not every day just some days, I don’t feel pretty. 

I am a strong activist in making sure everyone feels beautiful and comfortable in their own skin. However, I seem to have the most self-image issues. It’s hard not to nit-pick at every little detail of your own human body. 

My nails aren’t long enough, my fingers too chubby, my thighs too thundery, my toes are just plain weird, my stomach will never be small or flat enough, my boobs are too small, my butt isn’t tight enough, my lips are too thin, my eyebrows not dark enough, my roots too dark, I’m so freaking short, my legs are disproportional to my torso, my arms too flabby, I’m not strong enough, I’m not fast enough, enough enough ENOUGH! 

I don’t think I would feel this way if I had nothing to compare myself to. 

Some standard, some criteria I feel I need to fit. Sometimes I wonder, if I lived alone on a remote tropical island, just me, myself, the sea, and the sun, would I feel this way? Would I think these things about myself?

When I imagine this place, I feel fine. I feel my insecurities rolling off my shoulder. Because out there, no one would compete, no one would compare, I could just be me. 

I could run freely on the beach with no concern for how people might see me, I would lounge on the sand and swim in the sea and eat fish and fruit all day. I would sleep on the sand heated from the day, under the inexhaustible amount of stars above me, because there would be no light pollution. 

There wouldn’t be any pollution of any kind. No mind pollution, no magazines, no TV, no celebrities. 

I could just live, free. 

I would need only a knife and an endless supply of sketch books and pens and pencils. But I kind of need music to live too. So maybe my ukulele too. 

It would be beautiful. I could just sit and draw and write, take baths in the waterfalls, eat good fruit, exercise as I please, and swim swim swim in the sea. 

This is my dream. Kind of lonely but I like to be alone. But not in public places. I like to be alone in nature. It’s my favorite thing. 

Maybe, hopefully, someday, God will bring someone into my life who will understand and be able to sit silently with me. Someone who’s presence gives me the same peace of being alone without the stress of other people. Someone who will understand the things I think are important and know how to keep things in place. 

I get angry when things are out of place. Not in the way where I’m OCD about how a table should be set or how my room is put or anything, but in a broader sense, with people. Some people are just so out of place. 

I can so clearly see the shit in this world. And it sucks. If I had it my way, I would gather everyone and fill them with truth, beauty, and love. 

If I could have any super power it would be the ability to place warmth and kindness into someone’s heart. I could just reach over and gently slip my hand into someone’s chest cavity, right between the ribs, and light a match in their heart, thaw out the ice, seal the torn pieces, patch up the holes and soften the edges. 

Then maybe everyone would feel like they were enough. Because in truth, we are. You are enough. You can’t wait on the day when someone else decides to love you. You have to first love yourself. 

Your nails are the best length and look great with that polish. 

Your hands are crafted that way so you can create, just look at all you’re capable of with your square strong hands, your thighs and your legs are beautiful and can run and jump and kick ass. Your toes are absolutely PERFECT, there are the exact copy of your sweet mother’s which makes them even better. 

Your stomach is strong and sweet and wonderful, no matter the size. 

Your boobs are even and round and wonderfully proportionate to your body (and so easy to dress) and let’s be real, boobs have one job, make milk, so yours are great simply because they boobs. 

Your ass, girl, your ass is phenomenal, you know how to shake that ass like nobody’s business. Your lips know how to smile and frown and be stern and laugh and speak truth, thats awesome!

Your eyebrows are what make your face, they are so amazing at portraying your emotion and expressing your feelings when you simply just can’t. 

Your hair lightens and darkens with the seasons, you actually embody the change of season in the colors of you! How amazing is that!? 

You are an amazing and adorable height, perfect for climbing on things and traveling around and reaching high places, you fit everywhere! Compact and minimalistic, how perfect!? 

Your legs and torso are perfect in proportion, you always knew that, don’t let that one person’s comment on your body change your idea of yourself, because you know the truth. 

