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| the WORST music ever written to the BEST album lyrics
they are all but one completely unlistenable to but every line shoots straight to the heart..
can they redo this whole album?? what a complete waste of good words.
:(
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| yesterday i had to clench my bible to sleep.. i suppose it was the only true + living consolation that promised to keep me close to God and soak away the hurt.
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| "He will sit as a refiner and a purifier of silver;
He will purify the sons of Levi,
and purge them as gold and silver,
That they may offer to the LORD
an offering in righteousness"
Malachi 3:3
set me free to run with you
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| "...I come away from the film being sure that both of them were extreme fanatics, but also being sure that it would have been difficult to significantly impact that climate of appalling deprivation and exploitation without being something of a lunatic. They needed the kind of blind passion that would drive them through every kind of opposition, from being physically abused in the streets to being charged in the courts with pimping. They needed the kind of determination that would take one look at the hundreds of thousands in abject misery and still not give up and go home..."
http://www.24-7prayer.com/features/1110
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| [this is a long and boring post and not for the faint-hearted]
hi.
it's friday again and even though i look forward to doing absolutely nothing on fridays- it frees me and i allow myself to do whatever i feel like, in the scope of spending time with God- i feel like i'm just taking a break from doing nothing. a break from a week underaccomplished.
maybe it's because everyone's lives are so crazy and busy that i feel there's something wrong with my life.
i started my life out here 3 yrs ago with the same mentality: work part-time, keep myself free, because things are gonna come and i wanna have time to do them. and things will get busy.
like cove red. gig seasons seem to come in spurts, like 3 weekends in a row and then nothing for a month. in jan we might have 3 days in a row. yeah, i'm supposed to be practicing but that doesn't feel like work. at least i don't get paid to practice.
maybe i should be getting a job-job. my friends talk about work and work procedures, politics at work etc. and i'm left wondering what i'm 'missing out' being self-employed and all. maybe i should be- well i know i should be, writing. but i have no writing assignment so everything's up to me to create and go out there to market myself. the problem with this is that u need to write to get assigned. before the other way round happens. also with the intention of building a grad sch admissions portfolio. i am also not trying hard enough. there are too many fun things to do like finding songs for gigs and practicing guitar so that i don't have to invent new chords for every new song we play + forget em a week later.
that happened for rach's songs. mistakes, love + water, dreamer.. they were all made-up chords + finger-sequences and i never knew what i was really playing esp cuz they were all capoed.
so when i came bk from june hols i lost all of my bearings for those songs.
on thurs i tried to make a video of myself playing patrick watson. even with a mic directly above my head it was difficult being heard above the noise of the lousy camera (esp since it was 12am). i wondered how the guys on youtube manage to sing loud enough and why their cameras aren't lousy like mine.
on tuesday i exchanged songs with cheryl. on thursday i watched my sister's keeper with ave. on wednesday i just spent all this time waiting for the rain to stop so i could go and buy strings for stripey. his G breaks always. i felt naked with a G-less guitar. that sounds kinda weird. maybe it's like having a disabled friend or losing a mode of communication.
yeah. there are just too many things to do.
---
and then, my sister's keeper totally wiped me out. it made me feel like i had alot of things to deal with that i haven't been able to. it made me feel like there was much more to say and feel about death than i have or we have together as a family.
i keep wondering when that will come. on november 17ths we sometimes exchange emails and do our own little memorial things separately. but never all together ever since i moved out in 2001. sometimes i look at old photo albums and try so hard to remember what it was like with a dad around, because it's so hard to recall. i was in my i-want-to-get-away-from-my-family teenage years when he died and before i knew it, it was too late to try and be close. quick death, no mercy, no slowly deteriorating cancer-stricken body that gave you time to say sorry and thankyou and do all those things to shower your love on that person before he goes. hm i just cried weirdly here. maybe that was it. that i never got a chance to love on my dad. the way that i now know best. i never knew, was never mature enough, was always a withdrawn kid.
orphan-like-hood permeates my days, everyday without me really noticing- i got used to it. but it shows up in my thinking and behavioral patterns, the way i am terribly aware of not belonging, the way the way i choose to hide from families and not really wanting to be included. maybe that's why i spend so much time with Dad, alone and away from everybody.
i am praying that my bro will know what a father really is like before he enters army. i wonder if army can kill your idea of a dad.
though i hardly think about him, i have occasional dreams... surfacing hidden wisps of wishes or perhaps regret. usually they have this ominous tang to them, that he's come back to spend the day with us, but at dusk we'll have to let him go. so there's always a happy-sad tension to it. one of those consisted of him touring my old school (sn). i kept trying to keep up with him. like one moment he would disappear round the corner and i would race to keep him in sight. it was a bit scary. he would always look a bit distant + translucent.
the most recent one i had of him, all of our relatives were in the school canteen (what's with my dreams all in sn.. 11 yrs of my life there i guess) and were upset with him b/c he wanted to eat fish from the seafood stall (there is no seafood stall..). they said because his stomach was weak (which brings to mind a very unpleasant memory of him puking over the edge of the boat.. i think that was scary to 8-yr-old me b/c if he wasn't strong, who would be?), he was going to get 'gill disease'. and he was being all stubborn about it. that was weird.
the best solid feeling i've had in a dream with him was me, him and i think sf, clinging very tightly together and running down a hill. one of those sound-of-music hills sf wants to live on. it felt as if it was something i needed. but it was very brief and i don't know the rest of it..
not that cancer is a great way to die, either.
my grandma passed on that way and the worst thing was not knowing how to handle it. i just sat around for 6 weeks expecting her to go any day but she kept surviving.. i didn't know how to communicate well and didn't really know what to do. i got tired of visiting her and slacked off; before i knew it i got a call early one morning.. i didn't cry at all. only when i talked to sf on the phone and we could reminisce a little together did i feel like crying. fond memories of her only surface in the context of childhood. i felt bad for not feeling as sad for her as the occasion warranted.
so what constitutes having grieved? when does it stop?
i handled papa's death pretty 'well' back in '00 so i thought i was doing ok. then it became evident that the truth was, i didn't know how to grieve. nobody taught me. i didn't know you had to be taught to grieve, either. a 'big break' came in '07 when i met jane who counselled me; a divinely appointed meeting. it surfaced that i needed to forgive him and God for things that i didn't know i could be angry at them for. for leaving me, although it wasn't his fault. that God took him away, even though i didn't blame Him.
i had been pretty good about not blaming God. i was good at coming up with good things to say and feel about the situation. like, painless death, and the fact that he was already working overseas so there was already a distance, which eased the pain of separation. the fact that i had a good father, a privilege much of the world's population doesn't have a chance in its lifetime. i wasn't trying to explain anything away. it was all true and comforting. i was giving myself perspective. somehow though, perhaps that took away my ability to grieve more fully. does that make sense?
after that counselling session, stuff still comes up from time to time, hinting at unhealed wounds. like yesterday, and today. maybe they're revealed bit by bit over several years.. maybe it never stops.
i could launch into stuff about capital d dad + meeting in heaven rite now but let's just leave it at here for today.. i need the afternoon to feel.
<3 missing you
your little girl
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