[wait]

And so I'm told.

I'm told to be content,

to wait,

to stay,

to learn,

to wait...wait...wait.

And if I don't want to?

What am I told then?

"Wait."

Of course.

But these stirrings inside me, these feelings I can't escape, don't want to escape,

they stay.

They're waiting too.

For what?

For something to happen? To break through? 

It feels like some days they might. They'll break this barrier that seems to get thinner every day.

They're like a drug. 

All consuming.

All my desires, all my passions, all my dreams, all my everything,

they all are controlled by these...feelings.

"Wait."

And if I can't? Emotionally, mentally, physically can't?

"Wait."

At these words the stirrings rage. They wrap themselves into a fierce roar. A groaning desire.

A storm.

Raging, wrecking, plundering...till I can't hold on. I can't see, I can't hear, I can't do anything.

Except.

Wait.

And so I'm told.

Why is waiting so hard? Why does it seem that when you're waiting, the world seems to grow dimmer, more dull and time seems to slam on the breaks? Patience is something I've never really had a problem with. I was always so good at waiting my turn at the water fountain, waiting for the bathroom, waiting for my carpool, waiting for my finger paints to dry, waiting for the popcorn in the microwave. I was the best at waiting...when I was a child. When I was young, waiting was a concept I could wrap my head around. Now it's a struggle I must face everyday. Waiting for things I never thought my heart would desire so strongly. It does turn into a storm. A storm of confusion and chaos that will drive me insane if i let it have it's way. I need a calm to this storm.

Yet, I do. I have the Great Storm Calmer Himself. He's on my side. Waiting with me. Only difference is He knows what I'm waiting for, what it'll look like when I get it, how I'll get it, when, where, why. But my part is to wait. Yeah. It sucks. It really does.

But.

I've been promised, blessed, placed. And that will, nay, must suffice.

"This life will have an end game, a final day, one last breath, but that's not what we focus on. We focus on the journey and how we grow, learn and live." 

[fame]

If I were to be honest, which why wouldn't I be?, I would have to say that when I look at my life up to this point, I'm not happy with it. Let me explain before it is assumed I am emo and hate life. This isn't one of those "my life sucks" sites mentioned earlier. What I mean is that in comparison to all the given exciting life experiences that are on display for all to see, my life is bor-ring. There are people going on adventures all over the world, people discovering new ideas and ways of thinking, people having the time of their lives with the person they love the most, people finding the true meaning of life in some forest somewhere, people who are famous...

Yup. That's the most potent. Fame. There are people in movies, television shows, Broadway shows. Case and point, there are people living the life I know is mine to live. This fact has crept into my mind many a times throughout my short life, but it's hit full force now. Never in my life have I been so numb to my current life situation, constantly wishing there was something coming to make it better. Never have I wanted so badly to escape at all costs and simply go off and start a new, exciting life. Yes, sure, there are aspects of my life I would keep the same, friends, family, personality, etc. Anything that I love would stay, but things like the school routine, busy schedules, pointless classes, and this feeling of always waiting would have to go.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for what? I have no idea, but I know there are exciting things out there, I've seen them, I've had a taste of some of them, and those tastes acted like a drug, a drug that was extremely addicting. I'm a fame addict. I get my kicks from bits of fame, chances to shine, opportunities to draw attention to myself. It makes me feel empty if I don't get it, and when I do, life seems to have purpose. Purpose only fame can bring.

Wait...

[insert the filter]

Fame. Pride. The two are linked so strongly, my mind would have to be ripped if they were to be separated. It's impossible for me to have one without the other. Fame automatically leads to my head growing to thirteen times its normal size, and pride cannot breathe without some form of attention being directed my way. Is there anything wrong with fame? No. But when I'm relying my joy solely on whether or not people are watching me in awe, I think I have a problem. Though here's another problem: I'm being told everyday that my first problem isn't really a problem at all, it's a weakness. "How can you reach fame without the sacrifice of everything for it? You won't go anywhere unless you get over this 'guilt' about getting to the top."


So what is my joy? Or what should it be? That's the question I face every millisecond of every single day...or so it seems. And I'm not dumb. On the contrary, I consider myself to be quite smart. I know what the answer to those two questions are. Yet, here's yet another problem: It's a struggle to care. Horrible right? Seriously? You don't care? What does that even mean 'I don't care'? Honest once again, I don't know.

I was recently told by a good friend that this feeling of complete apathy would ruin me. Literally ruin me. My life, my happiness, my everything. And it's true. But then how does it stop? What can make me suddenly change my attitude, flip the happy switch, make myself feel great about where I find myself in life right now? I know the answer to that too.

For I know the plans I have for you...plans for good and not disaster, to give you a future and a hope


At those words something amazing happens. Peace. It's as if the ragging storm, tossing me, breaking me, making me feel miserable suddenly stops. Just like that. Peace. It's a thing I'll never understand. How quickly it comes, how quickly it works, how long it lasts, and how its a promise. A promise that won't ever be broken.

So yes. The fame addiction will never go away, I'm beyond sure of that fact. I'll never stop wanting more attention to make me happy. I won't always feel great about what I'm doing. I won't stop asking 'why the heck?'. But here's the glorious thing: If you think about it, I've got eternal fame to look forwards to. I'm still looking forwards to something, but at least this fame will mean something.