Your arms are soft and and cuddly and strong and can do SO much. 

You are strong. Not in just the physical way. But emotionally. Girl, you can handle some real shit. You know what is important in life and you know what is worth putting your strength into, and that is wisdom, and wisdom is strength. And you are so fast, you’re always one step ahead of the game. You’re so fast, you need to slow down. Take a breather, take a moment to take it all in and just pause.......because you are more than enough. You are loved. 

The Beautiful Nightmare

I had a beautiful nightmare last night, there was a parade and I was in a long white gown with slits in the waist and one shoulder dropped, it constricted my knees and made it hard to run. I had to run, because I was being chased. I was being chased by all my past failed romances, the ones that persisted after denial. One by one they gave up on the chase until the ones whose persistence lasted longer and longest continued to chase me. I could name them all, except one. I ran and ran through the parade and through shoppes with wild season sales, people frantically moving everywhere. I ran and ran, up elevators. Until I had outrun all but one, the one I couldn't name because I couldn’t recognize. I hid in a bathroom with a ten foot pole with a fishing hook as my only defense. The chase had run for hours. Only the tip of the hook was visible from the hall and if I just hand’t moved it, I could have stayed hidden, but i pulled my overbearing defense in toward myself and in doing so I alarmed the unnamed man-boy chasing me. he ran into the bathroom and saw me standing there in the shower, my long gown destroyed from the chase and my knuckles white from clutching the 10 foot fishing hook. I stretched it out toward him, with the sharp tip pressed against his chest, he pressed forward pushing me back, pinning my defense 10 feet between us. He spoke something that doesn't make any sense now that i'm awake. “you're just going to disappoint them, your sister. everyone. if you run, i'll catch you, if you hide i'll find you. you can never escape from me.”  I was afraid to hurt him, he carried a false innocence with him. He looked so handsome and sweet and seemed very strong and attractive, but in a terrifying offensive way. I couldn't keep around him because I knew It would just end in pain, so I escaped and ran to an elevator, the doors closing just in time before he could catch up to me. I arrived at the bottom floor of a tall building and ran out the lobby and into the woods. running and running and hiding. I was out of breath when I finally awoke, panting like it had all been real. My bones ached as I rose from my bed. Still half asleep and awestruck that my dream had lasted so long, I contemplated in my dazed mind what it all could have meant. My only conclusion, it was a beautiful nightmare. 

Dear Jasmine (for when you start college)

Let me tell you a little something about the first year of college.

You will make mistakes. Everyone does.

I am just about to finish my first year of college and next year I’m moving in with May at APU, hopefully I will be able to make a better life for myself there. I’m trying. We all are. You have only four more years until you will be in my same position, hopefully with less mistakes up your sleeve. So here are a few little tips I wish I had known before I started college:

