farewell Germany...
i do hope to come back...
wouldn't mind staying...
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
relief through deconstruction... well kind of.
last night in germany...
i'm going to miss this place terribly, the hospitable people, the land, the culture, the way of life, the food.
but i am ready to go to camp.
maybe not home, but camp.
...even though two of my favorite people no longer work there.
*sigh*
i just can't comprehend it...
at all...
great scot...
such a difficult situation, after 20 years to ship them out in such a way just for personnel changes...
-hours later-
all packed, underweight bag, and i have gained 8 pounds since arriving here.
Germany feeds me well...
then again, i had ice cream, a roll with nutella and rasberry jam, and 12-fruit juice before weighing myself so i could weight myself with my bag...
this helps with the 20 pound i lost last school year.
random:
i may seem to be right all the time, but i don't have to be right...
i just realized today how key that is.
i'm right (not all the time, but great scot...) yet it's not important to me.
i suppose that with as much as my mind has going on that i can't help but have so many notions that i'm right.
i've just experienced in my life people being ticked at me being right, and pouncing on me for being wrong.
suppose being wrong was never acceptable...
hmm...
great scot, i need to be up at 6:30, 3.5 hours of sleep tonight..
can't clarify the thought i have, too tired... sore all over aswell, suppose a few hours of soccer, practically tackling people for the ball, and climbing that rock wall a few times will do that to a person...
random:
dear lindsay,
STOP MESSING WITH YOUR ACNE.
find a new nervous habit.
get a chain for your favorite crown of thorns necklace and fidget about with that.
signed,
your sunburned/bleeding/oily face.
i'm going to miss this place terribly, the hospitable people, the land, the culture, the way of life, the food.
but i am ready to go to camp.
maybe not home, but camp.
...even though two of my favorite people no longer work there.
*sigh*
i just can't comprehend it...
at all...
great scot...
such a difficult situation, after 20 years to ship them out in such a way just for personnel changes...
-hours later-
all packed, underweight bag, and i have gained 8 pounds since arriving here.
Germany feeds me well...
then again, i had ice cream, a roll with nutella and rasberry jam, and 12-fruit juice before weighing myself so i could weight myself with my bag...
this helps with the 20 pound i lost last school year.
random:
i may seem to be right all the time, but i don't have to be right...
i just realized today how key that is.
i'm right (not all the time, but great scot...) yet it's not important to me.
i suppose that with as much as my mind has going on that i can't help but have so many notions that i'm right.
i've just experienced in my life people being ticked at me being right, and pouncing on me for being wrong.
suppose being wrong was never acceptable...
hmm...
great scot, i need to be up at 6:30, 3.5 hours of sleep tonight..
can't clarify the thought i have, too tired... sore all over aswell, suppose a few hours of soccer, practically tackling people for the ball, and climbing that rock wall a few times will do that to a person...
random:
dear lindsay,
STOP MESSING WITH YOUR ACNE.
find a new nervous habit.
get a chain for your favorite crown of thorns necklace and fidget about with that.
signed,
your sunburned/bleeding/oily face.
Monday, May 30, 2011
this isn't how it's supposed to be...
today i looked into the mirror to see if one of my band mates was right about my eyes seeming to change color with what i was wearing...
my blue KU shirt made my eyes so ridiculously blue.
i remembered the look in his eyes as he said 'don't hate me.'
...i think i do now.
...i don't like it.
but as long as i don't let it affect who i am, don't wish him any harm, and graciously show it the door i will not be worse for the wear.
...i think i do now.
...i don't like it.
but as long as i don't let it affect who i am, don't wish him any harm, and graciously show it the door i will not be worse for the wear.
is this how it's supposed to be...
most definitely going to miss my host family...
i kind of had two hosts, my host lived in an old renovated barn with her husband; her adult daughter visited often.
the other host and the girl she was hosting stayed with my host... so three band members, two choir members, and her husband.
there was a language barrier with my host mom, but we got along well even though she spoke very little english. yesterday as we were hiking in the forest with the rest of the group i picked a dandelion and blew the seeds off of it, then gave her one to do the same. i had a daisy in my hair, she liked it and picked a small purple flower in my hair. it was nice :)
aha, and a few nights ago (we stayed four nights there) while we were talking around the coffee table and i was kind of picking at my acne... nervous habit... she had kind of smiled and shook her head at me, indicating not to pick at it, then she just said 'ah, come' and i followed her upstairs. she pulled out a large bottle of brown alcohol type stuff, said 'grandmas old remedy' and showed me how to put it on with a q-tip. she said a lot in german that i did not understand, but we get a lot though the few words we have in common, sound effects, and motions, haha! of course a lot of people here seem to talk that way, i quite like it... interesting... wonderful host family :)
when my host 'mom' said goodbye, she hugged me, then pulled me aside and said 'you are a wonderful girl, ah, woman... this *motions to face implying acne* not so important. and no more! (picking at it)
i'll miss her...
it was like having a mom for a while.
i didn't realize the difference between my mom and a mom that makes you lunches with a psalm stuck in the bag, to tell you that you are wonderful and acne doesn't matter, to pick a flower for your hair and blow the seeds off a dandelion you pick.
marion has only been a Christian since may 1st...
a lot of the choir members are not Christian, they just join because they wish to sing a different style of music in english. the choir director here is doing such wonderful work...
at anyrate, i hope to be a mom like her if i ever am one.
i love my mom, but...
INTJ, what can i say.
and even if she told me i was wonderful it doesn't really mean anything, sadly enough...
i think the closest to that kind of relationship my mom and i got was when i told her that he went back to his old girlfriend and i didn't feel like going to that wedding. she told people i just wasn't feeling well, said i didn't have to go, and nothing more was said.
of course a week later she was herself again and... yeah.
i suppose i can think of another time when i was eight or something... perhaps ten... no, seven?
it was my birthday and that night i found myself trying to fall asleep in tears because i didn't want to grow up. i was comfortable. i had my dogs, my cats, my ferrets, time would take them away from me, time would ruin the simple pleasures that i had, it would take my grandparents, it would take away my grandparents house and the haven that it was for me, it would no longer mean rolling around in roller blades pretending to play hockey and imagining that my favorite player from the team near me was my older brother...
random:
i just remembered today that my high school band director, that plays hockey, told me once to never date a hockey player.
whoops.
should have followed his advice...
at anyrate, just talking to her then even though it was weird helped.
...and i think that's about it.
...
have i ever really gone to my parents with a problem?
i suppose a lot of people do, but i'll wager there are plenty that don't...
then again, i go to no one... so...
today we hung out at a youth center for a good deal of the day; that and being at the rehab center kind of made me think of how i really love being a positive influence on kids, just being there if they need me, trying to live a life that it's okay for them to look up to, not doing anything wrong, living a clean life...
how does that call fit into what i am preparing to do for a job, whatever that is?
