Not much to say, but so much to think about

I realized tonight that some of my friends kill people for their jobs. I wonder how it must feel. I wonder if they remember each face. I wonder if they are haunted in their dreams. I wonder if some of them actually do enjoy it. I wonder if they just do it because they believe it's the best way to serve their country. I wonder how conflicted the Christians are, how conflicted the non-Christians are. I wonder who it affects the most.

Can they live with it? Knowing that in order to save some families, they need to break others? Why does the world need to be like this? Why did we let it be like this?

Feeling hurts, but not feeling might hurt more

I’ve started to wonder if feeling is worth it. I’ve started to wonder if caring is worth it. It was so much easier when I didn’t feel anything. When everything just happened and I took it. And nothing mattered because I just didn’t care. But it took me almost four years to get out of that, do I really want to go back there? It would be so easy to…but so hard. I don’t want to give up the real feelings that I’ve finally had. But…they’re slowly killing me on the inside, bit by bit, every weekend. Every nasty look, every bad comment. I’m not good enough, I can’t please them, I don’t do things right, I start fights…I start fights when I’m not even there. I’m almost afraid to go back this weekend…

I try. I really do. I want things to be ok. I want us all to get along. But nothings working. And continually I wonder if I’m the problem because things seem to go just fine when I’m not there. And Claire’s still not happy that I’m not living at the house. She brings it up all the time. But she didn’t even want me at the house. They don’t have room for me there. If I was there, I’d be spending the same amount on transport anyway even though she thinks I wouldn’t. And I’d be so much farther from everyone and wouldn’t ever be able to do anything with people.

I feel trapped. If I was in America, if I had the Sable, I’d get in and just leave. Drive two or three hours out, and then come back, like the night I went to Redmond. I wish I had a car just for that. I don’t even care about taking the bus to school or walking places or anything. Just if I could leave anytime I wanted to. That’s it.
I’ve been freaking out and worrying and I know I shouldn’t be :/ I really should start reading my bible again, but I don’t have it. I think it’s still in Dublin…I don’t want to get a new one, because I’ve been through a lot with that one. It was from my mom when I was 11. It’s been through periods of intense study, periods of intense loathing, been thrown against walls in anger, been placed under my pillow for safekeeping. I know it’s just a book and getting another really shouldn’t be that big of a deal and I really shouldn’t be that attached… :/ but I don’t know. There’s also a note from my dad in there that he wrote when I graduated from high school. I think it was the first time that I really believed he was proud of me, because it took a lot more than it should have to get me to graduate. It’s my only copy of that note.

I’m back to the “I’m not good enough” stage where I was before Encounter. I guess there’s a difference between knowing truth and believing it. I’ll convince myself that I am worth it, that people do care and that I am likeable, and everything’s ok. But then I get treated like I’m not and they act like they don’t care and I know that I’m not liked…and suddenly, I start to question again. And each time it hits me deeper. And each time I have to start convincing myself all over again. And each time it gets harder and harder to do so.




Also, I need to tell somebody this, but I don’t want to actually tell someone. It was seven months. That’s the longest it’s ever been. Now I’m back to zero. Well not really. Probably not according to most people. But to me it counts. And to me it’s starting over.


And I was right. I do feel like a failure.

A letter I may never send

I don't know what to say to you. I don't even know how to start. Maybe with a question. What happened to us? What changed? Where did that sweet, sweet boy go? Why are things so different?

I wonder if you know the power you have over me. If you understand how much I would do for you. There was a time when I would have done anything you asked me to. But that's gone. It has to be gone. I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry.

All I ever wanted to do was make you happy. No matter what it was, as long as it made you happy, it made me happy. And then I realized that doing anything to make you happy wasn't making me happy. And then I realized that it wasn't really making you happy either. I can't make you happy. I can't answer all your questions. No matter how much I want to. And it kills me that I can't.

Any little criticism you make...do you know how much it affects me? How much I think on it and think on it and wonder if maybe you're right. If maybe you'll like me better if I change. And then when you say things that hurt, I don't let myself cry. I won't. I refuse to. Because of that stupid little phrase "the one worth crying over is the one who won't make you cry". I've grown to despise that phrase.

I care about you so much. I feel like you know me better than anyone else. I feel like I know you better than anyone else. We've seen each other at our best and at our worst. I don't want to lose your friendship. I don't want to have to say goodbye to you, ever. But things have to change. I know things are hard for you right now, but...that doesn't give you the right to take advantage of people the way you do.

I would have given you anything. I would have given you everything. But not anymore. Because now I can't. Now I know that it wouldn't be good for either of us.

So this is it. This is me stepping back. Because it's not ok. Because...because you just aren't good for me. It's time for me to forget about any hopes or ideas about us being anything more than what we are. It's time to let go.

Psalm 56

1 O God, have mercy on me,
for people are hounding me.
My foes attack me all day long.
2 I am constantly hounded by those who slander me,
and many are boldly attacking me.
3 But when I am afraid,
I will put my trust in you.
4 I praise God for what he has promised.
I trust in God, so why should I be afraid?
What can mere mortals do to me?

5 They are always twisting what I say;
they spend their days plotting to harm me.
6 They come together to spy on me—
watching my every step, eager to kill me.
7 Don’t let them get away with their wickedness;
in your anger, O God, bring them down.

8 You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.

9 My enemies will retreat when I call to you for help.
This I know: God is on my side!
10 I praise God for what he has promised;
Yes, I praise the Lord for what he has promised.
11 I trust in God, so why should I be afraid?
What can mere mortals do to me?

12 I will fulfill my vows to you, O God,
and will offer a sacrifice of thanks for your help.
13 For you have rescued me from death;
you have kept my feet from slipping.
So now I can walk in your presence, O God,
in your life-giving light.


You have collected all my tears in your bottle.

I cried when I read that.

Who will fill my tires?

I feel like a car with slightly flat tires. The car still runs, but the lack of air in the tires is a drain on both the car and the fuel tank. I'm still functioning, but I'm running on a sad type of energy which is slowly draining me to the point of exhaustion. I need to find a way to fill up my tires.

It's interesting how when I leave, I'm always doing ok, but then the minute I set foot out of the train station and back into Coleraine again, everything crashes. It's like a huge block comes down on top of me and squashes me flat. And then it stays there until the next time I leave again. Over time, I gradually get used to it and can grow to ignore it, but it's still there. Is this part of not being content with where I'm at? Or is it something more?

Waiting

I am the kind of person who can play a song on repeat for days. It drives my sister crazy. I'm sure she is not the only one that it drives crazy. Every so often I will find a new song that I just absolutely fall in love with to the point that I must hear it every possible waking second that I can get away with playing music aloud or jamming earphones into my ears (which increases bacteria in your ears by 700 times for every hour you wear them, so I'm not so sure how much longer I shall be doing that).

My current "repeat song" is a song called "We Wait" by After the Chase, a band I accidentally came across online. But the difference with this song and every other "repeat song" that I've had, is that every time (EVERY time) I listen to it, I have to fight so hard to keep from bursting into tears. Bursting into tears does not mean just merely tearing up. I mean outright sobbing. IN PUBLIC. I'm not sure why. I guess there is just something about it that affects me. Ah, but it is such a great song. There are no lyrics available online, so I tried to write them out from listening to it, but I may have gotten a word or two wrong.


We Wait

God of the broken
God of the suffering
God of the people who cry out for Him
And wait

God of the empty
God of the lonely
God of the hungry who call out to You
And wait, and need

And we wait, and we wait
And we wait to hear Your voice
To feel Your touch
To know Your love
To know You're here with us

God of the dreamless
God of the desperate
God of the worn out we cry out to You
God of the fearful
God of the weary
God of the tortured we cry out to You
And wait, and need

And we wait, and we wait
and we wait to hear your voice
to feel your touch
to know your love
and we wait, and we wait

Where are you
(I don't know)
Where are you
(Where you are)
Where are you
(I need to see)
Where are you
(Your face tonight)

We are broken
(I am so broken)
We are suffering
(Suffering)
We are worn out
(Worn out)
We are weary
(Where are you?)
We are fearful
(I need you)
We are hungry
(I need your touch)
We are desperate
(I need your love)
We are guilty

Where are you?
(Where are you?)
Where are you?
(Where are you?)
Where are you?
(I need you now)
Where are you?

And we wait, and we wait
And we wait to hear your voice
To feel your touch
To know your love
And we wait, and we wait
And we wait to hear your voice
To feel your touch
To know your love
To hear your voice
To feel your touch
To hear your voice
To know your love
To know you're here with us

God of the broken
God of the suffering
God of the people who cry out for Him
And wait.


To listen to the song, click here



I wonder what I'm waiting for.

Realizing that it's now, not later

You know those kids everybody hates? The ones whose parents spoil them rotten. The ones who have everything they could possibly need and more. The ones that seem to get what they want at the snap of their fingers. The ones that have everything most people want, but that so few realize they really don't. Yeah. It's interesting how nobody likes those kids. And yet, everybody wants to be them.

In some ways, I am those kids. I've always had anything I've ever needed. And more. I've never lacked food, shelter, pleasure. Whether my parents struggled to provide it or not, it was still there.

It's funny because even after getting rid of a lot of stuff before moving to the US, and then half of my belongings before moving to Ireland, I still feel like I have too much. I want to dump it, dump it all. Take it to the cancer research shop or oxfam or someplace and get rid of it. All it's doing is sitting. Maybe it could help other people.

