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Love Song

This is so beautiful.

I always loved the song.

But the music video is surreal and enchanting.

Her dresses are exquisite.

He is really, really good looking.

And their chemistry is very real.

And it's a great story and happy.... unlike the real Romeo and Juliet.

Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5wRkoGKQ8qQ

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Another End and Another Beginning

So the school year is coming to a painful ending.

I will really miss Seth and Grant, even though my feelings about them flip-flop quite a bit.

The responsibility of a real job, SATS, college analysis, harder classes, being a leader in my school, etc. will soon set in.

To be continued...

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The Real

I've known this song by Nevertheless for some time, but I looked up the lyrics and was shocked at how well they captured where I am spiritually, right now. I hope it encourages you, as it did me. "Here I am tonight. I can't stand to fight this feeling of despair I hide. I wonder are you there sometimes. (Sometimes we all wonder). This is you; this is me. This is who we're meant to be. We are the real, but the truth is unchanging. This is a call to hearts that are fading. So it is sometimes, that I feel this life is far beyond repair, but I know that you are there tonight. (Tonight I won't give up). This is you; this is me. This is who we're meant to be. We are the real, but the truth is unchanging. This is a call to hearts that are fading. Keep on breathing. Don't you let this take you down. Don't stop believing. This is you; this is me. This is who we're meant to be. We are the real, but the truth is unchanging. This is a call to hearts that are fading."

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Reflections of Myself (a self portrait I wrote for English class)

With the new morning He let himself Open her door Once again. The new sun tried in vain To grip the room. Now cold, now dark. Forever void of Joy. The silence, too, Was painfully unnatural. Where laughter and song had thrived, Now nothing... The flow of deep poetry, cutting thoughts, and nostalgic letters Was now an unreplenishable puddle. Her hidden emotions: sympathy, sensitivity, and compassion, Forever covered in a sheen of unreachable coldness. Though traces of her creative spirit's last breaths Still littered the room, The chess pieces would fall off the lamp, The pictures, paintings, and drawings Would soon fade, yellow, and die,too. Her inspirations might still excite others, But never her again. Her sacred, hidden treasures' Secret significance would soon be forgotten. Her worn Bible lay open to Psalms. Would they remember the reason for her passion, Her heartfelt striving at obedience, Respect, faith, virtue, and wisdom? (She was) a quiet friend... Who sincerely cared and appreciated, But never had the words, just awkwardness. Her music... Though they might listen, Would they hear beyond and through? See with its limpid windows? See the world, Not as an oyster, But a child, A twisted, tortured child. Love... As if the world depended on it? Because it does. Have the courage she didn't? And who would care For her discarded dreams: Those scorned and misunderstood teens In a youth shelter in Seattle?

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The Agony of Love and Loss

I once wrote, "We want to be able to live impulsively and strike up an intimate relationship with complete strangers. We hate the silent guessing- biding our time to avoid pain. Either way we get hurt. So should we lay our hearts bare and allow them to be tread on or silently stew- let hidden love grow deep- then silently quake in pain? In scripted stories the former ends in happiness, but in real life? In reality we opt for the second. I guess some end up happy. But many become dark poets with bruised eyes and crippled hearts... like me. I wish I could be so impulsive but I dread the paralyzing pain." That was three months ago. And again, here I sit asking myself the question. Is the chance at love worth the risk of pain? I usually follow my shy nature- prefer the quit pain to the public pain. Looking back, my path is strewn with corpses of myself I've killed for guys I no longer care for. Was it better that I hurt only myself and no one ever knew? So here again, I contemplate my latest crush. He seems different, somehow specialer. But don't they all at first? His smile seems amazing. But don't I always think that? I don't care about his nondescript clothes (that is unusual). I have yet to notice his shoes (something I usually look at in a guy, but when I do remember to look at his feet, he's barefoot). I think I like him for just what (I think) he is- his music, voice, passion for God. I want to talk to him, get to know, ask him questions.... So here I am... I choose....?

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