...
i haven't a clue.
wait, i just remembered that once upon a time i had considered youth ministry.
but really, i can't see me doing that as a job.
well, camp but that's different.
i'd like to incorporate it, but how?
tonight and then one more night in germany...
i'm going to miss it greatly...
mmm, the fields with lush grass, poppies dotting the landscape, fields of yellow flowers...
how dandelions are not a common yet small daisies litter the ground...
so many gardens...
why did my family leave here?
long day, tired indeed... played football (real football) with band members... actually did well even though i kinda checked several of them... heh. i'm kind of rough in sports... do i need to body slam the opposing team mate? no. but does it get me the soccer ball? yes.
ha, one of the trumpet players kicked the ball hard...
went right into my knee.
i had a soccer-ball shaped imprint, pentagons/hexagons and all. i think one pentagon and then six hexagons around it...
i had hoped it would bruise that way yet after a lot of scrubbing the dirt washed away and it was gone.
pity i'm so hard to bruise, that would have been epic.
at anyrate, i have earned my rest however short it may be...
shower first however,
AGH!
spider...
in my bed...
i don't mind spiders but unexpected ones on me...
he's gone now.
after several hits with my laptop he's down for the count.
now i'm going to be paranoid all night...
yeesh...
well, i shall try to have a good night's rest regardless...
so tired, two concerts tomorrow...
then pack like a mad-man trying to get my checked bag underweight and sort out my souvenirs...
great scot, my hosts from the choir gave each girl they hosted twenty euros, about $30...
...not sure where to spend it in the next two days...
suppose i'll end up exchanging it...
good night to the world and i pray that six hours of sleep is sufficient...
back is sore...
a member of the band gave me a back massage, she couldn't believe the state my back was in, she sat there for twenty minutes massaging my back because she felt terrible that i had to live with that...
after a lot of various people felt my back it was decided that i needed to start saving money for a full body massage.
just rest, please...
rest...
shower and then settle into (a spider-free) bed...
Lord, when settling into bed and waking up in the morning can happen without negative thoughts to kill me...
just please.
this morning wasn't pleasant, yet this afternoon was quite nice, the skatepark, a walk, barbecue, just hanging out... wonderful break from terrible thoughts... i may be spent but i am kind of being myself outwardly...
oh, and when we all shared stuff today...
i think i said too much...
but Lord i think i said what You wanted me to.
i hadn't a clue what to say but when they said 'no pain no gain' i felt You telling me 'now you can ramble about pain being addicting.'
that feeling welling up inside that you just have to speak...
i still get nervous about saying my mind like that, yet when i feel like that i know that even if it didn't come out the way i had hoped that it was what You wanted me to let out.
still felt like a bit much...
rest...
agh, and stop messing with the acne, make marion happy...
hey Lord, could the acne at least be gone by september? i do not wish to being my twenties with acne.
even if some people thought i was 24 despite my acne.
...not sure that i look that old, but alright.
ah, okay, now rest...
i kind of had two hosts, my host lived in an old renovated barn with her husband; her adult daughter visited often.
the other host and the girl she was hosting stayed with my host... so three band members, two choir members, and her husband.
there was a language barrier with my host mom, but we got along well even though she spoke very little english. yesterday as we were hiking in the forest with the rest of the group i picked a dandelion and blew the seeds off of it, then gave her one to do the same. i had a daisy in my hair, she liked it and picked a small purple flower in my hair. it was nice :)
aha, and a few nights ago (we stayed four nights there) while we were talking around the coffee table and i was kind of picking at my acne... nervous habit... she had kind of smiled and shook her head at me, indicating not to pick at it, then she just said 'ah, come' and i followed her upstairs. she pulled out a large bottle of brown alcohol type stuff, said 'grandmas old remedy' and showed me how to put it on with a q-tip. she said a lot in german that i did not understand, but we get a lot though the few words we have in common, sound effects, and motions, haha! of course a lot of people here seem to talk that way, i quite like it... interesting... wonderful host family :)
when my host 'mom' said goodbye, she hugged me, then pulled me aside and said 'you are a wonderful girl, ah, woman... this *motions to face implying acne* not so important. and no more! (picking at it)
i'll miss her...
it was like having a mom for a while.
i didn't realize the difference between my mom and a mom that makes you lunches with a psalm stuck in the bag, to tell you that you are wonderful and acne doesn't matter, to pick a flower for your hair and blow the seeds off a dandelion you pick.
marion has only been a Christian since may 1st...
a lot of the choir members are not Christian, they just join because they wish to sing a different style of music in english. the choir director here is doing such wonderful work...
at anyrate, i hope to be a mom like her if i ever am one.
i love my mom, but...
INTJ, what can i say.
and even if she told me i was wonderful it doesn't really mean anything, sadly enough...
i think the closest to that kind of relationship my mom and i got was when i told her that he went back to his old girlfriend and i didn't feel like going to that wedding. she told people i just wasn't feeling well, said i didn't have to go, and nothing more was said.
of course a week later she was herself again and... yeah.
i suppose i can think of another time when i was eight or something... perhaps ten... no, seven?
it was my birthday and that night i found myself trying to fall asleep in tears because i didn't want to grow up. i was comfortable. i had my dogs, my cats, my ferrets, time would take them away from me, time would ruin the simple pleasures that i had, it would take my grandparents, it would take away my grandparents house and the haven that it was for me, it would no longer mean rolling around in roller blades pretending to play hockey and imagining that my favorite player from the team near me was my older brother...
random:
i just remembered today that my high school band director, that plays hockey, told me once to never date a hockey player.
whoops.
should have followed his advice...
at anyrate, just talking to her then even though it was weird helped.
...and i think that's about it.
...
have i ever really gone to my parents with a problem?
i suppose a lot of people do, but i'll wager there are plenty that don't...
then again, i go to no one... so...
today we hung out at a youth center for a good deal of the day; that and being at the rehab center kind of made me think of how i really love being a positive influence on kids, just being there if they need me, trying to live a life that it's okay for them to look up to, not doing anything wrong, living a clean life...
how does that call fit into what i am preparing to do for a job, whatever that is?