In The Irresistable Revolution, Shane Claiborne talks about how in the early church there were christians who gave up everything and went and lived with the poor, served the poor, and taught the poor. Then there were christians who kept everything and served the ones who gave up their belongings by giving them a place to stay and feeding them. This was a mutual friendship and the ones who gave things up didn't look down on the others for being too self-centred and selfish, and the ones who kept their belongings didn't look down on the others for being too radical. It just fit and they worked together to serve God. And see, I guess my problem comes in in that I tend to relate more to the ones who gave up their belongings and just left everything.

I feel tied down by my belongings. I feel tied down by my school. School isn't helping anyone but me. In a way, it feels selfish. Then again, maybe it's preparing me to help others better down the road. Claire says I need to learn how to be content in my circumstances. I never really have been. I'm always looking on to the next, better thing that I could be doing. Maybe I just need to slow down and take a look around me, and instead of focusing on what I COULD be doing if I was in a different place, if I was in a different time, if I was in a different circumstance, and try and see what I can do here, and now, and with the people I'm with at the moment. The future's not til later, and I have no excuse if I don't make the most of what I have now.

My life as an Israelite in the Wilderness

Everyone has stories of when they were little kids and said the weirdest, cutest, or funniest thing ever. Well, I'm going to tell mine. When I was little, we lived in Taiwan. I must have been about 2 or 3 years old at the time. Now, when you're a little kid, it is a well-known fact that you do a craft and have some sort of take-home item in Sunday school. That Sunday, we made finger puppets out of paper. I'm not sure how those finger puppets made it safely home while being carried by me on one of my parents motorbikes, but it's safe to say that they did. Our lesson for the day had been Noah's Ark (Don Miller's Blue Like Jazz has some interesting thoughts on teaching Noah's Ark to children, but I won't go into that here), so of course, my finger puppets were of Noah and his three sons. Being the intense feminist that I am (hahaha...very funny), I was incredibly upset that I did not have a Noah's wife. My dad thought he could solve this problem very quickly, and said "Well, you could be Noah's wife." Giving him (I hope, because that would make it funnier) a very scornful look, I said simply "No, I can't." And when he asked why not, I replied "Because Noah is made of paper, and I'm made of real."

Made of real. No matter how big of a smile this story brings to my face, it still strikes me how deep of a response that really was. I am only recently beginning to learn how true that comment is. I've never felt this emotional in my life. I've never felt this happy. I've never felt this sad. I've never felt this angry. I've never felt this frustrated. I've never felt this much joy. It's as if for years I have been looking at things with only a flashlight with dying batteries, and suddenly someone opened the curtains and turned on lights and everything is so much clearer.

Everything is clear. All the feelings are clear. I have never felt so deeply. I've always fought it off, saying to friends "don't worry about it, you won't hurt me, you can't anger me, you won't irritate me." My friend Sarah kept telling me I was only human and that she would. But still, over and over again I would deny it and say that she couldn't, say that I just didn't let things bother me like that. But maybe it's ok to let things bother you. Maybe it's ok to be angry with your friends sometimes. If they love you, they can take it. And they'll still be there when you calm down. I keep blocking out the feelings. But if you block out the bad, the good goes too. Maybe God is telling me it's time to feel.

God. It's always been up and down with God. Sometimes I'm a "good christian". Other times I'm a "bad christian". But in some ways, that doesn't really matter either, because no matter what, he'll always love me the same. In other ways, it really matters a lot. I'm reminded of the Israelites in the wilderness. They would turn from God, something would go wrong, they cried out to God to deliver them, He would, they'd be all good again, and then the cycle would restart. That's exactly what I'm like. That's exactly what we're all like. But God is always there. God will always take us back.

Being good, going bad, and getting asked your own questions

I felt like crap today for no particular reason. Felt like crying for no particular reason. I feel like my dad when my mom died, he'd just be sitting there, and then suddenly the tears would just start flowing. Except that his tears made sense.

I keep forgetting my mom died. It sort of started at Encounter. We would learn something or I would do something and then my first thought would be "oh man, I can't wait to get back and talk to mommy about this." And then it would take me a moment, but I would eventually realize what I had just thought. Or I would be talking to someone and would say "my parents", referring to my mom and dad. Of course, they would assume I was talking about my dad and Claire. I would catch myself right after, but what can you say then? There's nothing really that could be done after that kind of mistake. I keep getting false memories. Talking to her about some video work I had done at North or driving somewhere in the car. Hanging out in our house in Poulsbo with a couple of my friends. But she didn't meet anyone I knew in Poulsbo. She hasn't known any of my friends since I was 16.

And then sometimes I ask myself "what would have happened if...". If what? If my mom hadn't died? If I hadn't been kicked out of school? If I hadn't been accepted into UUC? If my uncle and aunt hadn't taken me in when I had no where else to go? If I had told my dad no?

Where would I be now?

It's funny how much my mindset has changed. I used to look back on myself as a little kid and think about how amazing I was, how accepting of things, how trusting I was in God. Because I was the perfect Christian missionary kid. I fit every stereotype. I knew everything about the Bible. And yet, somehow...I knew absolutely nothing about it at the same time. There was a world outside of our conservative Christian bubble. A world that was called harmful and evil. A world that was greatly feared by our teachers and principals and possibly some parents. It was a place that would corrupt the children, draw them in with pretty things and then trap them with sex, drugs and alcohol (not rock and roll). But for some reason, it didn't feel right to me. So I went "bad". And when I went "bad", I saw that things were different. I discovered that not all Christians were nice people and that not all nice people were Christians. This discovery absolutely blew my mind. And now, when I look back on myself as a little kid, I don't think about how amazing I was or how much faith I had and wish that I would be able to be that happy, that faithful, and that good of a Christian again. Instead, I look back and feel a bit sad that the Christian world we live in today teaches children to think like that.

The Irresistible Revolution tells of a man who is complaining to his friend about how he wants to ask God why He lets there be so much poverty and starvation and bad stuff in the world. And when his friend asks him why he doesn't, he looks at the ground and half whispers "because I'm afraid He will ask me the same question."

What have we let ourselves become?

Too much to ask

I just spent my first day completely on my own again in a couple months. I used to love being on my own. I'd look forward to it. Any time I came over to my dad and Claire's or went anywhere that people were involved, I couldn't wait to leave again so that I was out of the company of people.

But for some reason, that's not enough anymore. For some reason, I'm no longer content to be nothing more than words on a screen. For some reason, now I just want to be touched, to be held, to be wanted. Even a real conversation with someone, face to face, would be ok.

Is that too much to ask for?

Breaking off the masks

I wrote before about people being blind. But what if they really aren't? What if it only looks like they don't see because they don't know what to do? But that's not the case with everyone because some people really just don't notice things. But also, what if everyone is the same? What if everyone thinks they see things and they think that everyone else doesn't, that everyone else is blind? I'm not sure.

I can see them though. See things that most other people don't notice. Don't notice or just don't pay attention to because they don't want to see them. It's so easy to fool people. They only see what they want to see. So if you give even a SLIGHT semblance that things are ok, then that is all they see. But I can see deeper than that. I can see through people, see through their masks. And it scares them. So I stay quiet. I don't talk because I don't want to scare them away. But if you just watch...their gait, the way they talk, the way they look, their posture, the way they are when they speak to their friends, the way they look when conversation is paused and their friends glance away for a second. It tells exactly who they really are. Whether they are happy or sad. Whether they have had a dark, painful secret or whether they just don't have a sob story. Because not everyone does. And yet everyone tries to. And so I watch people.

When I have nothing to do, I walk into town to watch people. To figure out their stories. But always take a camera. Because when you have a camera, nobody questions you. When you have a camera, you're obviously just there to take pictures. You're in the background and it's not a big deal. It's the easiest way to hide or be alone. I think only one person has seen through this so far, but I'm not even sure if she really did or if she just came to up to chat. If you have a camera, people can place you in the world. You're just a photographer. And because they can name you, it's more comforting to them and they won't feel out of place.

I always come back from watching people feeling kind of sad. Because there is just so much pain. And I can't do anything about it. But I stay quiet because nobody wants their mask cracked open. Nobody wants to be seen through. That's why they have a mask. It's safer that way. People who are good at faking make me the most sad though. Because they are the ones that almost nobody can see through. Everyone thinks they are the happiest people around. But they really aren't. I talked to one recently. One of my friends is really good at faking. And I told her. I don't know why I did, but I told her she was. I told her she looked sadder than usual. She asked me why I said "than usual". So I told her that I thought she was always sad and just didn't want people to know. She wanted me to tell her more. So I told her what I thought she was like. She said she was surprised I could see that and at the same time, touched that I cared enough to look for it. She told me to talk more, to tell more people who they are. To name them I guess.

I've met so many people recently who try to hide. There's this one girl, she's so very insecure. She isn't sure what to think or do. And yet it comes across that she does. She has a nervous laugh though, and that gives her away. And a lot of times she won't laugh until everyone else does, or she'll do what I do and laugh at awkward moments to try to ease up tension and make everything ok. I don't know her very well though so I can't say much. Then there's another. She's been hurt. But I don't know by what. It's quite a deep hurt. She has this thing where she'll just stare. But it's only for a couple seconds and it's not long enough for anyone to really notice. But in that couple seconds, her eyes get really sad. Then she catches herself and snaps back to reality. She is so strong on the outside. So caring. I'm kind of looking forward to getting to know her a bit better this year. I really liked her. There's a boy. Tall, strong, quiet. But he's not really. He can be fun and crazy and talk a lot. He likes deep conversations. But...there's something not right. And I didn't have enough time to figure out what. It wasn't just time though...in some way I just didn't really want to. I mean...he's a lot like my dad, and I guess that kinda scared me sometimes.

