Memories Monday

if you would have asked me at 16 or 17 years old what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer would have came effortlessly – “A Writer”
This dream and aspiration isn’t really so simply any more, it’s not really something I desire to pursue. Its amazing how our views, ideas and perspective of the world changes as we grow older and funny how somethings don’t seem to change at all. I remember xanga, I remember the first site I had – I was 15 and I felt the need to get my words out there, demanding to be heard. I developed a little following, my writings were quite dark and poetry followed from all the pain of my very existence. I had it for three years, and I had enough, it was like I was screaming out to a resounding void of nothingness and I truly felt alone. I stayed away from xanga until I was twenty – I was changed, I was older, maybe a little bit wiser and began again, a new site, a new name, a new writing status. It became my dumping ground, every emotion, thought pain, it became my writing space. Since xanga disbanded – I just found no reason for writing again. I feel like I no longer have the urge to demand to be heard, because I have nothing to really say. So I write here occasionally, and I will continue to, as I am inspired or have the urge to splatter myself across the pages. But to be honest, I feel like I am lost in the world of wordpress – I feel like another nameless, faceless person writing of my angst, my love, my joy, my longings, my fears, my anxieties, my insecurities, my frustrations and my everything.
I dont regret not becoming a writer, I love what I do – I grew up and just like everything changes, so did my dreams and aspirations for life and I have no regret. I could still become a writer on the side, I know many who have, but I don’t think my story is one that needs to be read by many, I mean I am online, I could be read by thousands in one day, but I am not. Granted I have never shared my story to the full extent on here, and I don’t believe I ever will. My love of words have dimmed slightly, and I don’t read as much as I wish I would or wish I had time for.

Some previous writings

Sometimes the beauty is in the attempt
we fail, we try, we fail, we try, we fail…
we get back up, yet again, and try yet again, even if we fail
even if failing is the final nail in the coffin of all the attempts
at least I tried, and there is something beautiful in that
sometimes the beauty is in the attempt
that thought leaves me content in the failing,
because at least I tried
and attempted the impossible
and that’s beautiful
that’s beauty in the attempt

The warmth of your smile
oh how I miss that smile
your smile sent warmness sensation all throughout my body
your smile had the same effect of a hot cup of coffee, only better
how I miss your smile
the smile that would steal my breath away
oh that smile
that smile stole hearts from miles away
oh that wonderful smile
I remember the day that smile went away
my heart broke, along with many others
oh how I really do miss that smile
that smile was so contagious,
that people couldn’t help but to smile and laugh,
even if they were angry at you
it was such a beautiful smile
until that smile went away
Where are you smile?
Why did you leave?
Oh, how I miss that smile so,
you had such a marvelous smile
until that smile went away, and it won’t be coming back another day
oh how I miss your smile!

Do you know this man?
He is an amazing man
you have to meet him!
do you know him?
He is quite a wonderful man…
you see… this man
well; he saved my life, countless times…
I never understood why
this man… rescued me numerous times
from extremely dangerous and hostile situations
he is like my own personal superman
only he is so much better and so much more than superman
do you know this man?
I met him for the first time when I was a little girl,
but I didn’t understand who he really was and what he was all about
you see I thought he wanted something from me, I thought he was just saving me so in the end I could be his slave, just another robot…
but I was so, so incredible wrong
this man is so much better than any other man
he didn’t want anything in return
he just loved me
do you know this man?
I know it sounds crazy…
but when I met him again years later, as a scared, confused, lonely 18 year old girl
I understood
I saw the kindness in his eyes.
the depth of his loving soul
I saw the scars
I understood the pain he went through, so I knew he would stand me
I heard the compassion in voice when he spoke my name
the way he held his arms out in a loving embrace, like a father would to a child
I pushed this man away for so many years, because I didn’t really know him, I didn’t want to know, I was too angry at him, for stupid reason really
but I was tired of pushing him away, tired of running away from him, tried of lying to myself, tired of denying my love for him
so I ran straight into his loving, forgiving arms
and my life has never been the same
nor will ever be as it was before again
so I must ask you one last time, please let this sink in a little more:
do you know this man?
Because I do
and I think you should really consider getting to know him as well…
it’s worth it… I promise
it’s worth it all

The unforeseen chaos of the world
battles wagging
wars are coming
the chaos of love and forgiveness
of revenge and regret
the violence of the soul
the anger and raging seas of emotions
the emptiness
the longing
the pain
the sorrow and the regret
the feelings of love and emptiness
two worlds collide
yours and mine
this is the soul of another
in the absence of a lover
a lover whose love is so fierce, so jealous, so violent
that the earth shakes and trembles under the weight of it all
its too much to bear, too much to withstand
the crushing of remorse
there is just too much in this course
in this wretched life, where there is nothing left
nothing but you and me
yours and mine
our worlds collide

I am drowning in my own thoughts
choking on my words as I try to speak through the tears
wishing you were here
where were you all those years
when you still had the chance
to be the man you never were or ever could be
punching my fist against the pillow
wishing I had the strength to move on
the will to understand
to break the confusion and chaos
the mess you left behind
the hurt you caused
the promises you left undone
the empty words left unsaid
the brokenness you passed on
you were never that great of a father
you failed me
you failed all of us
but just same
I loved you
despite all of it
despite all of your nonsense
and your hurt
you were still my father
and I loved you
you were my best friend
it was just a shame, that in the end
as always…
I could never count on you
to be there…
when I needed you the most

Despite it all the thoughts and words that nag at my soul and stir the strings of my heart: “Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.” Hosea 6