1. First off, it is easy to get away with anything. The ability to get alcohol or drugs or break the rules or whatever is way too easy. There's always someone who knows someone who is 21. It is always accessible. You don't even have to look for it. Your friends will do it. It will seem normal. You will want to experience the fullness of college and all it’s crazy extravaganzas. 95% of the time you're breaking some sort of law. (And no one ever wears seat belts) I didn't expect that even at a conservative baptist school there would be so much partying. But college is still college no matter where you go. It’s crazy how easily you can get away with things. This isn’t an excuse to make bad decisions. Be prepared that no matter how sheltered a school is, it is still college and everyone is still trying to figure out what to do with their new unadulterated freedom. Temptation is out there. Strength is in your knowledge. Know what’s out there and you can't be taken off guard.
2. Secondly, bad decisions don’t make you a bad person. You will mess up. You will party a little. You will kiss a few frogs. It happens. Don’t use this as an excuse to make poor decisions but also be aware you will slip sometimes and that doesn’t make you a terrible person. You are human. And you will make mistakes, willingly and unwillingly, drunk and sober, morning and night. Temptation is everywhere.  
3. Thirdly, be single. For crying out loud be single. This is a time to find yourself and who you want to be. It is impossible to try and date someone when you don’t even know who you are yet. Boys don’t really turn into men, although they may look like men, they don’t become men until later on in life. College freshman boys don't suddenly become all grown up the summer after graduation. Big sister tip: wait and go for the older guys. 
4. Fourthly, you will struggle with God. Your faith will tug and pull and there will be highs and lows and you will grow and wilt. You will get lost then found then lost again. You will question everything you have ever come to know or believe in. The devil leaves no stone unturned when tempting you. But in the same way, God leaves no stone unturned when healing you. Stay strong. Your faith is everything. You can fail every test and course you ever take but you can never fail with God. Because in the end. That’s all you’ll have. It will be hard to keep your faith and look towards God and you will fall away. Everyone does. Just remember to go back to Him. You will hurt and you will cry, a lot during this process.
5. Speaking of crying, you think you cried a lot before? You have no idea how many tears you will shed in just your freshman year of college. I don't typically cry, but I had cried more times in just this first year of college then in all my life together. You will stress cry, you will cry tears of sorrow and tears of fear and tears of shame, you will cry tears of laughter and tears of joy. You will also just sometimes cry just because sometimes you need a good cry. Life is overwhelming, crying is the human body’s way of trying to purge out the toxins of the world from your sweet soul. Allow yourself to sit in down in the shower every once in a while and just cry, because life is tough. Especially when you're 18 and trying to figure out when to act like a child and when to act like an adult.
6. Be outgoing and make friends with everyone! Meet new people every day. Everyone is on their own when they start college and everyone wants to go hang out with the cute big eyed, long legged, blondie with the cute giggle and the dorky faces and voices. You are beautiful and your laughter is infectious, so go and infect the world. The more people you meet, the broader range you have to chose from. You want to spread your arms wide then be able to collect a few good friends you do everything with. You’re going to want to have your girls around. But it is still nice to know that you have other friends you can go to if your close friends bug you, because they will. Everyone will bug you.
7. Living so close to other people will bug you. They will touch your things, they will take your clothes and they won’t wash them or put them back and you may never see your favorite shirt ever again. They will sleep in your bed and make you sleep on the couch. They will overstep their boundaries because just like you, this way of living will be new to them. And not everyone is a true friend. Remember, who ever you surround yourself with, you will become like them in 5 years. So when you meet someone and you’re considering hanging out with them, think, do I want to be like them in five years? Just because you like hanging around someone doesn't mean you want to become like them. Keep four quarters not a hundred pennies. Surround yourself with people you encourage and inspire you. Be kind to everyone but keep close those who are going to be good and true friends. This is so every important.
8. Also important, I am not going to judge you on your mistakes you make. So call me. Whether you're drunk and at a party or someones house or you're stranded somewhere because some “friends” abandoned you, or whether you just feel like shit and you want to vent and cry and need to tell someone what’s going on, no matter what, call me. I want you to know that you can tell me literally anything. That's what sisters are for. They are there to tell everything to. They are there to be the person who will never judge you or make you feel worse for making mistakes. Big sisters are there to guide you. They are there to beat up whoever tries to lay a finger on you. They are there to back you up when you stand up for yourself. They are there to cuddle and cry into when the whole world is after you. If you are just stressed or tired or need a hug, call me. If you made a mistake and you feel guilty about it and don't feel like you can talk to anyone about it, call me. When in doubt, call me. That’s what big sisters are for. So call me. Happy or sad, call me!

This time in your life is about change. You will find yourself growing up faster than you can take a breath. But just like the song from Spirit, remember who you are. 

Jasmine, you are so unique. You balance on a fine line between this world and the next. You see things no one has ever seen and you experience life in an entirely different way. You understand the world for what it is and you see it for what it could be. You are kind and sweet and know what it feels like to be scared. 

Something I have come to learn in this past year is that God doesn’t allow us to get hurt or to feel scared because we make mistakes but rather for an entirely different reason. We make mistakes and we get hurt, we feel the terrible and we experience the worst, but not so that we can just simply know and experience the world so we can be a better person. 

