Inconsistent

Sometimes I'm not there for people like I wish I could be. People just need to know that God loves them, you know? People just need something to hold on to. I hate it when I can't be all I want to be. But God can. He is. Oh, I get so lost in thoughts like these. Today will be a great day--mercies new every morning :)

Finding Inspiration

In an honest, sort of sing-songy way of looking at things...

Tonight, I remembered what I want. I miss being so ambitious, yet so free and so honest with the world as it looks back at me. I try too hard to be like everyone else. We really all want the same thing, in some form or another. We all have dreams. 

I just want to grow old and fall in love. To never have enough money because I'm giving it and I'm using it. I want to work hard for the things I have, but I want to SEE things. I want to GO places. Can I find someone who will be crazy like me, but better? Sometimes it feels like you're only born half of you, and you're not made complete until you find that other half of your person. But that's not all I want in life. I really want to change something. If and when I teach, I'll hopefully be changing at least one child's life...every once in a while, if I'm lucky. But I want to change something else, too. Something big, that comes and finds me and steals me away. And I want to dream forever, and never get enough of life. Lately, I'm laying around like I've had enough life for a while. But for some strange reason, I feel again like I used to. And all I want to do is write the day away with these silly nonsensical words, travel and change things, hike through mountainous terrain and fall down at night into the arms of someone I love.

My dreams in life really aren't that hard to accomplish. I guess more than anything I should just start by finding a better job.

Jumbled Different Loves

(I want to make something big out of my life.)

Steady, steady, breaths come in so deep,

Reaching out for what is out there unknown.

Ready, so ready, your hand would I keep,

Had our past not been a chance we'd just blown.

The world is my bridge and I'm crossing it.

My mind is made up and I'm tossing it.

Tossing this penny, it's heads high or tails up.

You call the shots, let me know when You're ready.

Wishing I could hear you, wishing see you so soon,

Holding my heart still, thoughts be steady.

Breaths come in shallow and I swallow what's gone.

Love too far away cannot hold us.

I'd forgotten love deeper and bigger than mine,

There is Love only above that would scold us.

Such a heavy hard word,

Breaths in, and breaths out.

Swallow fear, embrace doubt.

Love reaches out,

And it takes me.

Time Spent Thinking

I'm at the in-between stage of life again, reaching toward sadness and trying so hard not to let go of what I've got.  I get used to things so quickly, and they turn around and...I don't know how to explain what I mean.  School doesn't start again for me until the 26th, which means these next few weeks really won't be all that easy for me.  Almost all of my friends at home will be gone by Friday, back at school and back at the lives they've started up where they've gone.  And I'll sit here missing my old friends, waiting on my new friends, and hanging out with my family in the meantime... And you know, this isn't really a bad life.  I love my life so much and I am so blessed, in so many ways--sometimes I just talk myself out of how good I have it, and sometimes I really know how to put myself down.  I've begun to realize that if I have too much time by myself, I start becoming really unhealthy.  I mean, I've always thought of marriage as this really binding and scary thing that I'll never quite have the balls to do...but I swear if I don't get married I think I might die of lonesome.  I've become so dependent on other people.  And I don't care what anyone says, people need to be my life.

The past week or two I have really struggled about whether or not I am making the right choice when it comes to my career.  I tell people Elementary School Teacher, and get a whatever response.  I tell people Elementary ESL teacher and get another thing entirely.  I know it shouldn't be this way, but it is.  People think I could do more, and yes sometimes I think maybe I should be doing more.  But I honestly don't think what you do as a career really defines who you are. My 9-5 job isn't going to be the only way I change the world, and I'm set on changing something.  People don't realize that this is an amazing job for what I love--kids, and books, and writing, and language--and this is also an amazing job for being able to do so much more.  The obvious is yes, it'd be great if I want to have kids.  Who knows that now?  But it's also great for writing on the side, traveling in the summer, translating for those who need it, and serving and volunteering in so many other ways.  What you do for a living does NOT make you who you are.  I may earn just barely enough to pay the bills with this job, but it's what I want.  I think my face lights up when I tell people about ESL.  And I don't give a shit if they don't respect that.  Who better for this job than me?  And who's to judge me for my decision?  This job can and will take me anywhere, and this job is just a part of my life.  Who I am when doing the job is what matters, not what the job will do for me. 

Breaking It In

I've been searching for a while now, looking for a spot where I can really place my thoughts and have them kept there to look back at me. I used to be in this awful, but wonderful, habit of talking to myself on paper, through words. In high school, as far away as that seems, I had gotten so good at it.  But writing is one of the friend's I abandoned when I went away to college.  It's like one of those things you tuck away in boxes and put them on shelves that are too high to reach, until you forget how much it meant to you, until it's like that thing is not even there at all.  But it's like I've been living just underneath that shelf and I keep having to look at this box every single day...until I finally just gave up, got on the ladder, and got this old part of me back out.  I love writing too much to ever really stop.  My passion of words encompasses me, and it makes me want to learn all of them, in every language I can.

I've never been much on messy rooms, but it seems that lately I've abandoned the habit of cleanliness as well.  My clothes are scattered about the floor, as are the thoughts in my mind-- thrown about wildly and carelessly, seeking out direction.  Instead of cleaning my room the other day, I took every picture down off my walls, waited a couple hours, and put all the pictures back up, in different places.  I don't really know what kind of person that makes me, especially sense I only live in this room about four months out of the year.  Oh, how I love and miss school.  I love coming back home, because going away always makes coming back home that much more extraordinary, but I really love it at school.  I love sharing a room with someone, and hardly ever being by myself.  And to think I used to be so independent...

Well, my words tonight aren't really coming together with much purpose...at all.  But mostly, I wanted to break this page in and tear it up some.  Pages aren't meant to be blank, with so many things coming and going in and out of our wonderfully awkward and beautifully broken lives, I just like to scribble some of it down on paper sometimes.  Tonight was one of those times.  I hope I remain genuine and true and consistent in all of this.

I'm tired of dreaming of falling in love. 

Moreover, I'd rather just do it.

Tired of waiting and searching, being someone I'm not.

When really, there should be nothing to it.

How impatient my patience runs thin,

How exhausted all our attempts have become.

Love is what we give each other each day,

But to this special type I sit dumbly numb.

I am a little child in my hopes and my dreams

And elementary are the best of my rhymes.

Greatness is something I may not achieve,

Not even in the days of my prime.

My name will never be known through the world;

Renowned fame never played in my dreams.

I have no desire to be the world's business,

I like my life simple, as it seems.

Glory belongs to him better than me,

A hero's life is not who I've been.

I've done nothing dashing or deserving of pride.

I am not of the strongest nor wisest of men.

A penny to my name may be all that I have,

(We should only take each what we need)

And so wealth does not my name here define,

I have kept no place for such greed.

The life of the party will stand across my room,

That one is seldom who I'm known to be.

Shy and reserved in a much crowded scene,

From a distance, the silent me you will see.

I am but too small in a world far too big,

Where the things I don't have are what matter.

Where greed, wealth, and fame are always what count,

Chasing my dreams away-- see them scatter.

But these parts I don't have I'm learning to trust,

As they make up the rest of my whole.

I am so different...so frail yet alive.

Better than a commercialized world cares to know.

There are dreams just as simple and common as mine,

All daring to live our own way.

It might not mean much to you or to them,

But life's more worth keeping with each day.

The little things of life are really what matter, 

And it's a skill just to make them all count.

I might not be anything people dream to be,

But those things aren't all what life is about.