...
i haven't a clue.
wait, i just remembered that once upon a time i had considered youth ministry.
but really, i can't see me doing that as a job.
well, camp but that's different.
i'd like to incorporate it, but how?
tonight and then one more night in germany...
i'm going to miss it greatly...
mmm, the fields with lush grass, poppies dotting the landscape, fields of yellow flowers...
how dandelions are not a common yet small daisies litter the ground...
so many gardens...
why did my family leave here?
long day, tired indeed... played football (real football) with band members... actually did well even though i kinda checked several of them... heh. i'm kind of rough in sports... do i need to body slam the opposing team mate? no. but does it get me the soccer ball? yes.
ha, one of the trumpet players kicked the ball hard...
went right into my knee.
i had a soccer-ball shaped imprint, pentagons/hexagons and all. i think one pentagon and then six hexagons around it...
i had hoped it would bruise that way yet after a lot of scrubbing the dirt washed away and it was gone.
pity i'm so hard to bruise, that would have been epic.
at anyrate, i have earned my rest however short it may be...
shower first however,
AGH!
spider...
in my bed...
i don't mind spiders but unexpected ones on me...
he's gone now.
after several hits with my laptop he's down for the count.
now i'm going to be paranoid all night...
yeesh...
well, i shall try to have a good night's rest regardless...
so tired, two concerts tomorrow...
then pack like a mad-man trying to get my checked bag underweight and sort out my souvenirs...
great scot, my hosts from the choir gave each girl they hosted twenty euros, about $30...
...not sure where to spend it in the next two days...
suppose i'll end up exchanging it...
good night to the world and i pray that six hours of sleep is sufficient...
back is sore...
a member of the band gave me a back massage, she couldn't believe the state my back was in, she sat there for twenty minutes massaging my back because she felt terrible that i had to live with that...
after a lot of various people felt my back it was decided that i needed to start saving money for a full body massage.
just rest, please...
rest...
shower and then settle into (a spider-free) bed...
Lord, when settling into bed and waking up in the morning can happen without negative thoughts to kill me...
just please.
this morning wasn't pleasant, yet this afternoon was quite nice, the skatepark, a walk, barbecue, just hanging out... wonderful break from terrible thoughts... i may be spent but i am kind of being myself outwardly...
oh, and when we all shared stuff today...
i think i said too much...
but Lord i think i said what You wanted me to.
i hadn't a clue what to say but when they said 'no pain no gain' i felt You telling me 'now you can ramble about pain being addicting.'
that feeling welling up inside that you just have to speak...
i still get nervous about saying my mind like that, yet when i feel like that i know that even if it didn't come out the way i had hoped that it was what You wanted me to let out.
still felt like a bit much...
rest...
agh, and stop messing with the acne, make marion happy...
hey Lord, could the acne at least be gone by september? i do not wish to being my twenties with acne.
even if some people thought i was 24 despite my acne.
...not sure that i look that old, but alright.
ah, okay, now rest...
Sunday, May 29, 2011
the forest breathes life... yet weariness breathes dysfunction...
my host family is wonderful, as we were walking along...
great scot, i almost forgot to write about the forest...
and the daisies...
and the landscape...
and performing in churches that are hundreds of years old...
...
'tired' is indeed an understatement.
i shall go to bed and write tomorrow perhaps...
at anyrate, i feel a lot better about my lack of thought upon realizing how little time i have had on my own...
walking through the forest around the lake was wonderful...
*sigh*
it will not come out right.
i have no attention span.
when i am this tired and haven't been by myself for so long... the thoughts will not flow and just don't sound right... at all...
i feel compelled to say something, to be something, yet weariness and lack of life i fear drive it all from me.
i suppose i was warned at the beginning of the trip that this will wear you out.
suppose i'm so used to being tired that i didn't quite comprehend that.
eyes are heavy...
...
i wake up in 4.5 hours.
...
great scot, why, how, what?
Lord, please help camp to force me back into a more restful sleeping habit.
good night, this is ridiculous.
great scot, i almost forgot to write about the forest...
and the daisies...
and the landscape...
and performing in churches that are hundreds of years old...
...
'tired' is indeed an understatement.
i shall go to bed and write tomorrow perhaps...
at anyrate, i feel a lot better about my lack of thought upon realizing how little time i have had on my own...
walking through the forest around the lake was wonderful...
*sigh*
it will not come out right.
i have no attention span.
when i am this tired and haven't been by myself for so long... the thoughts will not flow and just don't sound right... at all...
i feel compelled to say something, to be something, yet weariness and lack of life i fear drive it all from me.
i suppose i was warned at the beginning of the trip that this will wear you out.
suppose i'm so used to being tired that i didn't quite comprehend that.
eyes are heavy...
...
i wake up in 4.5 hours.
...
great scot, why, how, what?
Lord, please help camp to force me back into a more restful sleeping habit.
good night, this is ridiculous.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
you wish you could dream but forgot to somehow...
i'm going to miss playing jazz with a full choir three feet behind me.
there's what, 70 people in this gospel choir?
and great scot, when we play 'in the mood' the entire crowd goes wild, the choir goes crazy even though they're not singing..
i'm really beginning to feel like a bassist; i'm doing well and am familiar enough with the songs to catch myself and not make mistakes too noticeable, i take my mistakes with grace and do not crash and burn to such that i'm hiding behind my two music stands... i embellish without thinking of it, my fret range is increasing and my dexerity is improving...
:)
took a boat tour of a lake today...
sitting on top where there were not any people was nice, peaceful...
haha, dancing like crazy and making the captain smile!
just looking over the edge at the water, dark lake water, but the blue sky and white clouds reflected in it... the waves were mesmerizing...
the countryside here is so beautiful it's ridiculous... so wonderful...
can i move here?
the food is better aswell... however i've eaten so much that i haven't been hungry in the least bit for the past week...
i love this country, the scenery, the people, the way of life... i know that i was kind of jealous of the honor students from my university that came here to study for a week and a half; yet i have had three weeks of living with the people, eating as they do, talking with them, laughing with them, learning which way is up in this part of the world... playing music and improving my bass skills while serving others through jazz...
ha, had i taken the full ride scholarship to play bass at that other college i never would have had this opportunity...
i also wouldn't have this knife in my back, but it seems that every upside has its respective casualties.
random:
well i hope what's his face enjoys actually knowing some of what i think.
no more 'mystery' huh?
okay, to clarify, cynicism is saying that he assumes this is all i think and he assumes he knows all.
haha, not even the half of it...
you know if he went back why did he really break up with her in the first place?
i'll remain 'immature' and have poor 'communication' skills.
i'll remain changing, thinking, unsure, wondering, varying yet constant, i shall be me.
...whatever that means...
i'm not sure, yet i've come to quite like it...
even if i stray from that from time to time, yet no one is perfect indeed...
and lately its so hard to be myself on paper, hmm...
there's what, 70 people in this gospel choir?
and great scot, when we play 'in the mood' the entire crowd goes wild, the choir goes crazy even though they're not singing..
i'm really beginning to feel like a bassist; i'm doing well and am familiar enough with the songs to catch myself and not make mistakes too noticeable, i take my mistakes with grace and do not crash and burn to such that i'm hiding behind my two music stands... i embellish without thinking of it, my fret range is increasing and my dexerity is improving...