But rather it is those experiences, those times of trial where we push ourselves to become strong not for ourselves but for others. 

You are sensitive so you know how to treat sensitive people. 

You cry so you know how to comfort others when they cry. 

You get scared because this would is fucking scary. IT’S TERRIFYING! 

There’s danger around every corner and tragedy is always ready to strike. 

You get scared and you see the dangers of the world so you can protect people.

But most of all, you are so strong so you can make others strong.

Like I mentioned before, knowledge is power, knowledge is strength. You know the true fears of the world, the true darkness that lies beneath the mask of the world and you know how to deal with it. Your deep and rooted moral compass is something I wish I had. Your gut feelings are truer than what the world, including your friends, will tell you. Trust it. And when in doubt, call me. 

Good luck Weenie,

Your loving big (yet shorter) older sister, Summer

A kind soul

Lately I've been having kind of a rough time. Getting close to the Lord is hard, the devil makes sure of that, but being away from the Lord is harder. I chose my hard, and it’s hard, I wouldn't expect it to be any less. But lately, since my most recent showdown with God, my chronic scowl has been a little more on the extreme side due to thinking so hard and talking so intensively with God. I've set myself up for a plan. Because I am transferring schools, I get a new start, a new fresh beginning, like this first year of college was the trial run and now it’s time to really get down to business. My three main goals, going from least important to most important, are: Healthy Life, Healthy Body, and Healthy Spirit.

Get money, Get fit, and Get God. 

That’s my motto. 

I keep having to remind myself to take it step by step, day by day, moment by moment. I’m getting there. It’s a process, not a one step solution. 

As I travel on this journey to better myself I find it harder and harder to see the kindness in the world. Everyone seems to have so much hurt and pain that that’s all they give out. It’s hard to have your eyes opened by God. I imagine the man in the Bible who was given sight by Jesus and all I want to ask him is what he thought when he first saw the world. Did he see the pain and the hurt and the ugly or did he see the beauty and the kindness and the joy? I've noticed that when the eyes of my heart go from open to close to open to close, I can quickly see the difference. When they're closed, everything is the same shade of gray, nothing really is separated from the next; sins, blessings, curses, prayers, it all fades into one another and becomes one big gray world. 

But when they eyes of my heart are opened, everything is in bright colors and beauty is everywhere. The light is clear, but so is the darkness. 

Nothing is gray matter, everything seems clear, then slowly but surely my eyes will close and everything will fade to gray again, but that’s life, a series of ups and downs. 

But right now, my eyes are fresh and open and looking all around. And this morning, on my way back from a brutal gym time of sweat and snot and congestion (i’m getting a cold) I found a kind soul. My face was fire hot red and my muscles were shaking from such an intense workout and I was sniffling from my growing cold. As I was walking back to my little cute cottage I pass a young man, slightly awkward but sweet looking, I didn't really think much of him as I barely smiled and passed him. 

So I continue walking, worship blasting in my headphones. He walks back towards me and waves me down to get my attention. Removing my earbuds he asks “Hey are you okay?” In a kind gentle voice. Startled I could barely get out “Yea, I just have a cold so my nose is kind of running.....but, thanks.” “Okay, well have a nice day!” “You too” I smile again, still struck that someone could be so kind to a complete stranger like me. It was small and doesn't seem like much but it meant a lot to me, to be noticed.

This kind of simply humanity is what I always find is missing in the world. Why is is so startling, so foreign, so different that a human being would check on another human being. I admire the bravery, the courage of that kind soul who took a moment out of his day, probably stressed about getting to class, whatever his life contains, he took a moment to recognize that I may not be okay and he stepped forward, took a chivalrous action. How brave, how kind, how sweet, how Christ-like, how beautiful. 

“In the end, only kindness matter.”

