questions

is it possible to want good things for yourself, but to be scared to let them happen? so you actually kind of prevent them from happening? or you try to find everything wrong with a situation, just because [in your experience] good couldn't actually be that good?

yeah. i'm wondering.
aidez-moi, s'il vous plait.

damsel in distress

i cut my finger playing skee ball yesterday.
it was the first game that we were playing for the night, and here i was: bleeding. profusely.
[okay. maybe profusely is an overstatement. but this was no paper cut, ladies and gentlemen.]
it wasn't one of those things i could wipe on the old pair of jeans that i can't seem to get rid of.

as tactfully as i could, i asked where the bathroom was.
[did i mention that i'd met the guy only thirty-four minutes beforehand?]
i tried to stop the bleeding, and
(figuring that fashioning a makeshift paper towel tourniquet would be gross)
decided that asking for a band-aid was my last option.

we waited while there was some drama about a girl wanting a lava lamp at the prize counter.
and we waited.
still waiting.
still bleeding.

once he saw how much blood there was, something magical happened.
he was assertive, interrupting the lava lamp business and making sure i got my band-aid.





[the bleeding stopped.]

"every step that you take could be your biggest mistake.

it could bend.
or it could break.


that's the risk that you take.

what if you should decide
that you don't want me there in your life.
that you don't want me there by your side.

ooh ooh-ooh. that's right.
let's take a breath, jump over the side."

.coldplay

on the art of breakfast and love

i was in and out of sleep during this movie today.
as i was drifting back into nowhere-land, paul varjak spoke these words to holly as he got out of the taxi into the pouring rain.

you know what's wrong with you miss whoever-you-are? you're chicken, you've got no guts. you're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness."

whoa.
it stopped me dead in my mental reverie and slapped me in the face.
i can relate.


i needed this.

our hearts have defense mechanisms.
sometimes of their own accord.
mine has been put into action, and i didn't realize it until today.

revolutionary because i love vulnerability, remember?

de la coeur

the last day of summer i bought a book from the byu bookstore: a book about life and the little things this man wrote to his son when he left home. a tangible object portraying the love that he has for his son and what he wants him to know.

today i read, "don't write down anything you don't want someone else to read."

which made me think of this blog.
and you.

you, readers, few as you may be.
you may be someone that i know. well, perhaps.
someone that i don't know.
someone on facebook who decided to be curious (or brave) and click on my blog's link.
someone who stumbled upon this blog luckily (or fatefully).

and i want to talk to you today. all of you. the friend. the acquaintance. the member of my home ward reading this blog. the stranger. this is what i want you to read.

be brave, and have courage. although you may be atheist, agnostic, or anything in between, i believe in god. i believe in a god who loves us. he loves me personally, and i know he loves you personally. and although you may not believe in god, believe that someone, somewhere, knows that you are being taken care of. that you are being watched over. whether through divine intervention, or through the divine intervention of others. you are loved.

this world is a mess. there's no denying it. but there are people like you out there to show the world that morals and ethics haven't disappeared.

don't doubt yourself. it doesn't get you anywhere. you have more potential than you realize (which is advice that i need to take myself).

we're all going through this existence together. help each other. if there's one thing you take from this post, it's this: love. love those around you. love the woman at the grocery store with the crying 3-year-old who's trying to budget out her food for the week. love the man in the metro who is reading his newspaper. he may very well be going through a divorce or losing a loved one and may need a friendly smile or someone to hold the door for him. you never know.

think of your human existence. you have fears. you have a past, a future, and a present. all of these people do as well and they need my help as well as yours to get through. be there for them. remember.

and that, my friends/acquaintances/strangers, is what i want you to know. what i want you to read. take it how it comes. it's not me being self-righteous, egotistical, persuasive. it's me telling you from the deepest pieces of my soul what i want you to know.

what i want you to know that i know.

quelquefois

sometimes i wonder if my entire life is based upon me waiting to make a decision. and i feel like sometimes it is.

but i also feel like sometimes it doesn't have to be.