Because friends aren't really friends and enough isn't really enough

I have 399 "friends" on facebook.

This both bothers me and makes me happy at the same time. It bothers me because it does not end in zero. It makes me happy because it is divisible by three.

It also infuriates me. I have 399 "friends". That's a lot of people. But the thing is about facebook, myspace, and all these other ridiculous social networking sites, is that a lot of times, your friend count or picture count equates coolness and popularity.

I have 399 "friends". 399 people that don't actually care. Honestly, that's not true. Because a lot of them do care. But really, how many times do you go home just after meeting someone and become their "friend"? It drives me absolutely crazy because there are people that I am "friends" with that would never actually talk to me or that I wouldn't actually talk to. Not because I don't like them, but just because our paths wouldn't cross or we don't know each other well enough.

And yet we're friends on facebook. And that makes everything ok.

But I don't want to unfriend them because I don't want to make them feel bad. What if they noticed? And I do want the connection. I do want the relationship. It's just not there.

Then you have the friends who don't reply to you when you write to them. The ones who make you consistently question yourself on whether or not they do like you. Maybe I'm taking internet relations a bit too far, but when it's happening in real life too, that says something. Nice at one moment, nasty the next. It's hard to know what to think.

And then you add in the ones who are nice online, and nasty in person. Or nasty online and nice in person. Because you can be anybody you like on the internet. You can hide behind so many faces. You can be someone you never thought you would be able to be.

I guess it just makes me sad to look at my page and see that I have 399 friends and then realize that I don't know or care about them all as well as I would like to.



Anyway, I was talking to someone tonight, and we were having quite a deep conversation. Now I am in a bit of a deep and dark mood. Not deep and dark like my writing can get sometimes, though it may delve into that a bit. Just...it's there. Lurking in the shadows. If a mood can lurk. But mine is, and that's what I feel like. It's not a bad mood. I'm not sad, upset, or angry. I just am. I exist. And it's there, in the dark. And it's pulling me in. The curtains are spinning. I'm watching them now. They just spin and spin and they won't stop. And it all reminds me of last summer when I sunk back so far and just let myself drop until I could hardly get back out. And then a close friend went through family problems and had to go away but I was one of the few who was still allowed to talk to her. And while she was gone I realized that I had let it go too far and needed to stop. I had to stop. I was going to make it all worse. So I put myself through a couple days of my own kind of treatment. A rehab of sorts. I didn't go home that night. I stayed out. First I went to my special place. The outdoor sanctuary. I went and stood in that clearing in the middle of the forest and looked up at the cross. And I was filled with such a longing and despair that I didn't know what to do. So I left. I went to Walmart. I bought a book, some food, and some starbucks bottles of that coffee (I hate the stuff now, must have drank about 15 bottles), locked my pills and penknife in the trunk of my car, and spent the night in a carpark. Reading. At about 4 am when it started getting light, I went for a walk along the boardwalk beside Liberty Bay. Then I called my friend and left a message on her voicemail. Telling her things were bad but they were going to get better. Because they had to get better. Because I couldn't let myself sink lower. Then I couldn't deal with being there any longer. So I got in the car and drove. I drove to the beach about 45 minutes or an hour away. I sat there, watching the fishermen, the early risers, the dog walkers. Watching them go about their day. Everything was normal. Everything was ok. But it wasn't really. And I started to wonder if it was really all worth it. That maybe in seventh grade I wasn't wrong. That maybe I had had the right idea. And suddenly I was tired. So very tired. It was 9 in the morning. I had been up for over 24 hours. So I got back in the car to drive back to my youth pastor's house. The coffee didn't help. I fell asleep driving. I must have been asleep for about a minute. Suddenly I woke up. There was no reason for me to, but I did. I was about two inches from the guardrail, going about 50 miles an hour. On the other side of that guardrail was a ravine. It went quite deep. Had I not woken up at that precise second, I would have been in the ravine. But I swerved away. And I looked around, and things were different. The colors were brighter, the sounds were louder. Everything was different. And I didn't quite know what was going on. So I kept going. And I got to my youth pastor's house and fell asleep on the couch for a couple hours. Only a couple because I had to be up and put the chickens out and then be back at my house to supervise the movers since my dad and sister were in Ireland already. So I watched the movers and drank more Starbucks bottles and waited for my best friend to come over. And after that we hung out at Dairy Queen and the park nearly all day. And I was sort of happy but not really. Because I knew that even though everything wasn't ok, it would be at some point in the future, even if I didn't know when. And that was enough because it had to be enough. Because there was nothing else. And even though it was enough, it wasn't really.

Sometimes good things don't happen so better things can

So recently I guess I've been learning how to deal with disappointments. But not really. Just disappointments as in things that I have planned out to do/want to do, and then something else happening instead. It seems like I'll make these plans and be so excited for them and everything will be laid out of what is going to happen and I'll be so proud of myself because I've actually been organized and done something. And I mean, I'll even be praying about it and telling God how excited I am and how much I'm looking forward to it and stuff. Then God is like lolnope and pulls the rug from under my feet and things get canceled. And I'll get so angry and frustrated and basically start yelling at God and be like "why? whywhywhywhywhy? what was even the point of that? I was looking forward to it. I NEEDED it. Why would you do that to me?" And I'll be all angry and feel sorry for myself until logic kicks in. That's when I decide that I need to stop and calm down and just relax. But by then, I can't relax and I'm just so worked up about it (and just so you know, this is all on the inside, because on the outside, I'm the same as I always am). So then I pray again and ask God to give me peace about it and to relax and for things to be ok. And then they are. And I feel ok about it. Things don't seem so bad anymore. And then later, something even better happens. It's kinda crazy. I mean, two examples of this are like last week when I was supposed to go for lunch with Crooksy and then that didn't work out. Instead, during the time I would have been out with him, Ellisha and I talked for a while. And due to what we talked about, I think that was better for me than hanging out with Crooksy would have been and I think/hope it helped her too. Then also, I was pretty bummed that I couldn't go to Judy and Rachel G's seminar cause I had to work. But because I worked that morning, it meant I didn't work that night so I could go to Rachel Logan's bbq fundraiser and properly hang out with a bunch of people. It's just kinda hitting me how crazy it is that even though things don't work out MY WAY, they still end up working out better.

Also. Claire got on my case a bit tonight about why I don't like to pray aloud. She said that I'm ok talking to my dad in front of them, so why shouldn't I be ok with talking to God around them. But it's not the same. When you're praying aloud, a lot of times it ends up that you're praying for/to the other people and not God. You're trying to make sure you say the right thing and don't leave anything out. You can't leave anything out or your prayers will be wrong. But if it's to God it can't be wrong. So I just don't like praying out loud. There's no point arguing about it though. I just hope the topic doesn't come up again.

When failing becomes a dream

Couple things that aren't so good (or just that I need to pay attention to) that I'm just going to write down so I can try to keep in check.

First of all, I'm getting WAY too excited about the possibility of failing my exam and getting kicked out of my course. Actually, I'm excited about what I would want to do if that did happen, but still, I need to slow down on that and try hard not to fail. Need to think about the good things next year will bring if I do stay here.

Second of all, I need to/am going to have a conversation with Claire and my dad. Maybe tomorrow. Letting them know how I feel about how things are and what's been going on and how they make me feel. That should be interesting. And long and emotional too. Sounds...fun. Not really. But for some reason I'm feeling ok about it. It needs to be done anyways. Maybe I'll tell my dad about last November too...we'll see. It definitely needs to be done in the next couple days, cause they leave really early Monday morning/late Sunday night.



Today I just about cleaned out my bank account. I've been way behind on my tithe, so I pulled all the money today and gave it. Actually, I have a special way of tithing so I don't even know how much I give lol. It's kinda funny, but I guess my thinking comes from Matthew where is says to not let your left hand know what your right is giving. But as it is, I'm down to a couple pounds in my wallet, and maybe none in the bank. I have enough to get me to and from work this week, but when Monday comes around, I'm not sure what's going to happen. And strangely, I'm feeling ok about that too. Because I know something will work out and I'll be able to get there and back no problem.


Also, something I find interesting is my crying. Yes, I know I'm writing about this again. But I guess...I was talking to a couple of people about it, and the thing is, I've always seen crying as weakness. That's just what it is to me I guess. If I can't control my own emotions, I'm just being weak. So then, if I'm crying all the time, I'm being weak all the time (by my definition). And in 2 Cor. 12:9-10 it says "But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." So I guess right now I'm just seeing myself as being weak. But it's the weak that God uses. And through Him we get our strength. So maybe right now is my "time to be weak."


I had more to write about, but now I just can't think of it. I should really write down my ideas of what I want to write about so that I remember them when I get back here...oh well.

The comfort of being an Alien and Stranger

Couple things I've been thinking about the past day or two. Got to see Rachel Logan today (yay! :D). She came up because tomorrow is her fundraiser for doing Relay next year. We had a good talk. We talked about some stuff I was meaning to write about tonight.