 You sir, wherever you may be, thank you, thank you for being a kind human being. You are wonderful and I wish I could be more like you in your bravery and selflessness to care for a stranger, a fellow human. You, sir, are admirable and those few seconds of honest and pure kindness mattered a lot to me today. Thank you. 

Imagine

Imagine how many times we as humans have probably broken God’s heart. In our sin, in our rebellion, in our hurting, in our causing of pain. With our wars, our massacres, our devious plans, our jealousy, our selfishness. And yet He still returns, He still loves us, He still keeps pulling on us the way the sea pulls on the shore, for all of eternity until we finally return to Him.

Imagine looking at humanity from God's eyes. 

These things, these pieces of art, these masterpieces you have spent so much time and energy on creating, each and every detail so purposeful, and yet, they hate themselves, they harm each other, they ignore you, they resent you, they reject you. 

Imagine the pain you would feel if something, not just anything, but everything you have spent your existence on, companions made for you by you, just said no. 

"But I made you! I want you! I love you! Don't I deserve you! I created you! I would die for you!"

This is what I would probably say to these things I poured so much love into.

Imagine pouring all your love into something you have made, like a song, or a painting, or a sculpture, or a novel, and in return that thing turns to you and say "No!" 

Rejects you completely, hates you and then destroys itself. Your heart would be shattered. 

Now imagine looking at yourself in the mirror after being rejected by your own creation and turning yourself into your creation. Turning yourself into the song, the painting, the sculpture, the novel, and entering the world you placed your creation in, as your creation, 

and then dying. 

Imagine dying for something you love so deeply and have loved and will love forever. 

Hoping that FINALLY maybe your creation, your song, your painting, your sculpture, your novel will see how much you love it and love you in return. 

But no, once again it rejects you, and continues on in its existence of hurting itself and all of your other songs, paintings, sculptures, and novels. 

Imagine the pain you would feel. Watching these things you hand crafted and love so deeply, destroy themselves.

Imagine how heartbroken you would get. 

Imagine how you would feel. 

Wouldn't you want to just give up? 

Well, God doesn't give up. 

He keeps loving. 

He keeps pulling on His masterpiece. 

He wants only to love and be loved by the one thing He so dearly desires, 

You. 

Just imagine. 

Sometimes it take the scraping fall to know how to land.

So for a while now I've been going through some typical college freshman problems.  Friends, boys, classes, partying, medical things, finding myself, deciding on my future. 

I would consider myself on the extreme side when it comes to spirituality in nature.  

If I can’t hear the birds chirping, the waves crashing, the wind blowing or something out in the sky, I feel numb. 

Lately I had been feeling so numb. Emotionally, physically, mentally, numb. All I wanted to do was sleep, all day every day. Some could classify this as a sign of depression. I would specify it more as a spiritual depression but I classify this as a lack of communication. Lack of communication with myself, with the world around me, but most importantly, a lack of communication with Him. That big guy upstairs hadn't been coming down stairs lately. I would find myself constantly questioning every single last thing I’ve ever believed in or been taught about God. His very existence was even in question, let alone his teachings I vowed to follow.

My friends’ lives seem to consist of partying, stressing about classes, crappy fast food, drinking, hooking up with people, more drinking, and more stress. 

I used to think I could be completely alone in my faith and still be strong. Turns out it’s pretty impossible to stay true to yourself when all you hear about 24/7 is shitty radio music, parties, drama, and binge drinking. It’s like no one can just hang out, there’s always got to be booze. What happened to waking up before the rest of the world and cooking fantabulous breakfasts and reading and being creative and spending the days talking to God about whatever pops into my mind. What happened to having people around me who have morals and standards? 

College happened. And I was not prepared. 

I guess there was no way I could have ever been prepared. Sometimes it takes the scraping fall to know how to stand. I know i'm being harsh. I'm kind of harsh. Life is harsh. 