:)
took a boat tour of a lake today...
sitting on top where there were not any people was nice, peaceful...
haha, dancing like crazy and making the captain smile!
just looking over the edge at the water, dark lake water, but the blue sky and white clouds reflected in it... the waves were mesmerizing...
the countryside here is so beautiful it's ridiculous... so wonderful...
can i move here?
the food is better aswell... however i've eaten so much that i haven't been hungry in the least bit for the past week...
i love this country, the scenery, the people, the way of life... i know that i was kind of jealous of the honor students from my university that came here to study for a week and a half; yet i have had three weeks of living with the people, eating as they do, talking with them, laughing with them, learning which way is up in this part of the world... playing music and improving my bass skills while serving others through jazz...
ha, had i taken the full ride scholarship to play bass at that other college i never would have had this opportunity...
i also wouldn't have this knife in my back, but it seems that every upside has its respective casualties.
random:
well i hope what's his face enjoys actually knowing some of what i think.
no more 'mystery' huh?
okay, to clarify, cynicism is saying that he assumes this is all i think and he assumes he knows all.
haha, not even the half of it...
you know if he went back why did he really break up with her in the first place?
i'll remain 'immature' and have poor 'communication' skills.
i'll remain changing, thinking, unsure, wondering, varying yet constant, i shall be me.
...whatever that means...
i'm not sure, yet i've come to quite like it...
even if i stray from that from time to time, yet no one is perfect indeed...
and lately its so hard to be myself on paper, hmm...
Friday, May 27, 2011
a great sense of life and needing to speak comes over you... and God pushes you out of the nest ever so slightly.
i'm weary of remarking upon how tired i am yet it's true indeed...
random:
great scot, google chrome translating german web pages to english is magical...
today...
was a good day.
to start with, when we were all sharing how God has been working in our lives.
a lot of people shared, i ended up being last but really felt i was being told to say something...
i didn't say a lot, i mean no one in band knows my story...
yet it felt nice to be able to say something and feel that i was supposed to, that it was okay, to have the words well up inside of you and just find yourself talking.
so many people have said this trip is about whats coming, wondering what will happen next in their lives...
for me it's where i've been, four years ago with the end of something and the beginning of something, this seems to be a formal ending to that beginning... yet in life there are many, many beginnings.
hard to say it all really, i said it earlier...
and somehow for the rest of the day i was myself.
people talked to me.
i was funny.
talked to people...
maybe they were just nicer to me once they had a slight insight into it all.
today we played in a cathedral really... seats a few hundred people, we packed the place... the choir we're singing with it wonderful, and i love my hosts...
the church is a couple hundred years old, large pipe organ, enormous painting in the front of the church...
...it was crooked.
i am not going to fix the 20ft tall picture frame.
i am not going to fix the 20ft tall picture frame with a priceless work of art in it.
i am not going to touch it.
...good thing it was behind me during the concert.
i played well... sometimes i just let loose and couldn't have hit the right notes were it not for You Lord, haha, indeed!
thank you for bass instinct kicking in.
so tired...
*random proof that i'm a silly girl*
for the past week or so i've been listening to 'lullaby' from jack johnson's curious george album...
it always calmed me, but then one day i thought 'whoever i end up with, it feels like he's singing this to me...'
i worded that so much better .02 seconds ago...
i like settling in and trying to go to sleep listening to that, whether i'm on the bus or in a host home.
settle in, carried away from the talons of despairing, hurting, sickening thoughts of him and into jack johnson's melodies...
i haven't much else to say that i can think of, i'm falling asleep on my keyboard...
you know, i'm beginning to feel like a real bassist.
and i'm an incredible paradox.
odd thing about INTJ and INFP
the hard wall of the INTJ makes your eyes hard, rigid, formed...
INFP fills them with wonder... ocean washing over the rocks...
Lord, You made adam from the dust of the earth...
and when You formed me You thought 'I have use the earth and now I will create someone from the sky and the seas, one that feels with the depth of the ocean and yet soars with the eagles...'
i over-romanticize it...
no, no i don't...
i'm not trying to sound deep or whatnot.
profound.
there are just certain ways of invoking understanding that i choose to use...
great scot, and now to bed...
sleep.
random:
great scot, google chrome translating german web pages to english is magical...
today...
was a good day.
to start with, when we were all sharing how God has been working in our lives.
a lot of people shared, i ended up being last but really felt i was being told to say something...
i didn't say a lot, i mean no one in band knows my story...
yet it felt nice to be able to say something and feel that i was supposed to, that it was okay, to have the words well up inside of you and just find yourself talking.
so many people have said this trip is about whats coming, wondering what will happen next in their lives...
for me it's where i've been, four years ago with the end of something and the beginning of something, this seems to be a formal ending to that beginning... yet in life there are many, many beginnings.
hard to say it all really, i said it earlier...
and somehow for the rest of the day i was myself.
people talked to me.
i was funny.
talked to people...
maybe they were just nicer to me once they had a slight insight into it all.
today we played in a cathedral really... seats a few hundred people, we packed the place... the choir we're singing with it wonderful, and i love my hosts...
the church is a couple hundred years old, large pipe organ, enormous painting in the front of the church...
...it was crooked.
i am not going to fix the 20ft tall picture frame.
i am not going to fix the 20ft tall picture frame with a priceless work of art in it.
i am not going to touch it.
...good thing it was behind me during the concert.
i played well... sometimes i just let loose and couldn't have hit the right notes were it not for You Lord, haha, indeed!
thank you for bass instinct kicking in.
so tired...
*random proof that i'm a silly girl*
for the past week or so i've been listening to 'lullaby' from jack johnson's curious george album...
it always calmed me, but then one day i thought 'whoever i end up with, it feels like he's singing this to me...'
i worded that so much better .02 seconds ago...
i like settling in and trying to go to sleep listening to that, whether i'm on the bus or in a host home.
settle in, carried away from the talons of despairing, hurting, sickening thoughts of him and into jack johnson's melodies...
i haven't much else to say that i can think of, i'm falling asleep on my keyboard...
you know, i'm beginning to feel like a real bassist.
and i'm an incredible paradox.
odd thing about INTJ and INFP
the hard wall of the INTJ makes your eyes hard, rigid, formed...
INFP fills them with wonder... ocean washing over the rocks...
Lord, You made adam from the dust of the earth...
and when You formed me You thought 'I have use the earth and now I will create someone from the sky and the seas, one that feels with the depth of the ocean and yet soars with the eagles...'
i over-romanticize it...
no, no i don't...
i'm not trying to sound deep or whatnot.
profound.
there are just certain ways of invoking understanding that i choose to use...
great scot, and now to bed...
sleep.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
"Why war still? Why hunger still? Why a world still?"