I've been thinking and wondering for some time now, if this is really where I am supposed to be. Am I really supposed to be in Coleraine? Am I really supposed to be studying media? I was meant to be here last year, that's for sure, but what about this year? How will I know what I'm meant to do? So I decided to pray about it. I asked God that if He didn't want me here, to please make it so that I wouldn't be able to return. Because I can see no other way out, and I'm not sure if I'm meant to stop anyways. This way, I will know for sure that I was supposed to be out if I am out. So, in a couple of weeks, I have an exam coming up for a class I failed first semester. If I don't pass the exam, I'm out of the course. I'm going to study for it and try as hard as I can to pass, but if I don't, then I will know that I am not supposed to be here. And now the question "then what?" comes up. Then what? Well, last week, I realized that I can no longer consider Poulsbo home. Things are too different. I'm too different. Each of us have moved on with our lives. I will never fit in there again as well as I did before. This means I don't really have somewhere I can call home. When I realized this, I took it quite bitterly. Now, I am looking at it in a more positive light. I was given the opportunity to call somewhere home for two years. That was something I had longed for my entire life. A place to call home. And I got it. And it was a good two years. Something that comforted me was in Ephesians when Paul says that we are "aliens and strangers in this world". So of course I don't have a place to call home here. In a way, I am taking it out of context, but at the same time, I'm not really. My point is, though, if I have no where to call home, if I have no place that I am tied down to, then I am free to go anywhere and do anything. And so, I have a few ideas of what I would like to do if I don't get back into university for this school year (which I am not going to share just yet). The only problem is, I can't let myself get too excited about them just in case I DO pass and end up disappointed about that. But those options will be waiting and are things that I could do in the future. And if they are things that I am meant to do, they will still be there. If they are gone, well then they were never mine to do in the first place and that's ok. But whichever way it goes, I believe it will work out for the best.


Also, I have an interesting story. So the other morning, I was at the Bible reading service at New Horizon, and there was this song that we were singing. As we were singing it, I got a funny feeling that I should send the lyrics OF THE NEXT VERSE OF THE SONG THAT WE HADN'T EVEN SUNG YET to someone. I had never heard the song before, so I was a little confused and didn't really want to do it in case the next verse wasn't any good. Then it came up and it was, so I was like well ok then, but who am I supposed to text it to. And then a name came to me. And I was like "no...that's not a good idea, I've sent her enough texts. I don't want to bother her too much." And it came again. And I thought "really? really? this is just my mind messing with me here. Seriously, I don't want to bother her." The song finished at that point, so I thought "See, it was just my mind. Good thing I didn't text her." Suddenly, the worship leader said "ok, let's do that song again." My jaw dropped. And then the name came to me a third time (three times? interesting...). And this time I thought "well ok then. I'll give it a shot and see what happens." So I did. And I got a reply about 5 minutes later saying that I didn't know how much she had needed to hear that right then. And at first I felt really bad because I almost hadn't sent it. And then I thanked God about how persistent He is and how He is still willing to use me to help people even when I'm being stubborn and don't want to agree with Him.

Starfish really do exist

I had some things to say, but I also have a migraine so I will try to keep this short and will maybe write about them later.

The other day, I was walking through the store tent at New Horizon. As I walked along, I was looking at the shelves of books. Not really looking for or at anything in particular, not really wanting to buy anything. One of the books, in particular, caught my eye. It had an interesting cover. I admired the cover for a minute or so and then moved on. I didn't even read the book's title.

That night, I was online and I accidentally came across a blog entry that someone I don't really talk to much anymore (not cause we're on bad terms, just cause it's been a long time) wrote while I was away at Encounter. For some reason it was that person, for some reason it was that blog, for some reason it was that specific entry. That wasn't even the last entry. I couldn't have found it had I tried. But she wrote about freedom. She wrote about trusting in God. She wrote about living for God. She wrote about what Sonship was all about. And then she went on to say that she had been rereading a book and that was what brought up all these thoughts and ideas. The book was called The Irresistible Revolution, by Shane Claiborne. Because I was a bit interested, I looked it up on Google. Coincidentally (no), it was the same book I had looked at earlier that night. So the next day, I went back and bought it.

I have been reading a bit of it today. It's pretty interesting so far, and I think I'm going to update a bit on here if there is anything that I find particularly good.

BUT! The book mentions my starfish story! For some reason, any time I tell people that story, they have never heard it before, but it's in this book! And apparently, it was a story that was made up as an illustration by Mother Theresa, which I didn't realize. But if it was something that she would say, why don't more people know it?

To bring me to tears

This is probably going to be a long post. It's going to cover many different things. It will most likely require many different emotions too, so I'm sure it will be both interesting and confusing to read. But I guess I just want to write about things that have been on my mind recently, things that I have a hard time saying out loud because they are just too deep and emotional sounding and I would mess it up if I tried to say them. Anyways. I'm just gonna stop writing this now.


I was reading through my blog the other day, and I realized that it can be read through two voices. One of the voices is my voice. It is bouncy and all over the place. It is confusing to read and doesn't make much sense because the thoughts don't flow or I'll say something and not finish it. It's just how I talk. The other voice is deep and dark. It is also my voice, but I think it's the voice of me when I go inside myself. It thinks too much and too deeply. It sounds so very hurt and broken. It knows too much about people. But while I like the deep talking, dark sounding voice, somehow I feel that I can't let it keep going. I need to make it go away. I need to come out of myself. If I don't, somehow, some way, it will end up killing me.


This past week being back from Encounter has been interesting. It seems like I am so much more emotional than I ever have been. Any little thing can just about set me off crying, where previously, it would take so much to do anything, and even then I wouldn't cry. I'll even just be walking down the street and the tears will flow. I never let myself do that. But for some reason, I've been accepting it and just letting myself cry. I still do so in private, don't want anyone to see me, but I am letting myself do it at all. And like this morning, I glanced up and happened to see Rachel and Lorraine, and they just started waving at me like crazy. I almost started sobbing on the spot. It took so much to stop myself from doing that. Everything is getting to me. We'll be singing songs right before the service at New Horizon and I'll find myself tearing up. I'm not too sure what's happening. But I'm feeling everything so much more intensely than I can ever remember feeling it before, whether that's sadness, anger, happiness pain, or even joy.


Tonight, at New Horizon, the speaker was talking about how in Acts, the apostles got in trouble for preaching about Jesus and they ended up getting thrown in prison and then they were beaten and released and told not to preach anymore. And then they rejoiced over the fact that they got beaten for the sake of Jesus. Just to be clear and make sure we got his point, he said something about how they weren't rejoicing because of the PAIN. In a very disgusted tone of voice, he spat out "some people have such sick, twisted minds that they actually get pleasure from pain." It was just the way he said it, the disdain and disgust that he had...it made me feel so very bad and so very ashamed. And in that moment, I lost some respect for that man. I feel kinda bad about that, because he is supposed to be some sort of super important preacher and pastor who has written a lot of books and is really good at preaching. But I guess it's just the thought that, in a way, he judged me and so, so many other people before even meeting us...it just doesn't seem right to me. And I know everyone does it, but I guess just because you don't like something/someone or are disgusted by them, doesn't mean you should verbalize that fact.


When we were working with the Gorey and Wexford church plants, we did a lot of magazine drops to try to get people to come to the church or to at least call the pastors. The funny thing is, when I pass by estates here now, that's what I think about. And then when I'm walking back to my dad and Claire's house, I look at the houses in the street and I want to go put a magazine through theirs letter boxes because they need to know too. But I have no magazines to give them. So I don't know what to do.


When I left for work yesterday morning, it started raining really hard, so I came back in and asked my dad and Claire if I could get a lift. Problem was, they were in their room so we were talking through the door. What I heard was "Louise, just go." So I left. And I was quite bitter and angry too because of the way it was said. Then when I got back to their house after work, they asked why I had left and said that they had got up to give me a lift and I was gone. So I had misunderstood. Later, I realized that I should apologize for being bitter and angry toward them when they didn't even deserve it. But then Claire brought it up again and started talking about how much I had screwed up that morning and how they didn't sleep much the night before and how I had woken them up for no reason by asking for the ride and that I definitely was not her favorite person that morning, so I decided that since she was going to respond that way, I wasn't going to apologize. But that's still the wrong attitude and I know I still need to do so. :/ It just seems like almost everything between me and her turns itself into some sort of problem.


I don't feel like Encounter is over. Well, maybe Encounter as itself is. But for some reason, I keep getting the feeling that it will be started up again. It will be different, but the same basics. Sonship and then outreach teams. And for some reason I keep getting the feeling that it will be started up again by someone who was there this year. And that the World Harvest MAP team will come back out for it again when it does to help run it for that month. But for some reason, I don't think I'm going to be involved. I don't think I'm going to be there. No matter how much I would want to be. Sometimes I'm not sure how much I should trust my feelings.


I think it would be interesting to do Sonship as a nation/world-wide tour type of thing. That would be your job. Use either the one week or two week format, and travel around with your team, leading the talks, doing the disciple-ling, all that stuff, and then after the time is up, move on to the next town. Maybe do one town a month, and that way you could do 12 different places in a year. Get more people involved to make multiple teams, and you can do even more. It would be really cool if it did work, and I really want everyone to be able to learn what we learned and to maybe even start thinking like that. It would be quite incredible. I wonder if it would work out.