When you're numb, you like to test it. Test just how numb you really are. You'll do stupid things just to feel something. It’s different for everyone. Some people try sexual things, some people try drugs, some people try alcohol, I tried falling. Now I'm not saying I ever purposefully fell and harmed myself. Not at all. I'm simply saying that if I was climbing a boulder or jumping over a fence, I wasn't going to cut it short in fear of falling and getting hurt. I just didn't have a fear of falling. Never have. Never will. Falling doesn't really scare me, physically that is. Emotionally or mentally falling, now that is on the top of my short list of fears. 

Bruises and scrapes and cuts are battle wounds to me. Life is a battle, we are constantly at war: war with ourselves, war with each other, war with God. The world and everyone in it, is always at war.  

But when I stop feeling the need to fight, that is when something is seriously wrong. When I begin to wake up in the morning with zero motivation to open my eyes, it’s not because I hate the mornings, in fact I'm a “sun shining out of my ass” type of morning person, but when I personally wake up and feel no need to begin the day, I know I'm not doing well. I can fall and get right back up before I can even think about shedding a tear. Physically I can withstand pain. But emotionally, the absolute worst, most agonizing pain I can and will ever feel is the feeling of being numb. Numb in my mind, numb in my creativity, numb in my heart. 

So I guess you could say I was depressed. 

This does not mean I was wanting to go kill myself or anything. I simply was depressed. 

My body felt heavy, not fat, but heavy. My shoulders hanging low and my eyes barely open. Like a walking talking fake smiling zombie. None of my friends could have known or maybe will ever know that I was going through that. They don’t know me well enough and haven't known me long enough to understand when somethings up (or down) with me. 

Thursdays are like our fridays when it comes to late night plans, and one thursday night we decided to have a bonfire. The typical routine occurred, figuring out what we wanted to do, everyone getting stressed and loud, trying to find someone to buy us booze, everyone being stressed about it, finding out how to pay for it, everyone still loud and stressing, and finally heading down to the fire pit area. An area with open desert hills and plains, hidden from the city and the main street, a common place for college kids to go hang out late at night. Me and the guys went around in the trucks picking up some wood then getting to the spot. We went off roading, me and the boys, kicking up dirt and going places we maybe shouldn't go, waiting for the rest of the gang to show up with the alcohol. It was a typical night, feeling numb as ever. 

The less stressful half of the girls finally show up, drama and all about our two most stressful friends, and begin to party. I was in the mood to run so I did. I ran up the hill toward the entrance, and then the next, and the next, I just kept running. One of my friends decided to follow me (they still haven't caught on to my need to be alone sometimes, they still worry every time I leave their sight and always come and spoil my personal moments). I lay down to take a breather and she comes and sits next to me. My other friend (the one who wants us to be more than friends) starts to drive on over to find us and I being pissed off from them hovering, run off. I just kept running, through the tall grassy hills with the stars above me and the half moon glowing, I ran. I climbed and scaled down sharp walls of dirt and spiky grass. I didn't care about falling or the bruises or scrapes I was getting. 

The gutter was filled with water so I laid on the hill near it hiding from my friends and watched cars drive by. After hearing my friend’s truck drive by my hiding spot a few times I thought I'd go back and let them know I wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere and that I just wanted to be alone for a bit. 

So I return to the pit. My other friends show up with the booze and begin to drink, offering me multiple times. I wasn't in the mood, even for just one beer.  

Annoyed, I leave again. Running the other direction this time. Away from the street and into the desert hills. And of course the same two friends follow me. Maybe I should start telling them it’s not unusual for me to just run off sometimes. Maybe they'd stop following me. 

So I keep running and they keep following. 

Eventually, I get to the top of one of the hills where my girlfriend has already reached because she ran ahead and show off a little. My asthma likes to kick in right when I'm finally feeling good so it takes me a little longer to reach the top and the friend who likes me stays with me as I heave my way to the top. My lungs ablaze and all. But I don’t stop, I keep walking. I reach the top and keep moving onto the next hill. The friend who stayed with me tries to follow but I finally tell him to just stay and let me be alone for a bit. I also secretly wanted him to hang out with my other friend, hoping he would stop having feelings for me and begin connecting with her.  