[poem]

Stop. 

That rush of power.

Energy.

Coursing.

Making blood surge,

boil,

turn to acid.

Like a poison.

Drives to madness.

Frustration turns to a cold, cold anger.

Icy thoughts, frigid desires.

Body locks up,

frozen.

Expressionless.

Have to unthaw,

can’t show the cold

no matter how much…

Reverse the process,

let the ice melt,

boil,

surge,

course,

energize,

power,

rush,

done.

Resume. 

[chills]

“…created for a place I’ve never known…”

As I hear these lyrics to a song off the Prince Caspian soundtrack, I am remined of two things:

1) How much I love the Chronicles of Narnia and all in entails, and

2) How much I long for my new home.

“…and now, after all my searching, after all my questions, I’m going to call it home. I’ve got a brand new mindset, I can finally see the sunset, I’m going to call it home…”

If you stop to think about it, about how this world is simply temporary and a new world lies ahead of us in an unknown space of time, things seem to fade away around you. Or at least you get that chilled awed feeling that makes you yearn for something you can’t have. Like for this new world. At least that’s what I feel.

I sometimes feel this feeling so much that I start to cry. Manly right? But when I then think about why I feel this way, it all makes sense why I would yearn for something so much as to reach the point of tears. I wasn’t created for this world. No one was. With the exemption of two people in the very beginning, but their world was nothing like what we live in. Their world was beautiful. Beautiful to the point that God himself could walk around in it. I like to think of the original earth as a “heaven-on-earth” type of place. I mean if God’s first home was among the angels, his vacation home could be next to his two human creations, right?

The Garden of Eden was the perfect place. But of course the two human creations didn’t stay there. They messed up, they sinned, they broke the harmony, they diminished the beauty. From then on the world’s just been spinning around and spiraling down.

But I’m going back. I’m going back to the place that I’m allowed access into only by the blood of the Perfect Lamb. Because of His sacrifice I get to reenter that perfect place that I was created for. A place where all my desires will be filled, my needs will be met, and my worship, my questions, my talents, my passions will all be accepted and finally be in place where they can express themselves in the way they were meant to be expressed. Crazy to think about? It should be. This type of place is foreign to us. No place like this exists…on earth that is. One day I’ll go back to the harmony, the beauty, the perfection. My home is there. My family is there. My Father is there.

Waiting for me. 

[fictional life]

I still find myself hiding in closets hoping to find Narnia, where I’ll defeat a witch, team up with beavers and minotaurs and end up king with my siblings along side a Lion.

I still catch myself gazing longingly to the night sky hoping that Pan will come swooping down and I’ll zoom off to Neverland where I’ll save a girl and her brothers and battle the guy with the dysfunctional hand.

I still notice myself pondering about what it would be like to have super powers and be extraordinary as I show off to all my friends and some sort of drama ensues, but all wraps up nicely as I save the day and get the girl of my dreams.

I still have to watch myself when I come across holes in the ground, because every fiber of my being wants to fall down then and stumble into Wonderland where I’ll have tea with a rabbit and a madman and then slay a Jabberwocky.

I still am surprised at myself when I come across a large, spooky house that my gut instinct is to go inside and make friends with the resident ghost and solve the mystery while being chased by evil ghouls and what not.

I still wish that when I see a ship in a textbook, I was sailing on some great adventure where buried treasure lies in a cove guarded by bloodthirsty pirates and a mighty sea dragon.

I still hope that when I see a shooting star, the wish that I make will come true and the tiny cricket will sing a song and all my dreams come true.

I obviously still despreatly want to escape reality.

I now know why fiction writers became so popular. 

[first post]

Blogging. Yup. 

Thanks to the invention of the world wide web, blogging, along with many, many other things have become available to the general public and if I'm not mistaken, blogging is one of the most popular of past times for individuals between the ages of 16 and 28. Ok, I don't know if thats fact, but it sounds right. Topics of these blogs could be one of thousands including, but not limited to: college, high school drama, news reports, forced school assignments, interior decorating tips, cooking, skydiving, travel, life on a farm, life in the city, life in general, "my life sucks", cats and their habits, playwriting, rock climbing, stalkers stalking people, movie critiques, burn sites, memorial sites, "i-just-met-you-and-i'm-sure-we're-in-love" sites, german things, antiques and what not, etc. The list, like I implied, could go on and on.

So what makes me different? What makes me think I have something important to put out there for other blogging individuals to potentially read and mock? Well...I'm not sure. I used to think bloggers were simply those types who couldn't stand to not have their opinions heard by someone other than the pizza guy or the banker on Tuesdays. But now I've seen plenty of examples of people who aren't deathly annoying who do in fact blog. Shock. So here I am, about to join the ranks of those over-opinionated people who have that dire need to share their lives. And why shouldn't we? Why shouldn't we have the right to display our thoughts all over this great wide world web and see what happens? Who knows really what could happen. Maybe something great like connection in an isolated world. The worst that could happen is that no one cares. Here's hoping that doesn't happen.

So enjoy. Laugh. Cry. Feel excited, motivated, discouraged, angry, deeply depressed, maybe even encouraged, and hopefully see something you didn't before courtesy a la my mind.

I'll just be here. Blogging. Walking through just another day.