like when you're laughing at a wind symphony, watching the bassoonist and the flautist, wondering about the extent of the damage to the inward recesses of your heart, discovering slowly how [it] really affected you, and trying to decide what the next step should be.

that's when you stop. when the music stops. when the laughing stops. when you're pinned in a void of silence. and that's when you decide that decisions don't have to be made. that life drives itself when you give it a chance.

sometimes i feel like that's the best decision to make.

ce soir

although fall's orange signature is already sprawled on the face of the mountains, it wasn't in the air tonight as i stood outside sammy's with sam-i-am. it may have been one of those last nights of summer where the air is no temperature; a happy medium of buoyancy. it felt nice and it still feels nice, coming through my open window.

bubbles were floating down from a parking garage next door while songwriter after songwriter got up and played their hearts.

i realized i don't make myself as vulnerable as i once did.





[i still love vulnerability, though.]

the play count is at 117.

that song i posted earlier.
it is my emotion in tangible form. all of it.
the lyrics, the melody, the simplicity
of the guitar and josh ritter's voice.
it speaks of vulnerability. i told you my obsession with that, right?

this song brings many memories to mind.
every one of those words has a purpose for me. a distinct role that can't be replaced by any other word.

it's perfect.

and i've listened to it 68 times since i purchased it 48 hours ago.
it's like that time that i listened to this song 47 times in 4 days because of the missionary.
or like the time i listened to this song 82 times in 7 days because of wyoming boy.
or like that time i listened to this song 59 times in 3 days because of muslim. i'm listening to it now.

unoriginal title

please listen to and enjoy this song.
i think it's beautiful.
and i feel this song.

Naked as a Window - Josh Ritte...

and because it's only a thirty second clip, here are the lyrics.

How hard for the covers to be pulled from their slumbers,
but a ghost never gives up its sheet.
Tell me, is it the same for the rattling chains or whatever you wear when you sleep?
You remember the time that I told you to take off your clothes?
You were naked as a window.
But I'll take all that nothing over nothing at all.
I'm just a hallway for ceilings and walls, babe
and emptiness all the way through.
You know you're asking too much to be held and not touched,
but somehow that's just what you do.
You remember the time that I told you to take off your clothes?
You were naked as a window
But I'll take all that nothing over nothing at all.
Yeah, I'll take all that nothing over nothing, over nothing at all.

"there must be truth; there must be a wall."

am.big.u.ous [am-big-yoo-uhs] : open to or having several possible meanings or interpretations.

you know, i've been asked why i keep my blog so ambiguous at times.
why there are sometimes only themes and imagery and such that only i will understand.

recently, i've asked myself the same question. people like openness on blogs. people like to read about other peoples' lives. and i won't build myself up saying that you are that interested in my life, because you're probably not...not what i'm getting at. promise.

i once had the privilege of going up to the roof of the "swicket" which is normally closed to students.
i remember watching the small forms of several hundred different people all across campus: coming from the jkb, walking to the esc, exiting the library.

people come and go by us. everyday.

i said, "it amazes me that people have lives of their own. their own fears, likes, dislikes, people they love, disappointments they've faced."
they all had lives of importance to them, just like my life is important to me.

possibly a realization that people make early on, but it never ceases to amaze me.

anyways...i digress...a lot...

why are we fascinated with the details of other peoples' lives? i mean, we have our own lives to live, so why do we feel the need to be involved?
perhaps it's because we have the need to feel connected with other people. to understand that they also know what we are going through. maybe it's an innate feeling of charity: wanting to know about other peoples' lives so we know how to help. i hope that's why

back to the original question: why do i keep my blog ambiguous and very open to one's own interpretation? if i put in more detail, perhaps more people would read, more people would understand so they'd want to read...i don't know.

there's a certain amount of vulnerability that comes with posting every unambiguous detail about life.

i have a secret.
i'm obsessed with vulnerability.
experiencing it? not so much.

i wrote a lyric essay on vulnerability for my creative writing class last semester. we all feel it. we all go through it.

i want to write about the moments in my life, but if i made them understandable, i'd be incredibly vulnerable.

and i don't want to make myself more vulnerable than i already am.
give it some
time...