scream.

There are moments... when the world is quiet, and nothing moves... you look around, and you're completely and utterly, alone.

most of the time, when I am literally alone, I don't always feel it. And then there are times when I am figuratively alone. Those are the times I feel it the most.

It could just be a bad day, something lost in translation, or not even translated at all. Or it could just be all in my head.

Its a feeling that comes when you realize that the feelings that you have will never be reciprocated, and your the only one in the world it seems that knows whats going on in your head. When everything you thought you knew is wrong, and everything you wished would be wrong, is right. Everything spins and nothing makes sense, and then we scream because we want SOMEONE to hear us.

Its a selfish feeling. The realization, that even God has other people to love. And that you, don't have anyone.

To Move Mountains

Tonight I arrived 15 minutes early to mass, and after a chat with a little girl from the children's choir as we waited in line for the bathroom, I sat down in the pew, listening to the sound of music from the loft, and reading the Sunday readings.

I sat there for a while, just thinking and enjoying the music. As the children's choir began to leave with their parents, I watched the small girl from the bathroom walk past me to the exit of the church, pulling on her sweater and walking briskly in front of her father. I watched as the girl stepped up to the tabernacle and knelt to pray, bowing her head and closing her eyes. Then after making the sign of the cross, she exited the church, carefully dipping her finger in the bowl to get some holy water. Her father, did nothing but walk out.

It made me sad to see this. The innocence and faith of the young has always inspired me, but what happened to the enthusiasm of the old?

As I watched them leave I vowed never to let myself get to that point, never to forget the importance of my faith, and the meaning it holds in my life now. I never want to lose that peace of mind that comes with knowing Christ is always with you, and everything that comes with that. I realized though, that I do forget, all the time. If it wasn't for God's little reminders, the moments of peace before mass, or the sound of children singing, and little chats in the line for the bathroom, then we would all just forget, and let chaos rule our lives 24 hours of the day.

Earlier today, I had sunk right back into my crazy hectic life. After a weekend of escape, nothing in the real world had changed, and I was thrust back into stress and work, without any rest. I remember thinking for a brief moment when my mind was not otherwise preoccupied, that it did not seem fair to have to jump right back into chaos, as if nothing had changed, while my heart was so different. It was like I was wrenched away from my peace with God, and put straight back into the fray of humanity.

But for that one moment before mass I was all right. I was back there, I was happy and peaceful. Even if it was just for that one moment. It was as if God was giving me this peace, to remind me that everything I do, I do it for those moments, no matter how small. And that I do it, so that other people can experience it as well, and find the happiness and peace that can only be found in his arms.

I need these moments to survive, these reminders to keep living and breathing for him, and him alone. If I didn't have them, I would probably end up just like that girl's father, who sees no meaning in entering a church, or passing the blessed sacrament on his way out.

I want the innocence of a child, every minute of the day, the simplistic life that allows you to follow blindly. Only children have the capacity to have faith that can move mountains, because their minds are never filled with doubts about what they are taught. It's in those peaceful moments I am brought back to my childhood, and it's those moments that keep me focused on God.

when hearts are green...

I feel as though I should write a post....

but I'm just so tired.

and there are no words to describe what I feel.

Only God can make a girl who never stops talking, speechless.

The Nightmare of Ourselves

Its Halloween, and do you know what I just did? I watched the shining for the first time in my life. Bad idea. Although now I understand why people like to walk around wagging their pointer finger saying "redrum" in a creepy voice, regardless, I was scared shitless. Let me rephrase... I AM scared shitless. And now I can't sleep.

Why is it that people love Halloween so much? I have always wondered why it was that this holiday holds a certain intrigue for most people, one that I cannot say I have ever shared. Sure its fun to pretend, to dress up as something you're not that you have always wished to be, and pretend that you don't really want to be an Avatar, or a stripper cop, but that its Halloween and so its okay that you are.

But the real reason in my mind is the concept of fear. It's a thrill for people to scare themselves so badly that they can't leave the covers, but why?

Its because fear is physical. Its not a feeling you just have in your gut, or an emotion that makes you cry. You feel it in your very soul, it rips at your insides and pounds at your heart. People seek fear because, maybe, they just want to feel alive. If just for that one moment, you can actually feel your heart beating, its almost like you know that you're still there, that you still matter. That you can still feel something and your heart is racing and your hands are sweaty and all of a sudden you're aware of your breathing.

There are few emotions that can give you this feeling. Maybe its because we're always searching for answers about life, that we forget sometimes to live in the moment, and it is only then that we truly live. We look at our schedules and follow our clocks so often, that when something creeps up from behind to scare us, it jolts us awake, reminding us that we're not robots.