While my team went to Wexford and Gorey, the other outreach team went to a place called the Anchorage. When I first heard about Encounter from Rachel, she told me she was doing the Anchorage part and told me a bit about it, and it was mainly hearing about that that made me want to go. Interestingly enough, I was placed on the other team. See, from what I know about the Anchorage, it's a safe place for kids. There are kids clubs there, teen outreach types of things. It's just somewhere safe. And that's what I want to do. I know I talk about media and I'm studying it and I talk about wanting to be a film director, and I do...sort of. But part of me wonders if that's just a false dream. Something concrete. A job that would be concrete. Because I don't want a real job. Not because I'm lazy or don't want to work, I do want to work. But I don't know if what I want to do exists. Mainly because I'm not sure what I want to do. I don't have it all figured out, and everyone thinks I do. That bothers me. It makes me feel like I'm lying to everyone. I'm studying media because if I HAD to have a job, that's what I would do. I'm not studying it because that's what I want to do. I mean it is, but not really. I want to do something worthwhile, something that will help people. I've talked about it before, but not here. For several years now, I've wanted to build this building that is basically like a community center layout. Kitchen, bathrooms, gym type area, outside sports areas like a basketball court and a garden, but then there are also bedrooms and places to do homework. It would be a place where kids can come after school. They can come to play, to do homework, to hang out, to talk, to just be there if that's all they want to do. A place to go when there are bad things at home that they want to get away from. People that care that are willing to be there for them and talk to them. And from what I've heard, that's what the Anchorage is, and that's a big part of why I went to Encounter. I'm not and never was sad that I was put on the other team. There was a reason for that. I could have put in a request for the Anchorage if I really wanted to. But maybe someday I will go down there and see them, and see what they are all about, and see if maybe I can do something to help.


At my new job, there is a lot of standing around time. Many people just buy stuff and leave, so I'm stuck doing nothing. And even when I have stuff to do, I am own my own in the back anyways, clearing tables or washing dishes. In a sense, I am spending about 6+ hours of my day on my own. On my second day of working there, I realized I was thinking too much and needed to get out of my head. The job was supposed to be a distraction, and instead it was an isolation and just causing me to think more. Then suddenly I got a thought. "Just pray." So that was my idea. On my way to and from work, and when I'm back there on my own and have nothing to do or when I'm thinking too much, I'll pray. Normally I don't pray that much, if at all, but now I'm starting to. And it's getting easier and easier to do it too. It's kind of cool. Things are already happening.


It drives me absolutely crazy when there is this concept that I know I should be getting, and in a way I do get it, but it doesn't completely make sense. But then all of a sudden, on some random day, it will click and all make perfect and complete sense. I love that part. That happened today. I was sitting next to Lorraine in the seminar (which was about sex btw...me? in a sex seminar? what. the. heck. I don't even know...), and I don't remember if this was part of it or if I happened to glance at the next page in my Bible and saw the passage, but its always bothered me in parts where it says that the immoral and greedy and all these other bad things won't inherit the Kingdom of God. And I always think but I'm like that, we're all like that. But today I realized that yes, we are like that, but that's where Jesus dying comes in and how when God looks at us and sees Jesus and how we've been made righteous through Him, so God doesn't see the immorality and the greed, He just sees Jesus and so that's how we inherit the Kingdom of God. I was quite excited when that suddenly made sense.


Today was pretty great. Not all of it, but just cause I got to see Lorraine and Rachel. And this morning was the one time that I didn't expect to possibly come across anyone I knew. And I wasn't even sure why I was going. It was mainly because I had nothing better to do and cause I needed to get my exam resit stuff dealt with. But then they were there and as I said I was almost in tears when I saw them. And Lorraine had to leave really soon after to go back down to Dublin because she said she probably shouldn't have gone to New Horizon in the first place, but she still took time to talk to me and hang out a bit and then tonight Rachel was working at the coffee stand thing but she let me stand behind it with her so we could chat and then she drove me home at almost midnight and it's just...amazing. And I don't think they know how much it means to me or how much they mean. And I just can't believe how much they care. It was like...like the day I realized that Ellisha and Rachel L didn't think of me as a dumb, tagalong kid. They thought of me as a friend. It was as amazing as that. And people don't realize. Sometimes they don't even think they are really even going out of their way. But sometimes being there is enough. Sometimes that's all that's important.

Hello, I can hear your hurt. Who are you?

My dad's office smells like dust and old books. The room is quite dimly lit, but the harsh glare from my laptop screen more than makes up for that and adds to the slight headache that was caused by the bright flood lights in the New Horizon main tent. It is a cold, quiet night. Everything is peaceful.

And yet, somewhere out there, someone is crying themselves to sleep. The pain is too much for them to bear.

Somewhere out there, someone is having a great night out. But inwardly they hurt so much. And they can't tell anyone.

Somewhere out there, someone is having their first kiss. The perfect end to their first date. But that's not the way they wanted it to happen.

Somewhere out there, someone has decided that it's not worth it anymore. Nobody cares enough. That's it.


And somehow, we're all connected. And somehow, I can feel their suffering. And for some reason, my heart aches for these people. People I will never know or meet. People that I'm connected to for a brief moment in time. And then it's gone.

And I want to make it all better. I want to fix it. I want it to go away and never bother them again. I want things to be ok. I want for them to not hurt anymore.

But I don't even know who they are...



And there is nothing I can do but pray. And it kills me because I'll never know who they are or if everything turned out ok.

All I can do is pray. But maybe that's the best thing to do anyway.

No words

I have so much to say, and yet no words to express myself with.

When the time is right, I shall try to collect my thoughts and write them down in such a way that I can be understood.




I just want you to know that I'm doing fine, though. Things are so much better right now.


“So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.”
The Perks of Being a Wallflower - Stephen Chbosky

When life treats you like a diet coke

I was doing some thinking today while sitting on the bus on the way to and from my driving test. I passed by the way. Passed by a lot. It was quite a nice feeling. I needed the victory right now. Anyway, I was reading and listening to music and thinking at the same time. It's funny how sometimes I can do all three and still be able to pay attention to each individually at the same time. I realized what it is that I really want, what it is that I've been missing, and why it was so hard to come back here to my dad and Claire's house. I want to be wanted, to be loved and cared about. I mean, I am...in some ways. But I want to know I'm wanted. I want it to be clear. I want somewhere that is mine. Not just a bed and closet in my sister's room. A bed that she takes over when I'm not here. I want to belong. I want to say "my family" instead of just "the family". I want to say "my house" instead of "my dad and Claire's house". I feel like...when I go to a fast food restaurant and order a meal, I either get the food without the drink, or I pass the drink off to someone else because I don't drink soda. Sure, I'm getting what I want, but along with it, I'm getting something I don't want. It's not costing me any extra really, it's not even that big of a deal. I'm just getting something I don't really want that much. That's what I feel like. I feel like that drink. Claire's meal came with me on the side and now she has to deal with that.

Maybe I'm being selfish. Maybe I'm not being fair. All I know is, this month I caught a glimpse of something beautiful and it was so so hard to leave it. I don't want to lose that. I want it to stay forever.

I just want to be wanted.

Why did I move to Ireland?

Wow. I'm pretty stunned right now. Today was crap. I washed dishes for about two hours in a place I don't know, working with people I just met. Then it took me forever to get back to my dad and Claire's because traffic was terrible and the roads were so crowded with holiday makers and people wanting to go to the circus. I was almost in tears basically all day. I spent the evening uploading pictures to facebook and working on my driving exam stuff because my test is in the morning. Then, just as I was about to go downstairs to get a snack, my cousin came online. I haven't talked to him in about a year. I feel terrible about it because he and I are great friends, but it just seems like I've been avoiding a lot of people from America. I only talk to a few of them. That's a habit I need to change this year and try to sort out those relationships. I guess even though I care about them all so much, it was just easier to not talk to them at all rather than let them know how bad of a time I was going through last year. Anyways, Josh and I have been really good friends since we were little kids. We were always each others favorite. I think a big part of why we bonded so much is because in a way, we are the family scapegoats. I do admit that it is partially our own fault...being pranksters has it's consequences. His mom says that she thinks that Josh and I are the smartest ones in the family though and that's why we get picked on, we intimidate the others. Especially my grandmother. I'm not sure if that's true or not though...I can be pretty dumb sometimes. Anyways, Josh started talking to me, and I almost considered not answering and just going downstairs. Then I decided that that was a jerk move and that I should talk to him this time. Eventually, the conversation led to this:

2:50pm Josh
why did u move to ireland

2:50pm Louise
cause my dad wanted me to

2:50pm Josh
no

2:50pm Louise
I moved like a year ago...remember?

2:50pm Josh
God wanted u to
ur dad had nothing to do about it

2:51pm Louise
where is this coming from?

2:51pm Josh
God wanted me to say this

It was just...so random. I mean...why? Where did that even come from? We had been talking about school and what he was doing next year and then it was just that. But it got me thinking...all the stuff that led up to me being here, then CU, then Encounter, etc...but still, anytime I'm asked why I live in Ireland, I say it's because my dad wanted me to come. I mean, that's true, it is. It was important to him to keep the family together. I could have said no if I wanted. I could have lived with friends and went to OC and continued working at Dairy Queen. I really did not want to come here or have anything to do with it. But I came anyway. I often ask myself why. I often wonder how my dad wanting me to was possibly a good enough reason for me to give up my life and my friends and almost everything that was important to me. But maybe it was more than that. Maybe it's time to start giving God a bit more credit.

