And So It Goes.

Papa took us to the library for the first time since 11th grade yesterday; I was in ecstasy. It was made better by a tall, Webster-reminiscent man wandering around the aisles with his small son. I think I have a problem.

So last night I read Sisters in Sanity by Gayle Forman; it wasn't bad. I really wanted music afterwards, though. I can't seem to get enough of it, again. Today I read The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank for the first time. I'm glad I didn't read it until now - now I feel like I understand her. Although she was fourteen at the end of the diary, her thoughts are much more self-aware than mine usually are. I suppose it was her circumstances, but it was also in her character, as well.

I am such a child so much of the time. Even now, as my parents trust me more and more and more, I want to fall back into grass forts of my childhood, make a time capsule from an effervescent bubble, and stay suspened between adulthood and toddlerdom for at least two more years.

One year isn't nearly enough to fold my flesh and bones over everything I love. One more year, and I must become responsible and efficient. I dread it; I look forward to it. This is similar to my feelings on marriage and all that it entails.

I didn't mean for this to become whatever it is.
I wanted to tell a story of how, after a whole summer of nearly ignoring the piano, I learned one of my assigned songs in 30 minutes, did passably well on my finger excercises, and didn't completely fail the chords and scales.
I wanted to mention the amazing tea cookies (half butter, half sugar, basically) that I love to make almost as much as I love to eat.
I was going to say that I have a small glowing story idea inside the center of my heart, ready to be bitten into in November for NaNoWriMo.

The heart wants what it wants, though.

Dream - Priscilla Ahn
Reasons to Love You - Meiko
Gravel Lines - Amy Seeley
The Show - Lenka
Missed the Boat - Modest Mouse
Cape Town - The Young Veins

A New Post.

Here I am, listening to music and enjoying the general feel of autumn...my hoodie stash is expanded by two, made of the softest, gentlest hoodie material I've ever felt. Tea every morning is a perfect start to my day (not that it ever wasn't, but now it is appropriate). Leaves are growing into their golds and reds, and the wind nips at me every now and then. It's not as fierce as winter, not as easy-going as summer, and crisper than spring: it's my favorite.

So this is a good, good time. I am loving every thing about this time of my life: all my fears and insecurities, all my failures and shortcomings, all my strengths and talents, all my features and personality quirks - they all culminate into a girl who is not so grown up as to be blind to the magic behind every blade of grass, not so childish as to be hurt by every insensitivity of the grown-ups.

Forgive me, pretty baby, but I always take the Long Way Home.

It feels strange to be falling into techno; it feels right to be falling into techno. BEATBEATBEATS carried along by a thin voice echoing, fading into dim sparkles: it feels like I've been heading this way for a long, long time. It feels like home.

Why all this ambiguity. Why do I procrastinate and cause myself needless stress. Why must I be different.

Ah, I take that back. I like my differences. They are useful, and normalacy is safe, but overrated. However, I want the procrastination to stop. Techno still makes my head hurt, but I like it. The ambiguity is fine for a little while, but eventually I have to de-fog my perspective.

I have been thinking that love alone is not enough for life. I am beginning to saturate my days with God, and my worldview is changing, little by little. Sometimes I'm afraid. Somedays I blank out and miss every oppurtunity sent my way. Often I have no clue what to say, or what to write, or what to do. LIES. I always know what to do; there are some kind of invisible shackles keeping me tied to the book, or to the nonsense scribblings, or to simple inactivity. And so an area of my life is turned into a complicated mess.

Then, I take stock of the situation. It's not life-threatening, or life-changing. It's just another dent in my character: something to let the Lord work on.

I like saying the Lord better than God. It's softer. Holier? More reverential.

I still think banjos are the sexiest instrument ever. That will never change, even as I do.

In the moonlight, in the daylight

Struggle to get on

And you know me, understand me

You will make me strong

You will make me strong

You will make me strong

Look at me, here I am

Reaching for your arms again

I saw the hurt and all the pain

And get back on my feet

Hear you sighing through the crying

I am not alone

Cause he see me, want to be me

Melancholy so

Melancholy so

Dez, Nove, Oito, Sete, Seis, Cinco, Quatro, Três, Dois, Um

There is no fear, there is peace here

I have found a home

Look at me, here I am

(I am strong, I'm not alone)

I am Strong - Tiesto (feat. Priscilla Ahn)

Filling up.

I feel crazy! Posting comments without fully thinking through the repercussions of opinion and reputation on Facebook! Unheard of! But this is how it goes when all the excitement and expectation, coupled with an incredible weekend charged with God and beauty and friends and bonding, explodes into a new devotional life and a new life in general.

Persevering through the first day of the dreaded senior year, praying and feeling God moving so close to me, and striving for patience with my family - but it's good! Great!

And it will continue. I am determined, desperate, for it to continue.

Three Things.

Getting back into baking... Alexa and I went to IKEA and also FiveBelow and Pier 1, and I bought a chocolate cookbook. All I did after coming home that evening was salivate over the pictures - a picture for every recipe!! I was stoked. I am stoked. In fact, I am extremely stoked, having just devoured enough chocolate to feed a small African country.

Which is why I am on the internet, after a five-day hiatus. Feels good! Actually not really. I am getting into an internet rut, lurking mostly on Facebook and my various comic websites. Getting back into Deviantart after a five-month hiatus. Getting back into a lot of things, actually.

Feels good, like I said. I need this: this chocolate and anonymous friendships. Lots of things don't feel good at all right now.

1. Growing up. It's painful. I watched The Breakfast Club for the first time ever (OH MY GOSH. It's one of my favorites now.) and the black-haired girl who hooks up with Emilio Estevez said, "When you grow up, your heart dies." Oh man. Why does that feel so true? I know it's not, not completely at least, but LORD, it feels like it.

2. Opening my mind. Also painful. I like my pre-conceived notions and letting go of them is incredibly difficult. My fingernails are dug in deep, man. These new horizons are like razors, cutting me to the bone.

3. Softening my heart. Painful. I've been building walls around my heart quietly, peacefully, unknowingly, and now that they're coming down, I feel so naked and vulnerable. I mean, missing someone isn't just occasionally thinking of them once in a while - it's a day-to-day reminder that they're not here today and it's piercingly painful.

Ah well. That's how life is, isn't it? Painful? But pain forces us to grow. That's what I know, and it's really all I've been repeating to myself all day. It's working...but I think the chocolate worked better.

Anyway. Goodnight, my non-existent readers. Thanks for sticking with me through these past couple years.