eyes are tired; body is alive--

caffiene intake past eight pm is not a good idea

babysitting certain people's children makes me never want to procreate

my future home will be furnished and decorated mainly by thrift stores

theology, contemplating the arts, and human relationships makes my head spin

i have a terribly horrible habbit of never getting sleep the night before i have an exam

(but by God's grace, some kind of ability to usually do well, regardless)

yes. okay. goodnight.

(photo: adam howard)

double-standard?//idontcare

i know i say i don't like contrived things, but...

i'm definitely planning on making memories in this dress.




















(i know it is white. i know it is plain. but if you knew how it came about and were in my shoes, you would love it, too. i haven't even worn it outside of the store and i do believe it has already won my affection above all my other garments. it is a feast of joy every time i look at it and is a treasure to hold in my hands. not because of what it is but what it contains - like an old worn hankercheif your grandma wore constantly when she was your age, or a tattered, nearly falling apart handwritten note your beloved penned on binder paper... it doesn't matter what it looks like; it is the meaning infused within every square inch of its composition. that is what makes it precious. that is what makes the tears leak every time you remember its story.)





You have been the beauty in the song i sing
the fragrance of the rain

it's two 'o clock your time; midnight mine
and i could die to have you here.

thisistoolong

ever since i was a small, blonde-haired, pigtail-headed grammar school girl, i have said that "God is a big part of my life!" and exclaimed it with joy, knowing that it set me apart from my second grade peers. even when we still attended the mormon church, with its boring teachers and lifeless songs, i was able to say this. i knew i believed in God. i even "knew" (said) i loved him. but when we came out of the mormon church as my mother declared "this does not teach the word of God", i thought, "uh-oh" and followed her to our new home: shoreline community church. the difference here, though, is that Jesus is the way for me to get to heaven and i can't be good enough on my own, and even though i'm pretty good at looking like i have it all together, me and Jesus know that ain't the case. and so i understood. so i thought.

fast-forward now to eighth grade: where my classmates teased me for saying "oh my gosh" instead of the other, mocked me for not knowing the crude jokes on mad tv or understanding the sexual innuendos infused within every conversation. why, they'd ask me?
"God is the biggest part of my life, and i obey Him."
"BAHAHAHAHA."
tears.
i'd had it. i'd had enough. on my way home from school one day with my t-shirt drenched and my nose stuffed, serving as evidence for my horrible day, i declared to my mother:
"i don't want to go to carmel anymore. i want to go to monterey bay christian with heather and robyn and people who love God too. i hate this."

and my wise but caring mother, knowing that it was much more likely that i desired to go to place where i would not get teased rather than wanted solid fellowship (i honestly had no idea even what that was, yet), she said:
"megan, finish out the year. you're almost graduation. we'll look for a Christian highschool for next year. but you don't want to swtich schools right at the end, trust me. your'e almost done. God will get you through."

and she was right, because by the end of the year when everyone found out i was leaving, i didn't want to leave anymore (you get much sympathy from the ones who didn't care that you existed before when your'e now the one getting all the attention).
and when asked why?
"God is the biggest part of my life."
this i knew.
and so, though the tears once caused by these people were now flowing because i had to leave them, i found myself at calvary chapel high school my freshman year.

that year came as a shock.
i was no longer the innocent blonde girl who didn't understand anything regarding the world around me - i was the crazy girl who had (gasp!) went to a public middle school.
but other than that, i was just like every body else (at least it seemed).
christian? check.
christian parents? check.
christian music? check.
good grades? check.
happy most of the time? check.
don't swear? check.
don't drink, smoke, chew, or run with the ones that do? checkcheckcheckcheck.

suddenly, i wanted to be back in the place where i was different because God was the biggest part of my life. even though i got teased for it.
(thegrassisalwaysgreener...)

so i made my identity in something else - i started rebelling in the way i knew how:
stop being the innocent girl.

some of the checks on my list got erased, and i was happy about it. i started lying, hanging out with the wrong people, being much too physically involved with my boyfriend at the time, and yet i still thought i was fine.