Right before leaving for Encounter, I noticed that I was starting to get a bit snappish and defensive around my dad and Claire. It's almost as if I expect everything they say to be a criticism or a complaint and so I instantly take the defensive and try to make sure I am right. Even though I noticed this before I left and thought about it so much and wanted to try hard to stop, I can't seem to. I could make tons of excuses here and say it's because I'm tired or something, but honestly, it's not. I guess it is just something I have grown to expect and so now I'm just being a jerk. It needs to stop. Instead of making things worse I should be trying to make them better. It's just not cool. This is definitely something I need to work a bit harder on.



I'll try to write something substantial and about the trip later. I'm just so tired right now it's not even funny. Tired and frustrated and something else. I guess in some ways, as I said in our debrief, I still feel like "soup".

Back to friends, caring, and forgiveness

I know I've written this here before, but it's been on my mind again recently and I just wanted to bring it up again. We were talking today about forgiveness,and in my opinion, with that comes the idea of caring about people.

Being friends with someone is like saying "I want to care about you so much that I am giving you the ability to hurt me."

The more I think about that, the more I think it's true. But forgiving them for hurting you can be so so hard sometimes, even if you do care. In all honesty though, I think it basically just comes down to discovering what is more important to you, them or your pride.

I think that's all I really have for now. There are about four or five other topics swirling around in my head that I would like to write about, but I need to figure them out better for myself first. The problem is, I think in ideas, not words. And it is so very hard to try and translate ideas into words that are understandable. That's why I think in ideas, there just aren't enough words to describe what I'm thinking about. Right now there is a debate/poll going on to decide upon the millionth word of the English language. 999,999 words, and there aren't enough for me to explain myself. Am I the only one who thinks like this?



PS. I have a confession to make. I blocked out yesterday's talk. It was about not feeling guilty for things others have done to you and how they have hurt you. I just don't know if I can deal with thinking about that right now. But I will let myself think on it in time, promise.

Hagar's Prayer

I wrote a song the other day. In my opinion it looks worse and worse every time I read it lol...but maybe if I keep writing, my lyrics will improve.


Way out in the desert
Sitting by a spring,
Beautiful little girl,
Running from everything.

Looking down, You see her,
Broken, scared, and sad.
You strengthen her and tell her
Her mistress won't be mad.

Chorus:
You are the God who sees me,
Strengthens me and frees me.
You are the God who sees me,
All glory to Your name.

I'm so lost without You,
Sitting in my sin.
Full of fear and dying
Unless I let You in.

Jesus, I know I need You,
Teach me to do what's right.
Carry me, help me, keep me,
Lead me through the night.

Chorus

Every day is an adventure

Every day is an adventure.

Do I have a plan? No.

Do I know what's going to happen? Definitely not.

Am I scared? Surprisingly enough, not really.

:)

what if...

what if you hear something by accident that was never meant to be heard by you? what if you aren't completely positive that what you thought you heard was actually what was said? what if what you thought you heard was correct and it could change the way you view things forever?

would you really want to know? or is it just better to keep quiet and not make a big deal out of things?

but what if it was true and not knowing would mean that you would be believing a lie for your entire life? even if that is easier, is it right?

do i deserve to know? or is it none of my business?

i loved her too, you know. it wasn't just you.

I wonder if you can be too happy

Yesterday was a good day. It was a great day. We played outside a lot. I love playing outside.

We took a lot of pictures.

Later that night, as I was uploading those pictures to facebook, one of them in particular caught my eye. It's a picture of me with a ladybug on my nose, and I'm laughing. I just look so...happy. You can see it in my face, my smile, my eyes. I look completely happy.

See, the funny thing is, I wasn't going to let myself get that happy here. I was going to be guarded, keep everything safe. I honestly didn't think I could be that happy again.

Around new people, I'm shy. Shy, quiet, and reserved. And yet...after, what, 3 months, maybe less, of knowing these girls, they drag me out to the point that I can look like THAT in real life. Not faking. I couldn't fake that look if my life depended on it.

But now I'm wondering, is it ok to be that happy? Is it fair?

Even more so, is it ok to want to be?

Fighting for nothing?

Sometimes we don't realize how fragile people are. How one little word can burn at somebody for hours and hours. How one little event can tear their entire life apart. How one little decision made by you can change everything.

Sometimes we don't realize how tough people are. How they can put up with so much and yet have so little. How they can keep going, no matter what has happened. How they can be there for those they love even if they are having a hard time themselves.


Most people don't notice. Most people just can't see. They can't see anything. There is a cloud, a blur, something marring their vision.

It covers up everything going on around them, making them blind. Blind, even though they can see. Blind, because they can see.

Some people choose to be blind. Why would you choose to be blind? It makes everything easier for you. It makes everything harder for everyone else. It makes the world harder. It makes everything harder for you.

Some people try to make things better. They do all sorts of things, use different methods, teachings, beliefs. Most of them are wrong. I don't say anything because I don't know what's right. But they are wrong.

And it makes everything worse. It makes it harder to deal with. And the people that are so fragile start to strain under the pressure. But they are tough. They don't break. They keep going and try hard to live it out. But all through it, they wish somebody could be there for them who knows, who understands. They don't realize that most people do. They, too, are blind.

And that is why I can't sleep.

I don't like sleeping.

If I'm sleeping, it means I can't do anything. I can't help. I stay up all night and talk to people, try to see what's wrong, try to help with their problems, just letting them talk. Sometimes that's all someone needs, a person to listen. Someone who cares. I don't know who you are or why you are reading my blog at this moment in time, but let me tell you, I care. I would die for you. Maybe you're a friend, someone I hardly know, someone I've never met, someone I never will meet. It doesn't matter. I care.

And that's why I don't sleep. That's why I can't sleep. There is too much going on. Too much that needs to be fixed. Too much that can't be fixed.

It is too much. We can't fix this world. We can't fix ourselves. We're too broken. Everything is broken.

Look around you. Look for the closest person to you. They are so broken. There is so much under that tough exterior that they fight to hide.

You are broken.

I am broken.

I am broken. And yet here I am, trying to fix things. It sounds ridiculous. Something broken trying to fix something else that's broken? What am I fighting for? Is it nothing? Is it impossible?

It's not nothing. It can't be. I'm fighting for people, for happiness, for everything to be ok. That's not nothing.

But I'm losing. I'm never going to win. I know this. I can never make everyone happy. I can never make everything ok. But I'll fight for it anyway. Because maybe I can make a difference. Because maybe I can show people I care. Because maybe, just maybe, I can understand how they feel and make an impact in their life.

Maybe I will make someone happy.

Maybe everything will be ok.

Then, then I can sleep.

I'm not quite sure how I feel.

I'm feeling everything at once, every single emotion, pushing and tugging at me in a never ending battle to come out on top.

I can't breathe.

It feels like there's something in the top on my chest and throat, blocking off the air supply, wrapping it's cold fingers around my neck and squeezing until I quit.

But I can't quit.

When things are too hard to deal with, the numbers come. It's a distraction, self-preservation, a life saver.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5...2, 4, 6, 8, 10...1, 3, 5, 7, 9...5, 7, 11, 17, 23...

Day after day I grin and tell everyone that everything is going to be ok, tell myself that everything is going to be ok.

And maybe it won't be, but I can't quit.

Most of me doesn't feel this. Most of me doesn't care. It feels nothing and just laughs at the problems my emotions have to face.

Deep down I know this is a cover-up. Deep down I know that if I let it care, everything will be too much, it will care too much.

Maybe someday I'll let it care. Someday.

Until then, I despise myself.

2x2=4
2x3=6
2x4=8
2x5=10

Why is it that even though I have lost someone, any time I hear of anyone else who has too, I don't know what to do? I don't know how to feel, how to react, what to say, what to think. I want to protect them and make sure nothing else bad ever happens to them again. And then I think to myself "man, losing somebody that close to you must be a horrible thing to experience."

Am I really that disconnected?

Too late?

I just got my hard-drive working again. There are so many things on there that I didn't realize I had kept. I have tons of conversation transcripts that for some reason I copied into notepad and then saved. I have many old school assignments. All of my old music and photos. It's kind of crazy what is on there actually.

I came across something that I wrote about 2-2.5 years ago. It was originally written in a msn conversation with David, but then I used it in a paper that I wrote in 11th grade as well. What I thought was interesting was that even though I don't feel like that anymore, reading it sent a chill up my spine. And deep, deep down, I feel so very bad for that lonely, scared kid who wrote those words.


“You feel lost and alone. Nobody cares, there is nobody to run to even if you wanted to. Everybody could be an enemy, you don't know who is actually friend and who is just looking for information to hurt you, so you just don't trust anyone. In some ways you pretend to. You also pretend to be alright. Everything is fine on the outside, but on the inside, you feel like you’re burning up. If you could feel like you’re dying without actually experiencing it, that’s what it would feel like. Nobody knows what is actually wrong, and nobody could ever hope to understand it. You can't tell your parents because they won't get it, they will just worry about you and you can't have that. You don't want them poking in your life. Its your life, you want to live it your way. You can't tell your friends because they won't get you either, they might ditch you, or worse, make fun of you. You’re hurting, you’re alone, you feel lost, and you’re slightly scared, but you can't admit that. Admitting fear is defeat. On the outside you are a tough shell, but nobody knows you actually cry yourself to sleep almost every night. Though its hell, you'd rather sit in your dark hole than tell anybody what’s wrong. Its easier that way. You sit there and pray, that someday, somebody will come along and lift you out of that dark hole so you don't have to do it yourself. The only problem is, every time someone comes along, you push them aside and say not yet, not you. But deep inside you know that one day, it will be too late.”

