Monday, August 5, 2013

Genome pool

DIf you take a rose and paint it purple, you will still have the same rose.
If you break that rose, find a new one and paint it purple.
It always be a different rose.

Change

A verb and noun.
It means to make something different, the process of alteration.

So many people focus so much thought into the matter. Few and far between do you find the unique individual who would rather simply ask and observe.

I find many days where I am bothered by the question of 'why'.

"You have changed."
"You use to be different."

I find these days it's almost impossible to be myself with anyone I know, set aside a few individuals during select times. When I sit in my car alone, I'm more comforted than I am with a loved one in my arms. Beneath the uncertainty of a rolling steel chassis, I find not shelter, but a voice.

With two ears I listen to each word I silently speak. I sit on the cement to see with two eyes the view of a stray cat. I feed you, groom you, and expect nothing in return from you. Silly cat, can you not see me with your own two eyes? Can you not hear each of my words with your own two ears?

The words softly echo off a nearby fence and ricochet into my ears,  my voice softens not out of shame, fear or anxiety, but from empathy. I stroke your back to remove the dirt you have laced upon yourself. You walk away into the night without second thought.

I think back on the times I chose not to speak because I learned that I do not always have the right words.

I think back on the times I chose to speak with confidence, but was easily ignored.
I think back on the things I told others with faith that they would try to gather more understanding or be accepting rather than quixotic.

If people stopped focusing so much on change, maybe they would see what hasn't changed. The essence of who I am is adamant. Stronger than diamond or alloy, relentless in its behaviors. Yet the strength of essence is not the essence itself.

An honest smile and heartfelt words are extended by rarity now. An elderly couple about to exit a store, a man with a small dog on a bridge, a boy who is looking for activity amidst a broken life. These people have seen because they looked, they didn't understand yet, were accepting.

Why don't you stop talking with a single mouth.
try to see with two eyes,
Hear with both ears.
There is a vast world that will  strike you blind and deaf instantly.
You deserve it.

While you have chose to live your life, I have lived mine.

So far, I can honestly say I have yet to change for anyone or any reason.

Can you say the same?

The stray cat comes back nightly, knowing I will be there, speak softly, groom gently and be accepting. The same as I have always been, haven't you noticed?
I have slowly worked through my experiences, each sleepless night is another haunting nightmare, time which I spent alone without telling you thoughts or ideas that pulse through my veins.

Change?

No.

This is growth.

Silent, patient, unyielding

Ella, have you changed or have you grown? Tell me. For the love of god, tell me you grow stronger instead of finding comfort in the fresh pages of a new and different book.

My pages are a collaboration of effort and willpower.
My language is still the same.
Can't you see this?

How much self sacrifice does it take before you run dry? Is it worth the risk?
Tell me what do you sacrifice daily? What do you know of drought?

J.

How many times will my friends see me look down before they realize I'm still looking up? How many unspoken words will they hear? I wonder how your perspective would change if you saw a subtle shade of blue rise and fall with each moment. How this shade is perceptive and analytical, yet understanding and steady in motion. The kindness it holds can never be drown out or covered because it leaks through every crack and ever seam, every window and door that grant access.

Yet the devotion it shows is never enough to keep you interested.

No, you are like the cat. Only come to be fed, groomed and to hear comforting words at the end of each cycle. But even the cat knows more. it has come back to be fed, groomed and inevitably listen to carefully chosen and softly spoken words.

If I had a cool catch phrase that people used to identify me, the most commonly used phrase would be "the welcome mat that smiles back!".

Friday, August 2, 2013

J. Never Had A Name For You

Ella again:

I hate how people change. Goodness knows we all need to change or else how dull would life be? But there are some people I could still be the best of friends with, still see every single day of my life but they have changed so very much that I actually miss them, like they'd gone somewhere far, far away. 

It takes so much for me to realize that how they were, how they are now and how they will eventually be are all THEM. It all counts towards who they are. And you know what....

... that bites....

...it really really does. 

Accept. Exist. Move forward. Change. Accept... the cycle goes on. 

A 02:00 Call and tears that aren't swept away by your hand but by your strangely soothing voice has uncorked the bottled up thoughts, and though this message is brief, it is so heavy for me right now. 

J. and J.'s friend: my gosh, I miss you both!!

Saturday, April 13, 2013

It Happened Again - From Ella

Some turn to drugs or alcohol or sex for "that" feeling. Me?

I turn to boys.

Not for sex. Not for perks. Not even to just be able to say "I have a boyfriend." No. I need to have someone there for me, someone telling me they love me, that I'm beautiful. Someone who will show me off and be proud of me. I just need that.

