Blood.

I was trying to be brave.
I wanted to prove to myself that I could actually do something meaningful.
I was shaking. I was emotional. I was holding back tears.

Now I just feel like an idiot. Of course you can't donate when you've got a cold.

Remember.

The radio sang and I hummed. The light turned green and I turned the wheel.  Suddenly the street elongated as if it was something out of a trippy cartoon. The cars seemed to slow down, or perhaps they were blazing by at the speed of light. I glanced out my rear view window, everything behind me was untouched by what lay in front of me.  The school bus continued to drop off children, the mailman continued to deliver letters.  I peeled my eyes away from the rear view and focused out the windshield.  As if it were out of a movie, all at once the sirens blared, the lights blazed, and the horror filled my mind.  Leaving not even a second to process what was happening I instinctively pulled the car over to the side and allowed the ambulance to roar down the road. All this within a few fleeting breaths, but it changed everything.  I don't know who the ambulance carried, or why they were rushing to the hospital, but it doesn't matter.  It happened. And for all I know, the repercussions of that moment are still being felt, perhaps they will continue to be felt for the rest of this mortal lifetime.  It is a sobering thought.. one moment changes everything.

It bothers me when people do not understand that everything matters. Events matter. People matter. Words matter.  Good and bad, every action bears a consequence. The phrase "time and space is the great healer" really pisses me off.  Probably because I know it's true, but I don't want to wait.  I want the pain to subside now. I wish humans could grasp that memories are real, and intimate, and extremely powerful.  [I'm writing this down because I believe memories carry some sort of emotional baggage and that weight upon the individual is both legitimate and worth exploring.]  The mind is able to remember minor details, able to hide pain from the individual. I do not think this is coincidental. But sometimes pain is triggered by a familiar thought, idea, scent, or scene. Again, I do not think this is coincidental.  There must be a purpose, I just don't know what it is, but I am going to find out.

One moment is all it takes.

and happy freaking september.

I'd Like to Die Moments After You.

Lately when I'm driving I have thoughts that float into my head, but disappear as soon as the light turns green.  So instead of causing a wreck, I think I'll keep track of them here.

why does heartache exist? I guess a better question is: why did evil have to enter the world? why did God see fit to create a perfect world, only to have it messed up? why such brokenness? was He bored? was He simply entertaining angels? just why? ..not that I would like the answer to that question if I ever got one.  I learned that the hard way on December 4th, 2009.  when is God coming back? maybe He really did just create the world and then let it loose. I hate to think He forgot about us, but sometimes I wonder.  what does He think when I'm driving alone and start to cry? is He moved the way I would be if I saw a young woman crying at the wheel?  perhaps it's selfish and naive for me to think God would consider my pain something important. but isn't it only human to want to be heard, and held? to be held. that's an interesting concept.  I want it so badly, in fact I long for it, but I'm so closed. I would love to blame my lack of communication skills on the people who took advantage of me, who hurt me, but I know in my heart of hearts that it isn't their choice to be so guarded, it's mine. at any rate, screw the perverts who cause[d] children pain, and fear, and emptiness. it makes me angry to think about how much hurt is in the world. I want to change it. I have no idea where I'm going, what I should be, who I should become. I'm discovering that life is very unfulfilling when you have no purpose.

Art of War.

some wounds don't heal.

it's been twelve years.

it's been nine years.

it's been six years.

it's been one year.

it's been nine months.