My graduation letter from my dad

Louise,

At this turning point in your life, I would like to pass on a few words of encouragement.

First, I must say that I am proud to be your father and that your mother was always proud of you too. It's not that we always liked every decision you made, it is just that we were thrilled when you joined our family and still receive joy because of your presence. As Proverbs 23:25 says, "May your father and mother be glad; may she who gave you birth rejoice!" You have been a source of joy, may you always continue to be one in the days ahead. If you do, if you continue to grow in godly wisdom, you will make your father and others, glad.

Second, I would like to encourage you to grow to be like your mother. This is not necessarily a wish that you would become a missionary and serve overseas. Rather, it is a hope that in years to come you will express her love for the Lord and for others. We frequently saw that you had a heart for the salvation of others. In that I rejoice and hope to see much of in days ahead. However, no matter what job you may do in the future, whether media or anything else, I want to encourage you to commit your way to the Lord and serve him in all you do with your heart. As Proverbs 31:30 says, "Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." As you know, I believe that the last part of this verse summed up your mother's life. May it do the same for you also.

Finally, as you begin to live you life out from under my roof, I would like to place you in the hands of God the Father who can do a much better job teaching and fathering you than I ever could. Draw near to him. Stick with him. Allow his word to be your guide and resource for living. Always please him. Never grieve him. Be his lady, his disciple. My final blessing can only echo that found in Numbers 6:24-26: "The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace."

Shalom!

Sometimes I wonder...

Is my desire to be a better christian fueled out of a desire to know God more, or is it just that I want to help so many people, go to places and serve them and teach them about God?

I think it's mainly the second one...

Isn't that not so good? Shouldn't I be wanting to be a better christian because I want to get to know God better and stuff as opposed to wanting to be one for other people?

I'm really not sure...

Church

I was thinking today about Singapore and what happened to me there. A year or two after I got kicked out of school, my dad told me that they had also tried to get me kicked out of my church. They had gone to my pastor and youth pastor and asked for me to not be allowed to attend anymore. The pastor and youth pastor, however, refused to allow for that to happen, and I was never told of the incident. At least, not until a year or two later.

Even though I found out after it happened and I had decided that Singapore didn't matter anymore, I was so, so angry when I was told. See, those last couple of months, IBC was the only place I was truly happy. It was the only place people would look at me, talk to me, treat me as if everything was normal. Because there, it was.

And now I wonder, if it was at church that I was happiest, why do I not go at all anymore? What is it that is keeping me from going?

Last night before I went to bed, I told my friend Erin that due to how gloomy my blog seems to be, today I would write a happy entry to raise the mood a little bit. All day today, I was on the look out for something outstanding to happen that I could write about.

Tonight, I've sat here for about an hour, looking at my screen, trying to figure out what I could write about. What happened today that people would find happy and interesting. But you know, I don't think that matters really.

I hung out with friends. We spent time together and watched some shows/movies. It was fun. That made me happy.

I talked to people I haven't heard from in a long, long time. And they are doing alright. That made me happy.

I turned in my last paper for about another month yesterday. Today I was able to relax and sit around doing whatever I wanted to do. That made me happy.

I had an argument with my dad today. These days, it seems like half the time we talk, we're arguing about something. But I wouldn't give him up for anything, and I know he wouldn't give me up either. That makes me happy.

It was a day of music, a day of friends, of talking, of tv, of fun, of caring.

Yesterday was a rough day for a lot of people. I'm sure today was too. There is a lot that could be said, there is a lot that shouldn't be said, and there is a lot that nobody has words for. But everything is going to be ok.

Just remember, if you've got yourself stuck in a pit, the only direction you can go is up.

Today

People are hurting.

People are crying.

Everything is going wrong.


Yep, sounds like any other day...







...God, help us.

:/

When I was in elementary school, I used to get teased for always knowing the answers and for being able to do my work so fast. I had teachers who wouldn't be happy because I got through the assignment so fast and it was too easy for me, but they didn't want to set something harder. So I became one of the 'dumb kids'. I misspelled words and got questions wrong on tests. Easy questions that I knew the answer to. On purpose. I made myself become normal. Actually, I made myself lower than normal. Ever since then, I have always been in the lower half of my class grades-wise. Because of this, I kept getting pushed farther and farther down. Except for my 11th grade English teacher who made me sign up for AP English the following year even though I only got through her class with about a C. Sometimes I wonder, had I stuck through the teasing, had I not dumbed myself down, what would I be doing now? How would things have turned out different? Where would I be? And most of all...what should I have done differently?

Maybe One Day

My friend Josh read my blog entry from a couple days ago, and it inspired him to write a song about me :) I liked it and wanted to save the lyrics, so here it is.



Maybe One Day

Sometimes I really do wonder what I am to you... I used to think I knew what I wanted... Maybe I did know what I wanted, maybe it just changed....

Everyday I wake up alone, wish you were with me
Every time I call your phone, I hope you miss me
I hope that you want me like I want you
But I think you don't, I'm on this road
A trail of sorrow and misery when I think of you
I fail at trying to live without you, I doubt you
Would ever want me, so I think fallacies
About you hatin' me and I want to cry
But there just aren't enough tears in this world
And it breaks me down inside, just to be your girl
I'd always try so hard to be the best in your eyes
I know you will be my demise so why do I try....

It's just...sometimes the way you talk to me, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to think. The way you phrase things, the things you do.

The way you talk, sometimes I feel you want me
Other times, it hurts, seems like you snub me
I don't understand whats goin' on behind your eyes
But if you let me in, I'd help you, I'd fight for a night
Just being with you, just seeing you, sleeping next to you
I love you so much that if you knew it would wreck you
I hope it ends the way it should, but I'll never know
If you don't let me in now, I've helped you grow
Now help me live, help me hope, help me breathe
Finally realize what you mean to me, hold me as I sleep
I need you, I hope you need me, please believe me..

One day I will look back on this and laugh... It will be how it's meant to be. And you will be happy. That is all that's important...

thinking too much?

I feel like I can see everything and I know what's going to happen and it's completely obvious. And then I can see myself and it kind of scares me, but I don't know why.

And my throat gets like a lump in it and my chest tightens up like it always used to when I used to get panic attacks a lot.

And I can remember tons of stuff that I never normally remember and it kinda scares me.

And then I remember dreams that I have over and over again and they finally make sense, but the more I think about them, the less sense they make.

And then I think about all of my friends and I can't figure out if I'm being a good friend or a bad friend and some of them I can't figure out why they like me so much and others I can't figure out why they don't.

And everything I can't do seems easy.

And everything I can do seems hard.

And everything that's simple has a complex answer.

And everything that's complex has a simple answer.

And I never quite know where I'm going to go from there.

I just want you to be happy.

Sometimes I really do wonder what I am to you. Your best friend, someone to talk to when times are rough, just another dumb girl. I used to think I knew what I wanted. I really did. Maybe I did know what I wanted, maybe it just changed. But what I really want...I want you to be as happy as you possibly can, whether that is with or without me. If it was my choice, I'd keep you around forever. I would. Through anything, no matter what. You know that. And to be 100% honest, I think you know more than I give you credit for, but sometimes it's easier to pretend you don't know, to pretend you don't understand. You know, I'm writing this, hoping with all my heart that it's something you will never ever see. Cause you will know it's about you. There's no question about that. There is nobody else it could be about. You know how I feel. And...I know how you feel about that :/. It's just...sometimes the way you talk to me, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to think. The way you phrase things, the things you do. But that's ok. Everything will end up the way it's supposed to. One day I will look back on this and laugh. I'll visit you and your family and everything will be ok :) It will be how it's meant to be. And you will be happy. That is all that's important :).

All dressed up, no place to run
No car, no girl, no pills, no fun
Nothing to do in this empty room
I gotta get my head together soon

Alone again, no plans, no friends
You come around at half past ten
You say "How are you holding up my friend?
Are you sitting around getting drunk again?"

And I hear the desperation of those lines
Wasted hours, others wasted time
Uh, yeah, I been just fine!

Then we're out the door in an hour more
We stumble down from the second floor
And we're swaying, braying
We don't know what we're saying

And you grab my shirt, your way so curt
I swear to God that this doesn't hurt
When you stare like that, you put on that act
You say something and then you take it back

And I feel as though I've done something wrong
Oh, how I miss you when you're gone

And I wish I had the guts to scream
You know, things aren't always what they seem
When you walk away, I want to stay
Don't leave me here to pace and pray

All these nights I burnt, hours I turned
You think that by now I'd learnt
That you're only what you pretend to be
I guess that was just lost on me

I can't stand the way you look at me
In that dress
Oh, happy, alright I might be, I guess
If I wasn't such a mess

I'm such a mess
I'm such a mess
I'm such a mess
I'm such a mess

Wow

I mean seriously. Wow.

Rainbows are probably one of the most outstanding symbols to me. I've written why previously. Today I came across probably the most amazing rainbow picture I have ever seen in my life and I just had to save it and share it.

April 27, 2007

Dear God,

I have a message for my mother.

Can you tell her I love her?

Could you tell her I miss her?

Would you let her know we're fine?

Tell her Daddy doesn't cry so much anymore

Tell her we're almost all moved into our new house,

Tell her many people miss her.

I had never seen Grandpa cry.

I'll never forget her lying on the floor as she died.

Tell her the funeral was tough,

Tell her her family was here.

Tell her I'm sorry I teased her about not reaching her 50th year.