And here is the problem:

I base my identity off that. And one month to the date, the hour even, I ended another relationship.

Just.
Like.
That.

Amount of time single before relationship: 1 month
Amount of time in relationship: 1 month
Length of time since last relationship: 2 months.

There are so many pieces of me that I am just dust blowing around.

~Ella~

Monday, April 8, 2013

Shreds

I am surrounded by scraps of blank paper
None of them whole
None belonging to a binding
Scattered like leaves on the floor

I hold a pencil in my hand
It is a nub in my numb fingers
I shake to write 
This paper is so precious

It is all I have left to communicate

A million thoughts fly around in my head
They all stop when I try to express them
Precious paper
Precious pencil

I begin writing
Dear
My Dear
To my Dear
To my Dearest
Friend
My Friend
To my Friend

Nothing is right.
I am trying to reply to a thank you note
I don't know what gift I gave
Or If I even gave one.

Leaded lids lower over my eyes
Distance and silence mock me
I am awake because I am curious
I care.

Thank you for what?
It's like my mind knows where to look, I always see a message in white on black, just after it is painted after not speaking to the artist for too long a time. 

Thursday, April 4, 2013

i check my pulse,
there is not a 2 stroke beat
my heart throbs violently like a sluggish diesel engine.

soothing, comforting, relieving....
so  many days i have been without sleep
somehow this drug is keeping me a float

both my car and my bedside are lined with sweets,
a tangled mess like im trying to comfort myself with such release

somehow i feel alright
like this  is much less pain
than is it delight

I check my pulse,
a gentle rhythm forms again
im reminded of how i am human...


finally i can sleep again...thank you...

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Charged Like A Battery.

First thing's first: J!!! MESSAGE ME AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS! I THOUGHT YOU WEREN'T LEAVING YET OR MAYBE I AM JUST CONFUSED!!!

OK, now that that is done I need to get at my venting because I have a lot to just pour out. This is the best way I know how.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Sometimes I forget I am wearing makeup until I cry. My tears today were of sweet release and realization that everything is in God's hands and I am His. The past week, though we're only halfway through has been less like a roller coaster with all of its twists and turns and more like the Sky Screamer... It will blast you up and blast you down. I feel manic.

When I'm out - in class, with friends or just being social - I'm a ball of energy feeding off the bodies around me to the point when it is no longer a buzz within my chest but a bounce in my feet or a twitch of my arm. It has to come out, it has to! I'm charging, charging chargingcharging chargingchargingcharging!!!!

I'm alone.

When I'm in - at home, in my bedroom away from the outside - I have that same energy. Only the ball of fuzzy feelings that rose up in my chest when i was out is pressing outwards like a bottle of pop which hasn't been opened but has still had the hell shaken out of it. It has nowhere to go though, no way of exploding so that energy implodes and it implodes on me. It then becomes a mass that drops from my chest into my stomach, pulling my thoughts down with it.

Tears well up. Tears I haven't cried since that night when everything ended.

So now the ball has been reduced to tears and I need to recharge again. Except for this time it is different. A calm has settled over me like the way pop bubbles disappear after a while, slowly tickling your nose as you drink it freshly poured...

It's different because I am reminded of something. I am reminded of the girl I used to be 6 years ago when nothing mattered. When I was so on fire for God and I didn't give two shakes about who looked at me crossways for it. And here I am again, reminded I am still his and I always have been. The fire is being stoked again. It never really went out, it wasn't even reduced to a hot ember, I know it stayed a flame but now I want to be an inferno!

That ball of energy isn't the same. Yes it needs to be charged by people but that is only going to get it so far. In order for it to be a full, green blinking battery it needs to reach out to the Source.

Tomorrow will be a night of worship and fellowship. I expect a full battery and then some.. an overflowing cup of fizzing pop! Yes, tomorrow will be good. So very good.

That was much too literal but I needed a vent. Miss you, J.

~Ella.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Dip and dive, swerve and slam the breaks. another silly driver, another close call. thinking about the move is odd. i dont want to imagine it, the drive, the first few days, staying in a motel till i arrive. thinking of driving through dakota again, where i almost died the first time. maybe another driver will strike me off the road.. maybe this time i will die.. bringing a harmonious end to a life so short yet long experienced. i cat say i want to die, yet i wouldnt be opposed if thats how i went. the fear of a vehicle breaking down, being stranded in the middle of nowhere. Saskatchewan does that to you~ lol whats the worst that could happen? a tragic accident that leaves me broken? death? possibly the worst case could be that i live and make it there lol PLANS: Law enforcement. just do it Matt.