"God is the biggest part of my life."

but i was miserable.

i wanted to go back.

so my mom said, okay. wait a year. if you still want to go back, you can.

since i said "God is the biggest part of my life"
i wanted it to be His decision.
so i prayed - barely - but i did pray.

"God, you are the biggest part of my life. show me where i should go. i can tell the ones who don't know you about you if i go back - but if i stay here, i'm just like everyone else. but show me what you want. amen."


he did.


he showed me where i'd been wrong.

but he didn't just show me where i should go to high school.

he showed me how i should live my life.


entering my sophomore year of highschool and following a series of life-shattering events for a fifteen year old, God broke me, picked me up, and held me in His hands nearly simultaneously. it was then that He showed me where i had gone wrong in my whole life. God does not want to be a part of my life. He does not want a big, or even the biggest part of my heart. He wants it all. and so my eyes were opened, my knees were bent. i stopped putting my idenity in what i said about God depending on those around me and my circumstances, and put my identity in God Himself.

as a result, i changed not only my thinking and phraseology, but my actions as well.
God was no longer a part of my life, a big part of my life, or even the biggest part of my life.
God was my life - and, on second thought - let me say, Christ.
Christ is my life.
understanding that both my Heavenly Father and my Savior Jesus Christ are God, when i didn't have time to explain that to an inquisitive stranger, it made much more sense to say,
"i live for Jesus" rather than "i live for God" - as that is what my old friends back at the LDS church believed they could say, too.

now i knew better.



i still know better.


but here is the problem i have faced as of late:

i believe that i have slipped down back into the mediocre "God is a big part of my life" that i declared as an ignorant gradeschooler. i wear the badge of a biblical counseling major and know all of the Christian terms, but i think of God much more than i talk to Him.

i have the right answers about God, but i don't apply them to my life.

i know the priorities found in scritpure, but i don't let them affect me in the use of my time.

i believe i am a wretched sinner, but when i look at the world i still think:
"i am doing pretty well."


all too often, i want to look like the girls i see in hollywood more than i want to conform to the image of Christ.



because all too often, He is not my life.





and this is why i am miserable.

i have decided

that when i "grow up"
and own my own house
with my own husband
with my own bedroom and walls and nights
that it must also come accompanied with
a fan: in the middle of the room
(on the ceiling)

--this is now a requirement.

so that when we turn
out the lights
and pull the darkness over our eyes
i will have the same familiar hum
i had growing up
at my grandma'shouse
her gigantuan spanish-style, terra-cotta-colored roof home in the middle of nowhere in clovis, california
which reminds me of the summer days and long nights and drives into the heat
eventually coming to find refuge in her castle-like abode

(the shaking fan directly above my feet which, to me, at eight years old could come crashing down and smother me any instant!)
which eventually became a sense of comfort for me
and
i have decided
that this will be carried with me
into my (soonerthanlater) future.

i know i let on that i don't miss you.
i think fear that if i do, i am somehow showing weakness.
giving into emotion.
and that emotion will be too overwhelming when you leave.
i don't want to cling to you.
and i think it is this that i am running from.

running, far away - running like a madwoman from any possibility of my heart being intwined with another man whose body i am not also intwined with as one (with a ring on my finger and a bed of our own and pictures of memories lining the walls of our home)

i don't want to be there again, and yet --
i think i desire this kind of intimacy
(in the emotional sense)
more than i would like to admit.



i think i have a faulty view
(one that is more tainted by culture than scripture)
of what relationships are supposed to look like.

i'm sorry

but tonight i didn't want to hear about numbers and facts and plans and planes and calendars (i just wanted to hear your heart).

can you blame me for that?

i caught a glimpse

of myself in the mirror tonight
and it was odd -
like i was watching someone that wasn't me
sitting cross-legged on a bed that isn't mine
(truly, it isn't)
listening to music borrowed from another
and stealing a script in time where
the next expected scene takes:
someone sitting beside me
or maybe strwen across the floor
so comfortable and casual
so belonged and meant(tobe)

but that scene
--never came.
and i was alone
and have been
in the same room
for the last three hours
ever since.