23 May
Beautiful countryside indeed…
Great scot it’s gorgeous…
Listened to some ‘Fiction Family’ and one song struck me; not all of the song applies, but I am ‘elements combined, earth, air, fire, wine…’
Random: I wonder if me possessing abs that my basketball playing friend would kill for even though I havne’t worked out in ages is part of why I’m so tense al the time… or a result of… under the girly layer of fat I pretty much have a six pack and I can’t figure out why…
Why yes I thought of this today, that’s how bored you get with such a long drive.
Jazz today…
Umm…
Practice was…
Well, we’ve had a bit of trouble with the amp. To test out the sound of the rhythm section we played the beginning of song 43 in our repertoire, I am yet to play that song well. Passable yes. Well, no. especially the beginning. I play soft and timidly due to that, I stumble and try to blend it all so nothing is noticed. I tried to play loud and the director told me to turn it up…
but the amp was up all the way…
he told me to play louder…
I tried…
He told me to play louder again as we stopped and restarted the song numerous times.
I said I can’t play that song very well…
He messed with the amp and told me to play louder…
As we went along and he said more I got more uncomfortable, messed up more, teared up (what was up with the crying… is it that time of the month? Wasn’t that two weeks ago? It was weird, my face was normal but my eyes had the water works… sure I was upset, but great scot why was I crying… suppose that in front of everybody was humiliating…) I just messed up more, would skip whole measures and have to wait for a chord I knew the placement of to jump in on…
We started again and again and again…
He got frustrated and said that we’ve played that song all tour, what’s so different that I can’t play it now… it was kind of bad...
The piano player tried to help, told me to play it just like CC in our rep, a song I do well on…
Eventually the director said just pick a song I can actually play…
And so CC it was…
I played it well despite my frustration with myself for crying for such a reason as that primarily, for messing up in the first place, for the director not listening…
The rest of the band was just quiet during it all…
The director did apologize to me and in front of everyone saying his behavior wasn’t right…
It’s okay, he’s toting about 22 college kids in germany; I can understand him being worn thin…
Crying, really Lindsay?
Ah well. My tear ducts are affected by hormones and girlish stuff even if my mind isn’t.
We played at a drug rehab clinic tonight, outside concert… it went well; it was nice to see people ride by on their bikes and stop to come listen, little girls walking their dogs watching at the fence…
24 May
Berlin.
Was here yesterday, yet today it comes into play.
Holocaust memorial.
I have boxes of books about the Holocaust; my sting with German obsession came through hearing about my family tree and reading dozens of Holocaust stories. I was intrigued by it all; how much destruction humans could cause and the callousness behind it… yet in all reality, I just found it all wildly interesting. I thought deeply then yet I didn’t quite fully realize what I was asking yet, that sort of thing comes with age and awareness. Maturity can come at a young age but it still requires aging.
The museum next to the Nurnberg Gate may only be four or five rooms yet I think what hit home today was looking at a picture of two armed men standing on a hill over a ravine full of women; each women bare backed and curled in death… the men in the street laying dead in another photo…
The same human nature that made those men crave power and superiority is the same human nature that drove survivors of such shootings to lay still for hours, heart pounding, knowing that any movement would beg another round of shots fired in your direction.
The same drive that the murderers used for destruction was the same drive the victims used for survival.
Human nature is such a tricky subject…
There are so many facets, I suppose it comes down to which ones reflect God…’
And which ones are our own doing…
I had more to say, yet I said some during dinner as our director asked for us to share our experiences… I shared, and afterwards picked up my soup spoon to try the spargel cream soup (great scot, amazing…) and noticed my hand shaking… sharing my mind is difficult to say the least…
The same blood that runs through our veins flowed through the person that was cracking the necks of children and throwing them at their mothers feet.
Tossing small children into a pit to be buried alive.
Demanding the women give up their wedding rings if they wished to have a drink of water.
Surveying a mass grave looking for the slightest movement to open fire on.
The same blood flowed through the veins of those who bled.
Those who lay still for hours so they could crawl away unnoticed come night fall…
Only to be found and shot.
The same blood flowed through the child that wrote a telegraph to her parents telling them she was going to die; she hoped it wasn’t too painful because she heard the smaller children were tossed in alive.
The same blood of a mother that looked back and thought of how her child would have been a grandmother by now but she shall forever remain a child because she as part of that ‘bloody six million.’
The same blood that flowed through the man that attacked the Nazis that were snapping the backs on infants and throwing them into the pit… he wounded a guard in the face and was beaten to death.
The blood from his body being beaten out by someone containing the same red substance.
My family left germany about 20 years before all of this began, but I know some of my family had to have still been there. Family I never knew or will know.
Were they the ones pulling the trigger?
Risking their lives to harbor escaped jews?
Turning in their Jewish neighbor and taking their possessions?
Biting their tongue as they passed by Nazis mocking Jews openly in the streets?
Throwing the bricks on Kristallnacht?
I can’t help but wonder…
I may have gorwn up knowin the basic facts of the Holocaust; I have read the words, I have seen the pictures. yet for me what got me today was associating those words with the pictures. Those heaps in the street, those bodies in the trench… I’m not certain why I never heard those voices. I suppose the books that I read either ended in survival…
Or ended at their deportation to a concentration camp.
I have thought a great many thoughts, why did I not think of the final words of the dying?
“I fell beside him and his corpse turned over,
tight already as a snapping string.
shot in the neck – and that’s how you’ll end to I whispered to myself;
lie still; no moving;
now patience flowers in death. Then I could hear-
Der springt noch auf – above and very near.
blood mixed with mud was drying on my ear.”
“autumn now. 1 september. September resettlement with its horrors. A story in itself. It doesn’t especially need to be recorded here. If something like that was possible, what else would be? Why war still? Why hunger still? Why a world still?”
“What is my life worth even if I remain alive? Whom to return to in my old home town of Warsaw? For what and for whom do I carry on this whole pursuit of life, enduring, holding out – for what?!”
“…I would so much have loved to hold you in my arms again, my poor children, I will never see you again.”
“Dear father! I am saying goodbye to you before I die. We would love so to live, but they won’t let us and we will die. I am so scared of this death because the small children are thrown alive into the pit. Goodbye forever, I kiss you tenderly.”
It’s amazing how quickly children can grow up if you let them.
Yet many shall never reap the benefits of early maturity…
And they have paid the ultimate consequence.
Random:
Today one of the girls I’m rooming with apologized to me… she said she had felt convicted that day of never having treated me as nicely as the other people in the band. She just felt that she wasn’t nice to me… or fair… that she treated me different.
…I suppose I’m too busy trying to not think people do think that way about me or treat me like that so when they do I didn’t realize they were…
And I’m used to being treated that way, but I see what she meant…
We often don’t realize how we treat others, and she is a nice girl.