So I keep running, my lungs on fire and filled with dirt and secondhand smoke. I run until I can’t see my friends any more and I land on the top of a hill in the center of all the hills, not the tallest one but still a great view of the dreadful city and beautiful stars. 

I begin to talk aloud with God, or more like talk at God. 

“What’s going on. Why can't I feel anything, huh? Sorry I haven't talked to you at all lately. I'm just not in a good place.” 

My monologue continues, hitting all the different failing aspects of my life “Look, I don't want to be your little princess. I'm not some dainty little fragile thing that needs to be kept safe. Come on put me on the front lines. I need to be active. Why can't I be the strong one? Oh and where’s my husband? Will I even get to have one? Where have you been? Why can't I just live in the hills forever, huh? Hello!?! Are you even there? Have you ever been there? Or am I just a psycho talking to myself in the dark. Hello!? Answer me! Where the hell are you? Fuck, WHERE ARE YOU!? HELLO!!!??!” Screaming at the sky, trying to get my quiet voice out into the stars I feel defeated.

Then I wait, silent, waiting for something, anything, hoping a big booming voice will come raining down from the heavens and speak profoundly into me and tell me what to do. I hear some bird whistle and fly by. My mom has always been a bird, and me her baby. The wind begins to pick up, we've had a lot of wind lately in the area by my school. It starts to get a little stronger, gradual at first, then begins to pick up pace, getting stronger and stronger. I start to become frightened as the gust becomes so strong, it knocks me to my knees.

I know.

I begin to weep, every time the wind seems to be at its strongest it grows stronger. With my hands and nails digging into the sandy dirt, my forehead on the ground by my hands covered in sweat, tears, and snot, I wale. Like a child I cry out, terrified. Never so scared in my entire life (and I don't scare easily). He surrounds me. I keep thinking it’s going to stop but it doesn’t. It continues, like a desert storm pinning my into the dry soft soil with no end in sight. Finally I scream “OKAY! I get it I see you!” 

Frozen, in awe of what is happening. My mind becomes empty and I feel a sort of terrified peace. 

The numbness disappears. 

I feel everything. 

I quickly pray, I know I see you now but I may fall again. Please always remind me. 

The wind slowly calms but never stops and slowly I rise off my knees, once fire hot and sweating, not shivering and trying to bundle up. I stand, shaking, partly cold and partly still scared. Frozen and silent I begin to speak to Him in my mind, how do I go back to my friends without making a scene. I'm no longer numb. How to I explain that to them? Should I even say anything? Lord, stay with me. Be with me. I’m scared and I need you. Mold me, craft me, tell me what to do, lead me, Lord. I slowly walk the path I had earlier ran to quickly on. I feel the presence of two large beings on either side of me. I feel safe in this now mildly scary place. He guys. Long time, no feel. Good to feel you again. 

My guardian angels. 

Wow I ran really far. Did I really not realize I was running this far away. My goodness, what is this like ten miles? 

I finally find where I had left my two friends, surprised they were still there and hadn't walked back to the bonfire. My guy friend stands and hugs me, seeing that something has just happened, he holds me tight. I’m in such shock I can't even lift my arms to hug him back. My girlfriend just stands with her back to us looking off into the city lights. She doesn't hug me. 

He asks if I'm good now and I say no. 

Because I wasn't good, but I wasn't numb anymore and there was no way of explaining that to him. 

I look over to my girlfriend and we begin walking, wanting to share with her my experience I am barely able to get the words out

“I heard Him.” 

“Who?”

I simply motion to the sky. 

“God? That’s cool.” 

Not really the reaction I was expecting. I half hoped she would jump up and down and be filled with the Holy Spirit and want to hear all the details of my experience with God. But not everyone is who you hope them to be. I say to my guy-friend, “I just needed a moment.” “I understand.” 