EDIT://PROOF

(this picture was taken the same night i wrote this.
either directly before, or after.
i forget which.)

this song

is beautiful in more ways than one.


and it reminds me of someone i know.
(or used to know?)


(past+present, not all of it is relevant now. she is alive.)


she's a song unsung, she's the wild orchid in your ugly swamp. she's a song unsung and the only white walls of her mind know what that song sounds like. the pills, the pills, and the doctor's promises just ain't doing the trick, cause the arms of nothing she falls asleep in can still bring the razor to the wrist. the tv screens, the magazines scream at you like the dogs of hell - advertising and advising you to be anyone but your beautiful self. prince charming never brought you flowers, just loveless lifetime alone. no roses for you, just unlocked doors and the deafening silence of your phone. so block your ears, close your eyes; remember that you're a golden soul fallen from the boring, heartless hollywood heard of lies that they call "beautiful"

with no shoulder, no hand, no body, no man, no door, no heart to let you -- the sun can take too long to end the endless night; i hear you, i feel you, i bleed with you when our hearts begin to scream: "this life can feel too long" but at night, you're dancing through the pain even when you're the only one. no rose, no sky as full of the beauty of the girl who dies, but rises with every morning's sun alone. she dances alone, alone -- so beautiful. alone -- her own romance; alone -- lady lazarus' life-sustaining dance.






hanging out with mark tonight was rad.
and i really missed sushi.

muzak

really affects me.
it's kind of scary.

i wish more Christian bands didn't suck.

i want to make music with someone that i really look up to, musically and spiritually.
(but that is hard to find.)

girl or guy, i don't care.

someone who will tell me when i'm not really on top of things - both musically and spiritually.

i kind of had that with dom, but then i left for school, and then he left the church (shoreline), and then went and got married to someone he knew for two months. and now we haven't spoken in three.
awesome.

i teven texted tj today to see if he liked the band stars, because i am so desperate to try to play their songs right now. luke and i were supposed to do a cover of elevator love letter, but he ditched me that night for trey's movie premiere (which i also wasn't told about) and then i had a show to go to the next night and then he left. so that died.

anyway.
i am not as creative as i wish i were. however, then comes the damning question i am bound to ask myself: why do i even desire to be more creative? for my own glory? satisfaction? self-gratification? the praise of people and the admiration of others around me? so i can catagorize myself with a certain subculture or give me a feeling of identity? or is it truly for the benefit of others and the glory of God? i live for the latter much less than i would like to admit. so it is probabaly a good thing i am not good at guitar or singing or poetry or writing music; i might become very pretentious and self-absorbed. mhmm.

it's probabaly one of the reasons i sometimes feel intimidated or judged by james - but he isn't intimidating or judgemental at all; i am just jealous that he seems to be somehow free from all of this - he isn't consumed with culture or what is popular for two seconds. he is just himself. sure, everyone is influenced by things and people around them - but for him, it doesn't automatically change if someone thinks it's cool or not. i know that's one of the things that attracted me to him initially. he reminded me of who i was before. how free i felt. what is sad, though, is that i don't know if i still feel that freedom anymore. but it is my own fault. and it needs to change. i want to find out who i really am - but not in a "finding myself" sort of way - i want to know who He made me to be. because that is all that really matters, anyway.


i think i might make this blog private again because i'm starting to just write and write and not stop, so if you want to still read my worthless mini-novels and misgivings, give me your email so i can add you to the readers. i may or may not do this, but just in case.

alright. homework now.



p.s.
i get to hang out with mark in santa monica tonight. i'm stoked. thankyou Jesus. please pray i will be a good witness. yes.

today

was a good day. i think.
aside from the fact that i had to shovel five hundred dollars out of my own pocket for school (and that's only half of ONE class), and that babysitting four insane kids (two with autism) breaks my heart and makes me never want to have kids at the same time...
it was good.