25 may
Played Frisbee and soccer with my host family’s… 3 year old son I believe? It’s fantastic how onomatopoeias and kicking a soccer ball can translate a LOT when there is a complete language barrier…
I think a yard is necessary for any kid to grow up.
The TV here is in the basement, hardly used.
Outside is enjoyed, toys played with, who needs television, computers, video games, any of that…
If I ever have kids I think going down slides with them, teaching them Frisbee, kicking around a soccer ball, all of that is necessary. tv and such can be nice, but not all the time.
Ah, and a lot of communication happened simply by admiring the ‘erdbeer’ patch with him. He was quite excited about this. He was also excited about the gummy colas that were served after dinner… gummy candy like that is fairly traditional after dinner. It was fun sitting next to him, making the gummy colas jump all over the table and sing before eating them. Somehow little boys end up liking me more than little girls do…
Oh, and the family i’m staying with has an entire wall of ice skates. There are five or six rows of wooden racks, all hockey skates. The family has ten kids (three in the house) so I suppose that many were needed…
I want to go ice skating.
I want to fall and be hurt and be glad he’s not there to catch me or to say that he doesn’t like me getting hurt.
Bruises I say are better than him catching me.
But really I just love how it feels to be ice skating.
The gardens we saw today were wonderful…
Three palaces on the grounds, yet it cost money to go inside… so many fountains…
Yet not quite because of the nature.
There were a few kinds of flowering bushes yet flower beds were not prominent, the tiered gardens were impressive in architecture yet the plants…
Hmm.
Yet the flowering bushes were wonderful, the grounds with the trees, daisies in the fields…
I smiled as I looked closely at one of the flowers, a kind I hadn’t seen before coming here…
‘Thank you Lord, I live in this… in and through this… I am this.'
The soft grass at the base of the trees, whispy, dreamy, and quite frankly… just beautiful. Wish I could have gotten lost in it.
Felt right…
I could live anywhere happily… anywhere.
Yet I would love to have trees.
Grass.
Woods.
A fire pit.
A porch swing over looking it all.
Please Lord…?
*random
I like to talk to myself in front of the mirror.
Talk to myself, to God…
Great scot, last night I had a long talk…
A good friend of mine, the basketball friend, lost her entire house. Her family rode out the tornado under a mattress as her house was destroyed.
I saw that transition that he talked about as I thought of that.
Going from strong and independent…
And wilting…
I’m not sure that what he saw was as deep of a change.
Yet great scot, and my eyes…
Suppose I cannot describe.
‘it laughed as sunshine laughs upon the sea…’
And it cries with the same light the sun gives as it sighs its last breath before night…
Or was it the bright light that shines in the morning?
…and then I shuddered with joy as I looked at my face in the mirror, actually liking what it looked liked because it was me, the light playing with my eyes and making the blue jet out… blue for the sea and sky indeed.
haha, I'm an odd one indeed.
26 May
You know, for days now I have been wanting to blog about pain, depression, and how it’s the most addicting drug there is.
Okay, that’s a slight hyperbole.
Yet I’ve been wanting to type away about that…
And haven’t had the time.
I still do not have the time.
So tired.
This morning we actually had organized prayer time… we all kneeled at our chairs to pray.
i…
started thinking ‘okay. This person is going to pray. Then either this person or that person next but the other will follow, and then probably this one…’
and I stopped.
no, this is not a game.
Lord, I don’t have to be right… I mean, I’m not always right. And I need to learn that when I am wrong that I will not be judged and it will not be held against me.
This is not a game, no guessing, not a game, not a game, not a game…
…then I’m right and this person goes, then this person, then...
Silly God you’re not supposed to prove that point.
It was just ironic, I don’t remember exactly what I was saying to God yet it was… uncanny.
Another thought:
I’m trying not to apply this to the proven opinions I have on certain peoples’ character, I don’t want to judge, so tricky having a scattered brain with lots of possibilities and not letting the billion inevitable opnions affect how you view a person… at anyrate, this is just a general thought that came to mind because of a few people so it’s not directed at anyone.
Yet I just thought ‘don’t talk to be heard in prayer, talk because you need to speak out loud to God. Other people just happen to be there.
I prayed today, out loud… not quite as when I talk to You Lord yet it was still kind of conversation.
*random
The mirror is where I can face myself. See myself for who I am. Talk to God. I used to talk into a mirror so much when I was little… I have a big mirror in my room, you know how you always feel compelled to look into a mirror? And when I’m alone at night, long day, I always know whether I’m at camp, home, host home, Germany… I will have a mirror to reflect in.
‘reflect’ should be read as a pun.
It’s…
Hard to fully describe.
But let me just say it cuts to the core and I can say so much.
What you say really is a part of you and who you are.
And perhaps it is just my own gaze…
Yet it’s inescapable.
Ha, freshman year we had health class… we were talking about stringers, people that may do us harm, potential stalkers, etc… this was mainly directed at the girls. The police officer was talking about how you treat people like that, part of it was how you look at them. If you look at someone like that a certain way they will leave you alone. A few girls volunteered and thought they had it… they didn’t. but then the police officer called me out of my desk and put me up front.
He went through the same thing with the girls that had volunteered earlier…
And then used me for an example of how to have a look that will drive others away. Intimidate. Threaten. “Say ‘I’m not a gazelle’ to the lion” I believe he said.
so a police officer pulls me out of my desk because he noticed something about my glance.
Suppose that year was quite hard.,,
Oh great scot…
To give you an idea of how worn out I am. I forgot something.
I went to a concentration camp today.
How do you forget that?
Really…
I mean come on…
Sachsenhausen wasn’t an extermination camp, it was primarily a work camp… yet great scot station zed…
The barracks had toilets and wash basins…
Where three inmates were drowned once…
A shower room…
Where an inmate hung himself once…
The entire camp was once around 1,000 acres., the memorial and preserved space is in the main triangle of the camp…
The death center, zed (as a prisoner you arrive at A. you leave through Z.) was in its foundations… you could see the furnace doors where the dead were stuffed in… the room where inmates were told they were going though a medical examination and were shot at the base of the neck by surprise in such a way that an inmate in the same room wouldn’t know what had happened. Gas chambers. Rooms with small trenches for the blood to drain out of.
The audio tour told of the methods for killing.
Before going to that portion of the camp I felt badly for not… feeling more. I had grown up with knowledge of such terrible deeds… but then beginning with seeing the trench where execution took place, the burial place of the ashes… the doors of the furnaces… hearing of entire families being gassed to death at once and being reduced to ashes…
A heavy weight settled on my chest.
I find it odd how my body feels in a way that disconnected with my mind…
Well, sometimes.
I’m an oxymoron.
From there I went to the mortuary.
Saw the clean white tiled room where the autopsies and medical experiments were carried out. Touched the permanent tiled tables that had drains for the blood in them.