But do you really? Will you ever? 

My girlfriend starts telling me a brief summary of what they were talking about while I was gone and rambles about some jokes and what not. As we walk down the hill we find some more wood panels to burn for the bonfire and carry them down.

 Wow I ran really far. This brush is a lot taller when you're just walking not leaping through it. Are we still not back yet. 

We finally get back to the party, just in time to add to the dying fire. My other friends have already gone through most of the beer and half of the fireball and all of whatever else they brought. As I stand by the fire, my friend who likes me more than just a friend comes over and stands by me, asking again if I was alright. 

He’s kind and caring but we will never be together. No matter how kind he is, we don't see eye-to-eye about God and a few other things. 

So I briefly tell him what I can about what happened on the hill. He seems to sort of understand. I guess there’s no way to fully understand what I had gone through. There really is no way anyone will be fully capable of understanding that feeling until they feel it themselves. 

The utter fear and inability to move from the slightest, most gentle and barely a whisper from God.

I don't feel numb anymore. 

In fact, I feel a little different than I did before. Like a patch of skin where you've scraped your knee and the scab had already come and gone. It’s a little discolored and gives a different texture. There’s now a story behind that specific piece of skin. My heart seems to feel like that piece of skin. 

But what now? 

God knows what I do now.

Step by step, day by day. 

I don't expect to feel this way forever. I will always go through stages of life where I feel numb and will need to be reminded of who God is and just how big He really is. Sometimes it takes the scraping fall to know how to stand. 

The whole world seems to be in turmoil these days. I should become the next dictator.

If I was President I would be a dictator. 

I would demand the absolute and utter submission to me as I rule with an iron fist.

The demands and standards I would require would be strict and strongly enforced.

First, if by any means, one person fails to show kindness to their neighbor, no matter how annoying or terrible one may think of them, they will be strictly taken by law enforcement and will be forced to spend 24 hours in a closed room with such neighbor and confront their issues and discuss solutions to their disagreements.

Secondly, everyone is required to garden. There should be a permanent stain of soil in the creases of every hand and foot. Anyone who does not abide by the law requiring them to garden and be outdoors in the sunshine, will be forced to spend a week in the wilderness living off the land and connecting to nature. The minimum amount of time spent each day outdoors is  at very minimum 2 hours. A day spent 10 out of 12 hours outdoors in highly recommended. 

Thirdly, every single human being, animal, living creature, animated or not, must love. There is absolutely no exception for this law. Love will rule all. Before one judges, they must first love. Before one speaks, they must first love. Before any and every action, one must ALWAYS consider how they can continue with love as their guide. 

Fourthly, violence is unacceptable. For anyone who enacts violence of ANY kind will be immediately forced to sit in a closed room by themselves and will be forced to contemplate the real issue causing them to become violent. If this first stage of punishment fails to accomplish the cleansing of such violence, a second, more severe action will take place. This punishment is only in the most severe conditions and only considered after a court rule in which I will ALWAYS be present for. This act of punishment will require the person of violence to sit in a chair, cuffed and secure, they will then be scolded directly in their face, calmly and sternly by my mother. She will scare the violence straight out of such person. 

Fifthly, if a person senses themselves on the verge of violence, they will be interviewed and given one of two options. If in such case, the act of violence is caused by the acts of another person, refer to the first law. If however the act of violence is a repercussion from a life tragedy or terrible sorrow/loss, they will be immediately taken to a room where they will be given a second set of two options. The first being a tea and chat session with a councilor and the second option being to be placed in a room full of big fluffy white pillows. They will then be allowed to release their tension causing violence on the pillows. If this "pillow" treatment fails to release the person of such desires of violence, they will then be sent back to the councilor for tea and chat time to talk about the true causes for their violent feelings. 

I will rule all with the bible in my right hand the the most highly trained committee to the left of me. With such unit behind me, I will rule until the day I die.

I am your dictator, Summer Hughes, the leader who massacred pillows, not people.