james and i have been texting all day; i only called him once (and i think it was mostly to get pity from him that i had to pay the school so ridiculously much for one stupid class - to which i was answered with: "well, that's how i felt when i bought my PS3." seriously?!? anyway...)
we have been talking about different issues of semi-touchy subjects. and it's been really good. really healthy for us i think. it started with me asking him if he'd break up with me if i ever smoked a cigarette. i already knew the obvious answer, but i guess i wanted a confirmation to make me really start thinking if a few minutes of enjoyment were truly worth losing both him and my witness to many people (as i wouldn't lie when asked if i have or not). so, as lauren said in her text, when she gets back "or we'll both go up to my favorite spot and i can smoke and you can watch me. :)" ...indeed.

i'm really liking it here at her house. i might have already mentioned that, but i do. it is so peaceful. no one is loud or really even tries to talk to me. sure, i get lonely sometimes, but not here. it's usually when i'm running (driving) around town and just wish i had someone to accompany me. someone to share the day with. anyone. james obviously comes to mind first: he loves going to stores with me. and while i've been frustrated with his desire to walk around walmart just for the hell of it at times (usually because i'm insanely busy), right now i would love that more than anything. i have come to the conclusion that even the most beautiful places, the most breathtaking scenery, are still empty if there is no one to share it with. an acquaintance, a lover, a stranger - anyone. too bad i am so shy; i might try to make a friend or two while i'm out here on my own. i honestly cannot remember the last time i spent so much time by myself. it truly is odd. i guess this is why people end up in bars and drunk and in stranger's beds.
it's starting to make sense to me now, i think.


anyway, i was going to write about all of the things james and i discussed tonight but honestly now i don't even really feel like it. whatever, i'll give a brief overview: smoking, tattoos, friendships with the opposite sex when married, and... i think that's it. it was good. we hold mostly the same views, more or less - well, maybe not on the tattoo thing, as i'd really like to still get some more. but i think it's good that i don't. he keeps me in check. i love the two that i have, but who knows if i'll regret the others? although i secretly (or not so secretly, as i'm pretty open about it) think he would look amazing with a sleeve. which apparently is the only way he'll ever do it - "one and dones look lame on guys." ?!? i have no idea where that term came from, but sure. whatever you say, darling.

post-session is not going to be as insanely intense as i thought. for that i am so so glad. sosososo glad. it would be, were i taking two courses, but then i would also be broke. as i kind of already am. but i guess that's another reason that the babysitting is a blessing - it's the only way i'm paying for this crap. (forget the fact that i'm helping a needy family, pssh). gah. why can't i be truly selfless? if i had the opportunity to babysit for free, for another family in desperate need, would i? or why does it have to be desperate? would i do so just out of love for Christ? i have before in the past but i think i am so used to getting paid that i really fear i would hesistate. i don't know how it is possible that my view of God can shrink so much over time - it's honestly scary. i can see now how i can be a practical athiest when i want to. it's truly horrible.


i'm going to finish cleaning up the remnants of my unpacking before i go to sleep. and before i go to sleep, i am going to get my head straight. and the only way to do that is to meditate on truth. search it out. let it soak it. it's sad how much i rely on my major to get me in the Word. so sad. but not tonight, like last night. hence the reason i am thankful for people in my life like the ones previously mentioned. i love you (both).






p.s. i miss all the salinas hardcore kids.
steve has started talking to me out of the blue and excitedly telling me about his girlfriend and mark came back to LA last night, so i want to hang out soon. but really, i miss them all. ritchey, charlie, steve, scooba, ariel, jayjay, mark, even devlin and siggy though they drive me insane. even ariel's mom although she actually is insane. also, angie has been hitting me up on every social networking site i have, and apparently wants to hang out, though we've never done so apart from shows and her house with adrian and the boys - which she moved out of. which is probabaly a good thing. but that is a different story. i bet she thinks i'm cool now or something because i've been listening to the smiths. haha. or maybe not. i just hope i can be a good witness to her - she claims christianity but doesn't agree with all of the bible, which obviously equals not real christianity. so. God may be giving me an opportunity there. we'll see. two and a half more weeks. home. we'll see.

but seriously.

i want to love these people like He does.

i fail at that 99% of the time.

please pray i get better.

thanks.