Went to the cellar, down the stairs with the ramp for the corpse sledge.
Stood in the large room where hundreds of dead were stacked at a time.
People.
With stories.
Families.
People that loved them.
dogs that looked for their master.
Spouses and children that were torn from them… and perhaps in their own respective camps.
Relatives that received their censored and positive letters and thought all was well…
Or rather chose to believe all was well.
Beautiful countryside indeed…
Great scot it’s gorgeous…
Listened to some ‘Fiction Family’ and one song struck me; not all of the song applies, but I am ‘elements combined, earth, air, fire, wine…’
Random: I wonder if me possessing abs that my basketball playing friend would kill for even though I havne’t worked out in ages is part of why I’m so tense al the time… or a result of… under the girly layer of fat I pretty much have a six pack and I can’t figure out why…
Why yes I thought of this today, that’s how bored you get with such a long drive.
Jazz today…
Umm…
Practice was…
Well, we’ve had a bit of trouble with the amp. To test out the sound of the rhythm section we played the beginning of song 43 in our repertoire, I am yet to play that song well. Passable yes. Well, no. especially the beginning. I play soft and timidly due to that, I stumble and try to blend it all so nothing is noticed. I tried to play loud and the director told me to turn it up…
but the amp was up all the way…
he told me to play louder…
I tried…
He told me to play louder again as we stopped and restarted the song numerous times.
I said I can’t play that song very well…
He messed with the amp and told me to play louder…
As we went along and he said more I got more uncomfortable, messed up more, teared up (what was up with the crying… is it that time of the month? Wasn’t that two weeks ago? It was weird, my face was normal but my eyes had the water works… sure I was upset, but great scot why was I crying… suppose that in front of everybody was humiliating…) I just messed up more, would skip whole measures and have to wait for a chord I knew the placement of to jump in on…
We started again and again and again…
He got frustrated and said that we’ve played that song all tour, what’s so different that I can’t play it now… it was kind of bad...
The piano player tried to help, told me to play it just like CC in our rep, a song I do well on…
Eventually the director said just pick a song I can actually play…
And so CC it was…
I played it well despite my frustration with myself for crying for such a reason as that primarily, for messing up in the first place, for the director not listening…
The rest of the band was just quiet during it all…
The director did apologize to me and in front of everyone saying his behavior wasn’t right…
It’s okay, he’s toting about 22 college kids in germany; I can understand him being worn thin…
Crying, really Lindsay?
Ah well. My tear ducts are affected by hormones and girlish stuff even if my mind isn’t.
We played at a drug rehab clinic tonight, outside concert… it went well; it was nice to see people ride by on their bikes and stop to come listen, little girls walking their dogs watching at the fence…
24 May
Berlin.
Was here yesterday, yet today it comes into play.
Holocaust memorial.
I have boxes of books about the Holocaust; my sting with German obsession came through hearing about my family tree and reading dozens of Holocaust stories. I was intrigued by it all; how much destruction humans could cause and the callousness behind it… yet in all reality, I just found it all wildly interesting. I thought deeply then yet I didn’t quite fully realize what I was asking yet, that sort of thing comes with age and awareness. Maturity can come at a young age but it still requires aging.
The museum next to the Nurnberg Gate may only be four or five rooms yet I think what hit home today was looking at a picture of two armed men standing on a hill over a ravine full of women; each women bare backed and curled in death… the men in the street laying dead in another photo…
The same human nature that made those men crave power and superiority is the same human nature that drove survivors of such shootings to lay still for hours, heart pounding, knowing that any movement would beg another round of shots fired in your direction.
The same drive that the murderers used for destruction was the same drive the victims used for survival.
Human nature is such a tricky subject…
There are so many facets, I suppose it comes down to which ones reflect God…’
And which ones are our own doing…
I had more to say, yet I said some during dinner as our director asked for us to share our experiences… I shared, and afterwards picked up my soup spoon to try the spargel cream soup (great scot, amazing…) and noticed my hand shaking… sharing my mind is difficult to say the least…
The same blood that runs through our veins flowed through the person that was cracking the necks of children and throwing them at their mothers feet.
Tossing small children into a pit to be buried alive.
Demanding the women give up their wedding rings if they wished to have a drink of water.
Surveying a mass grave looking for the slightest movement to open fire on.
The same blood flowed through the veins of those who bled.
Those who lay still for hours so they could crawl away unnoticed come night fall…
Only to be found and shot.
The same blood flowed through the child that wrote a telegraph to her parents telling them she was going to die; she hoped it wasn’t too painful because she heard the smaller children were tossed in alive.
The same blood of a mother that looked back and thought of how her child would have been a grandmother by now but she shall forever remain a child because she as part of that ‘bloody six million.’
The same blood that flowed through the man that attacked the Nazis that were snapping the backs on infants and throwing them into the pit… he wounded a guard in the face and was beaten to death.
The blood from his body being beaten out by someone containing the same red substance.
My family left germany about 20 years before all of this began, but I know some of my family had to have still been there. Family I never knew or will know.
Were they the ones pulling the trigger?
Risking their lives to harbor escaped jews?
Turning in their Jewish neighbor and taking their possessions?
Biting their tongue as they passed by Nazis mocking Jews openly in the streets?
Throwing the bricks on Kristallnacht?
I can’t help but wonder…
I may have gorwn up knowin the basic facts of the Holocaust; I have read the words, I have seen the pictures. yet for me what got me today was associating those words with the pictures. Those heaps in the street, those bodies in the trench… I’m not certain why I never heard those voices. I suppose the books that I read either ended in survival…
Or ended at their deportation to a concentration camp.
I have thought a great many thoughts, why did I not think of the final words of the dying?
“I fell beside him and his corpse turned over,
tight already as a snapping string.
shot in the neck – and that’s how you’ll end to I whispered to myself;
lie still; no moving;
now patience flowers in death. Then I could hear-
Der springt noch auf – above and very near.
blood mixed with mud was drying on my ear.”
“autumn now. 1 september. September resettlement with its horrors. A story in itself. It doesn’t especially need to be recorded here. If something like that was possible, what else would be? Why war still? Why hunger still? Why a world still?”
“What is my life worth even if I remain alive? Whom to return to in my old home town of Warsaw? For what and for whom do I carry on this whole pursuit of life, enduring, holding out – for what?!”
“…I would so much have loved to hold you in my arms again, my poor children, I will never see you again.”
“Dear father! I am saying goodbye to you before I die. We would love so to live, but they won’t let us and we will die. I am so scared of this death because the small children are thrown alive into the pit. Goodbye forever, I kiss you tenderly.”
It’s amazing how quickly children can grow up if you let them.
Yet many shall never reap the benefits of early maturity…
And they have paid the ultimate consequence.