I think maybe thats why I seek fear. Why I have been waiting for something to show me that I'm not a walking statue. Sometimes I think I lose myself along the way, I forget the importance of love and compassion, and just a sense of where I belong. Sometimes I go so long without that physical feeling of emotion, the one that tears at your heart with a searing pain that cannot be described, that I wonder for a moment if I will ever be able to feel it again. That maybe, these thoughts in my head are merely automatic, devoid of emotion, and bordering on the mechanical. But then something comes along to jolt me awake, hit my heart, and make me feel it.

Its the physical emotion that keeps people guessing, keeps people searching. And when you have the fortunate moment where you discover it, hold onto it a little while, listen to your heartbeat, and remember for a second who you are and try to live up to that. Maybe Halloween isn't such a bad holiday. We all need a little scare now and then.

Anyways, Happy Halloween.

And the world ends.

Today, we ran out of decaf coffee.

Normally decaffienated is not the most popular kind of coffee, and why it even exists stumps me to this day. the point of coffee is to keep you awake, so why would you take out the very ingredient that makes that possible?

But rules about coffee aside, having run out the same day a guest at my work just happened to be wantin' some decaf, I was in for major attitude control.

Its the same thing every day over and over. I'm sorry I can't do anything about the fact that there is no restroom closer to your auditorium. I know the prices are high, but I can't change them. I understand you just bought that starbucks mocha latte frapp something or other, but we have a strict no outside food and drink policy.

Today, I was the girl who ran out of decaf coffee.

Every time one of these issues arises, I get someone else griping about the unfairness of it all and wondering why the world does not revolve around them. And today, when I said, I am so sorry we don't have anymore decaf I got the same look. A restrained anger and want to lash out, because someone was going to pay. And the thing that we always seem to forget, is that those people that usually do are the ones around us, who whether we believe it or not, have nothing to do with why we didn't get our way.

We have become so spoiled and consumed with ourselves that we feel a constant need to complain about everything that isn't a part of our "plan". We forget so often that sometimes, things...just...happen. And most of the time we have no control over those things. And neither does anyone else.

Whenever I encounter someone who seems to believe that if they yell and complain enough it will somehow make them justified, I have to stop myself from instinctively wishing bad karma on them. And every time I don't get what I want, I have to take a minute to breathe and refrain myself from complaining to the person behind the counter, who is only attempting to do their job.

My manager once said, that everyone should work in a customer service job, because the world would be such a nicer place. This is true, but sad. Why do people have to experience unkindness, before they can learn to be kind? It is a paradox that makes no sense yet is an aspect of the human nature that we can never escape from. Its a lesson we all need to learn, some more than others, but a universal lesson all the same. How we choose to live, with kindness or without is entirely up to us.

The world would be a nicer place if we could all just get along. But if that were the case, what would be the point of being able to smile at someone and say, "Have a good day", and know that even though they are walking away without any decaf coffee, they will take your words to heart, and maybe just maybe... it will make them smile.

Florence, Italy

Throw me into the chaos of something new...

Picking up the pieces

Everyday we pick up the pieces of our mistakes.

Today, I was picking up broken glass. Literally.

Because I got into another car accident. Luckily both parties are not harmed and there is not major damage to my already scratched up car, and surprisingly I was not at fault this time. I don't want to get into details, but it was a bad day.

Another phone call home, the same words again, the same tears and the same answers. It seems like every mistake that puts me back a step is the same one I am always making over and over, and I can't shake it. Its like my gaurdian angel doesn't even want to sit in a car with me, so he's not even there when I'm driving. And with every mistake, my life falls apart again.

So much so, that I've become accustomed to picking up those pieces, whether their metaphorical, or literal pieces of glass.

But today I learned something. It was the in the concern of my friends, who worried about me, hugged me, made me smile, or listened to me talk. It was in the concern of my parents, and the way they jumped up ready to fix this new problem without a second thought, or a word of anger or frustration. It was in the "Don't worry too much about it" and the "Are you okay?" s from everyone I love. It was in the cop who watched me cry and said, "tell your parents that they call it an accident for a reason..."

In all of this I saw that I didn't have to pick up the broken glass by myself. That there will always be people around who, when life shatters, stop what their doing to help you reassemble yourself. Why we do this we will never know. Only God knows why it is that our capacity to love is much greater than we could ever imagine. We as human beings are flawed, imperfect, and blemished... But we as humans beings can love with compassion, strength, beauty, and perfection. It is this agape that makes us turn around when we hear glass shatter. It makes us forget what we were thinking about if only for a moment, to pick up a piece and hand it back to someone who dropped it.

I am forever grateful to everyone who picks up my pieces, and they don't have to be told that I fall apart often. I think that's why they're always looking out for the next sign of an accident, whether its in a car, or somewhere else, keeping an eye on me in case they have to catch me. I hope they know the love they have shown me does not go unnoticed, but it is instead locked away deep in my heart, waiting to help if anyone else needs help picking up their broken glass.