-m.

dear lauren

i am writing this because you are probabaly asleep right now so i cannot text you and the only one that reads this blog that i know of anyway and there are a few things i want to say to you.

one. i miss your writing.
two. i miss your face.
three. i miss your smell. even though it is lurking in hidden corners and secret drawers of this bedroom, the fact that there is not a lauren to accompany it creates an odd oxymoron of comfort and loneliness.
four. thank you for last night. you are a God-send, my sister in Christ, and right now, for about one million reasons, my best friend.
five. i can't wait to see you again.



and six: today, for some reason, i really really had the urge to smoke. a vanilla cigarello. or actually i think it started last night. isn't that odd?? i have no idea where it came from. i haven't even smelled one since october of two thousand and seven when my friend thomas was smoking one in hollywood. thomas is now married and i haven't spoken to him in two years. and i haven't smelled a vanilla cigarello since. but i really wanted to smoke one tonight, out of the blue. i also wanted to go tagging. graffiti i mean. i think i might have spelled that wrong. but anyway. again, i don't know why. maybe because my friend diana has been showing me amazing street art and we were supposed to hang out yesterday but then something sad happened and she couldn't, which is understandable. but i really wanted to go take pictures of it anyway, but i couldn't stand to go by myself. it was bad enough going to jet rag and buffalo exchange by myself today, but i had to. i needed to get rid of clothes. but all the while i just wished that you were there with me. i'm serious. and i was babysitting tonight and didn't have time to tell you all of this so i had to write it down when i got back, which i just did. all i had time to do was send you that little text message, which i did. and later, after i got into your room, i was organizing my clothes and found your cannon rebel box in there and i thought of the fact that you have that great camera with you, and all i have is my cheap digital, but it is good enough for now, but that i really wish we could go take pictures again. of each other. and maybe next time, i will actually take a drag of your cigarette. maybe. :)


or. maybe i just wanted to live for experience, too - just for tonight, but i didn't.
and i think i can wait until you come back, anyway.
i guess, possibly, maybe that's what happens when you miss someone... you just go crazy, and feel as if you would do things you would never dream of doing otherwise.


anyway.
regardless.
i love you.


eph. 3:14-21
(you have prayed this for me so much lately and i pray it right back to you.)


okay, goodnight.

show tonight

mae = not that amazing
barcelona = solid but not my taste
personL = gay name but incredible musicians


seriously though, they were. i actually stood with my mouth wide open for a few songs. i haven't been that impressed with a band in a long, long while. they were fun and comfortable on stage but weren't annoying. they were confident but not over-pretentious. and they were talented. oh my word. they had two drummers - but not two drums sets - they used a lot of other random percussiony instruments. and this one guy mesmerized me. he was standing and drumming on a floor drum and then every once in a while shaking a tamborine so fast i could barely track with my eyes. he was tall, scrawny, with poofy dirty-blonde hair. and all i could think of this whole time was:

http://www.youtube.com/v/5Mum6ggkBJs

(see crazy guy banging drum to the right)





okay.goodnight. my wonderful boyfriend who paid for the whole thing took me back so i could get some sleep, not write. yep.

images from my life as of late

sometimes

sometimes i fear that we really have nothing to talk about.

sometimes i might not be in love with you, but i do know that i love you.

sometimes i wish you would just let your imagingation
run wild with me.


my dear, you are so grounded.
stable, rational, realistic.
isn't that supposed to be a good thing?

ghost story

been telling myself that it passes in time
that the words they erode as the lights go dim.
and in times there will be peace,
and that times will erase
and that times can break you down.
held hostage by the past.
held hostage by those days.
and you want to escape
and you want to remain
here.

please dont let me forget.
living in this disconnect.

there are times that we connect in the space
left empty by the words
that we never exchanged,
and you never heard.
those words we simply felt.
been breaking yourself;
you've been counting on time
and time takes so much to believe in.
wish me luck, let me remember.

please don't let me forget.
living in this disconnect.

and it scares me to death to know that
one day i won't be haunted by your ghost
(stay with me)

that one day i'll lay awake and
struggle to remember a face
(stay with me)

and it will be lost; i'll breathe,
remembering that i won't remember anything
(stay with me)

it never stops it never stops it never stops it never.