My birthday party was fun,

Though there was one thing it lacked,

And hanging over Christmas was a shadow that was black.

These four months and six days have gone,

Running by in a flash,

But sometimes it seems like forever

As time creeps slowly past.

Tell her my guilt is gone,

Tell her I know it was wrong.

Tell her I'm sorry for the things that I've done,

The heartache I put her through,

If she were still here today, much of it I wouldn't do.

Tell her I'll see her someday,

Tell her I know that she's proud,

And tell her again that I love her,

And I know that from the clouds

She's watching me.

Amen.

Chasing Rainbows

It's been almost exactly a year since I wrote this...which is interesting.


I was awakened by several large thumps coming from just outside my door. A quick glance at the clock told me how early it was, and groaning, I rolled over and covered my head with the pillow. It was Christmas break and I didn't have to be up for a couple more hours. The thumps were growing louder, and then suddenly there was a huge crash. I got out of bed prepared to tell off my cousin for trying to get me up so early during the holidays. Upon opening my door, however, I got an unpleasant surprise. My dad and uncle were attempting to get my mother down the stairs. Forgetting my fatigue and momentary irritation with my cousin, I began to help them in whatever way I could. About ten minutes later, we had her lying down at the bottom of the stairs, her body made as comfortable as possibly with numerous pillows, her head and neck supported by my dad. After deciding that there was no way to get her to the car, my aunt called the ambulance to come and get her. They arrived fairly quickly, but in what seemed at the time to be forever. By this time my sister was awake and watching what was going on. As she and my parents were visiting for the holidays, she was sleeping in the basement with my cousin, Jessica, while my parents had Jessica's room. My aunt, knowing Deborah would not be able to stomach everything, sent us back downstairs to wake Jessica and stay there for a while. We sat on the bed shivering with cold down in the basement. Jessica stroking Deborah's hair and whispering comforting words, Deborah with tears streaming down her white face, and me sitting there listening to Jessica and thinking about how she would be surprised. About thirty minutes later, my aunt came down to tell us that my dad had gone with my mom to the hospital and that she herself would be leaving shortly. We spent the rest of the morning cleaning up the house in preparation for Josh's return from boot camp. The rest of our tasks were finished very light-heartedly and we proceeded to watch one of our favorite TV shows. It was in this way that my dad and grandmother found us several hours later. Sitting on the couch. Me, Jessica, and Deborah, all sitting in a row. They walked in and I paused the show. Jessica got up and went to the kitchen; Julie had just come down the stairs. My dad walked over and kneeled in front of us. The next words he spoke are words I will never forget, his voice cracking as he said them:
"Girls, mommy has gone to be with the Lord."
The groan that came out of my sister as she fell against him was something I never want to hear again. They held each other and cried. I sat and stared at the face of the character Lexi, frozen on my laptop screen, and wondered how things would ever be normal again. I vaguely felt the couch cushion move next to me as Jessica sat down and took my hand. Instantly something clicked in my head.
"I have to go finish cleaning up my room so Josh can stay there," I said.
"Yes, you should do that," replied my dad.
When I got over there, Julie was standing on the staircase crying. She offered to help me, and the two of us went up and tidied up my room. Then I cleaned up the house a bit more. Then I took out the trash. Then I tried to repair the fence that fell over in the recent wind storms. It fell over once more, so I put it up again but to no avail. Looking up from the fallen fence, I noticed the cats playing with each other in the grass. Julie walked out of the house and was watching me. Jessica was in the side yard talking on the phone. I chased the cats to the back of the house, Julie following me. I heard her mutter under her breath how carefree I seemed. Standing in the backyard, I looked up into the sky. There, starting at the very edge of our garden, was a rainbow. Grinning, I turned to Julie and told her about rainbows.
"You know," I said, "I heard somewhere that when someone dies, God sends a rainbow to take them up to heaven. Well, there's the rainbow."

Wondering :/

There's this boy that I know
He's the best one I've met.
I think I might like him
But I'm not sure just yet.
When we talk to each other
He's the only one I see,
But what I'm wondering is
Does he really like me?

PET PEEVE

I don't like it when songs from the same CD in itunes have a higher play count than others. It is really annoying. Yes, this is small and stupid. But it is still highly irritating. And yes, I do fix this by playing the same songs over and over until they are all at the same count.

???

People say the best thing you can do for your friends is pray for them. Does that mean if I don't pray for them then I'm not doing what is best? That's a pretty redundant question. But...by not praying for them, does that mean I don't care as much?

Happy Birthday

This is probably the most amazing blog entry I have ever read in my entire life:


i like birthdays. i like them more for other people but i'm glad we celebrate them. At the heart of it is the opportunity to tell someone "I'm glad that you were born", which is also to say "I'm glad that you're alive." Those are powerful statements. The world would be a different better place if we lived that way, if we said and showed those things, more than once a year.

i hope TWLOHA can be something like that, an attempt to say those things more often, to say that we are thankful for life and stories and certainly yours. i hope that we can be something like a gift, something like a favorite song or some show that you remember, some piece of hope or life or strength to hold against the walls when they feel cracked or falling. i hope we can be a reminder that life is worth fighting for, that your friends and family are worth fighting for, that love and beauty still happen, that change still happens. We'll only ever be part of the process, words on a screen in the middle of the night - i hope they find you like a friend. A t-shirt pulled from one of your drawers early on a tired silent morning - i hope you feel less alone when you look in the mirror. i hope it reminds you of community, that you're part of a bigger thing. i hope it sparks some conversation that brings change like a fire on the coldest night.

You'll need more than us. You'll need more and better. You'll need other people. You'll need people to help you process, people to help you let go, people to help you remember what's true and people to help you forget what's lies. You'll need the stories and advice of people with gray hair or white hair or no hair at all. Don't buy the lie that suggests they have nothing to offer or nothing to say - they were young once too. They are stories still going and they've seen the places you will go. They've been stuck at times as well, just like you and me and everyone.

You'll need coffee shops and sunsets and road trips. Airplanes and passports and new songs and old songs, but people more than anything else. You will need other people and you will need to be that other person to someone else, a living breathing screaming invitation to believe better things.

We're saying the story doesn't end here, that the air in your lungs is there for a reason. Perhaps we're all in the business of better endings, you as much as us, the business of redemption. Yours and mine and all the characters around us, and perhaps that bigger thing. i'll steal from Bono here and tell you that i believe we're far from alone in this, that God's been at this for a long time, this business of buying things back, making things new. If this is starting to sound too Churchy or spiritual, i'll simply say that i believe God gives a shit, about your life, about your story, about your pain. And if those possibilities feel too far or they just sound weird, then rest now and we'll get back to people.

We give a shit.

The darkness wins too often. Broken things build themselves in silence. People feel alone. People give up. People talk about this stuff like it's math or they don't talk about it at all.

So what are we doing? Why this page? Why the shirts? Why did a group of young people put their lives on hold and move to Florida a week ago? Why would they trade everything they know, all their normal comfort and quiet, for a crowded house and endless hours of this word "community"? Why would they want to join a conversation that most people run from?

We're trying to fight for people with kindness, with words that move, with honesty and creativity. We're trying to push back at suicide with compassion, with hope. We're pointing to wisdom, pointing to medicine, saying that hope is real, help is real. We're fighting for our own stories, our own friends and families, our own broken hearts. We're saying there's nothing we can't talk about, nothing off-limits. We're kicking elephants out of living rooms, making room for life.

You. It's about you. This is for you. It's crap unless it moves you, crap unless it connects with your story, meets you in your pain, reminds you of your dreams, reminds you what's possible.

We're still alive, you see. You and i on this night that's never happened before. Spread out across a giant circle, winter on one side and summer on the other, day and night the same. And then it moves and turns and changes. Things are always changing.

We are glad that you were born.
We are glad that you're alive.

Don't give up. Don't give up on your story. Don't give up on the people you love. Hope is real. Love is real. It's all worth fighting for.

Peace to you tonight.
jamie

PS: If you're wondering where the heck this came from, i turned 29 today. It's enough to make you think... : ) Off to meet the boys at Texas Roadhouse. Gonna catch a B.L.O.R.R. show after that.

PS2: You absolutely must see the new Coldplay video for "Life in Technicolor II". Prepare to smile.

Letter

September 29, 2008

Excerpt from my journal/a letter I wrote to a couple people.


Dear friend,

I don't know what's happening. I don't know where it's going. I definitely don't understand any of it.

There are things out there that are bigger than you or me, and somehow that makes everything ok.

I'm not sure what I'm doing. I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be. I feel like I'm in hell. I feel like I'm in heaven. I don't even know where I'm going in life.

Except for forward. It has to be forward.

And as I wrote in that book that quite possibly no one will ever read, but if anyone ever does, you will be among the few,

"But what I do know is that I am here, I am alive, and for some reason I am doing quite well. I know that I will never understand all that has happened to me and I will also never understand why."

And for some reason, everything's ok.

And for some reason, no matter how many times I say it's ok, I can't quite convince myself.

And it never is.

:) :) :)

Tina comes tomorrow!!! :D

KoL

So I've started playing this game, Kingdom of Loathing. It's pretty fun as a game, challenging and makes you think and whatnot. I like games like that. But I think I prefer the chat to the game. I'm normally not into talking to people I meet online...used to tell my sister to stop it all the time cause it can be not safe. But...I'm not sure. Some of the people I've met are just so amazing and interesting and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't change that decision for the world.