Random:
Today one of the girls I’m rooming with apologized to me… she said she had felt convicted that day of never having treated me as nicely as the other people in the band. She just felt that she wasn’t nice to me… or fair… that she treated me different.
…I suppose I’m too busy trying to not think people do think that way about me or treat me like that so when they do I didn’t realize they were…
And I’m used to being treated that way, but I see what she meant…
We often don’t realize how we treat others, and she is a nice girl.
25 may
Played Frisbee and soccer with my host family’s… 3 year old son I believe? It’s fantastic how onomatopoeias and kicking a soccer ball can translate a LOT when there is a complete language barrier…
I think a yard is necessary for any kid to grow up.
The TV here is in the basement, hardly used.
Outside is enjoyed, toys played with, who needs television, computers, video games, any of that…
If I ever have kids I think going down slides with them, teaching them Frisbee, kicking around a soccer ball, all of that is necessary. tv and such can be nice, but not all the time.
Ah, and a lot of communication happened simply by admiring the ‘erdbeer’ patch with him. He was quite excited about this. He was also excited about the gummy colas that were served after dinner… gummy candy like that is fairly traditional after dinner. It was fun sitting next to him, making the gummy colas jump all over the table and sing before eating them. Somehow little boys end up liking me more than little girls do…
Oh, and the family i’m staying with has an entire wall of ice skates. There are five or six rows of wooden racks, all hockey skates. The family has ten kids (three in the house) so I suppose that many were needed…
I want to go ice skating.
I want to fall and be hurt and be glad he’s not there to catch me or to say that he doesn’t like me getting hurt.
Bruises I say are better than him catching me.
But really I just love how it feels to be ice skating.
The gardens we saw today were wonderful…
Three palaces on the grounds, yet it cost money to go inside… so many fountains…
Yet not quite because of the nature.
There were a few kinds of flowering bushes yet flower beds were not prominent, the tiered gardens were impressive in architecture yet the plants…
Hmm.
Yet the flowering bushes were wonderful, the grounds with the trees, daisies in the fields…
I smiled as I looked closely at one of the flowers, a kind I hadn’t seen before coming here…
‘Thank you Lord, I live in this… in and through this… I am this.'
The soft grass at the base of the trees, whispy, dreamy, and quite frankly… just beautiful. Wish I could have gotten lost in it.
Felt right…
I could live anywhere happily… anywhere.
Yet I would love to have trees.
Grass.
Woods.
A fire pit.
A porch swing over looking it all.
Please Lord…?
*random
I like to talk to myself in front of the mirror.
Talk to myself, to God…
Great scot, last night I had a long talk…
A good friend of mine, the basketball friend, lost her entire house. Her family rode out the tornado under a mattress as her house was destroyed.
I saw that transition that he talked about as I thought of that.
Going from strong and independent…
And wilting…
I’m not sure that what he saw was as deep of a change.
Yet great scot, and my eyes…
Suppose I cannot describe.
‘it laughed as sunshine laughs upon the sea…’
And it cries with the same light the sun gives as it sighs its last breath before night…
Or was it the bright light that shines in the morning?
…and then I shuddered with joy as I looked at my face in the mirror, actually liking what it looked liked because it was me, the light playing with my eyes and making the blue jet out… blue for the sea and sky indeed.
haha, I'm an odd one indeed.
26 May
You know, for days now I have been wanting to blog about pain, depression, and how it’s the most addicting drug there is.
Okay, that’s a slight hyperbole.
Yet I’ve been wanting to type away about that…
And haven’t had the time.
I still do not have the time.
So tired.
This morning we actually had organized prayer time… we all kneeled at our chairs to pray.
i…
started thinking ‘okay. This person is going to pray. Then either this person or that person next but the other will follow, and then probably this one…’
and I stopped.
no, this is not a game.
Lord, I don’t have to be right… I mean, I’m not always right. And I need to learn that when I am wrong that I will not be judged and it will not be held against me.
This is not a game, no guessing, not a game, not a game, not a game…
…then I’m right and this person goes, then this person, then...
Silly God you’re not supposed to prove that point.
It was just ironic, I don’t remember exactly what I was saying to God yet it was… uncanny.
Another thought:
I’m trying not to apply this to the proven opinions I have on certain peoples’ character, I don’t want to judge, so tricky having a scattered brain with lots of possibilities and not letting the billion inevitable opnions affect how you view a person… at anyrate, this is just a general thought that came to mind because of a few people so it’s not directed at anyone.
Yet I just thought ‘don’t talk to be heard in prayer, talk because you need to speak out loud to God. Other people just happen to be there.
I prayed today, out loud… not quite as when I talk to You Lord yet it was still kind of conversation.
*random
The mirror is where I can face myself. See myself for who I am. Talk to God. I used to talk into a mirror so much when I was little… I have a big mirror in my room, you know how you always feel compelled to look into a mirror? And when I’m alone at night, long day, I always know whether I’m at camp, home, host home, Germany… I will have a mirror to reflect in.
‘reflect’ should be read as a pun.
It’s…
Hard to fully describe.
But let me just say it cuts to the core and I can say so much.
What you say really is a part of you and who you are.
And perhaps it is just my own gaze…
Yet it’s inescapable.
Ha, freshman year we had health class… we were talking about stringers, people that may do us harm, potential stalkers, etc… this was mainly directed at the girls. The police officer was talking about how you treat people like that, part of it was how you look at them. If you look at someone like that a certain way they will leave you alone. A few girls volunteered and thought they had it… they didn’t. but then the police officer called me out of my desk and put me up front.
He went through the same thing with the girls that had volunteered earlier…
And then used me for an example of how to have a look that will drive others away. Intimidate. Threaten. “Say ‘I’m not a gazelle’ to the lion” I believe he said.
so a police officer pulls me out of my desk because he noticed something about my glance.
Suppose that year was quite hard.,,
Oh great scot…
To give you an idea of how worn out I am. I forgot something.
I went to a concentration camp today.
How do you forget that?
Really…
I mean come on…
Sachsenhausen wasn’t an extermination camp, it was primarily a work camp… yet great scot station zed…
The barracks had toilets and wash basins…
Where three inmates were drowned once…
A shower room…
Where an inmate hung himself once…
The entire camp was once around 1,000 acres., the memorial and preserved space is in the main triangle of the camp…
The death center, zed (as a prisoner you arrive at A. you leave through Z.) was in its foundations… you could see the furnace doors where the dead were stuffed in… the room where inmates were told they were going though a medical examination and were shot at the base of the neck by surprise in such a way that an inmate in the same room wouldn’t know what had happened. Gas chambers. Rooms with small trenches for the blood to drain out of.
The audio tour told of the methods for killing.
Before going to that portion of the camp I felt badly for not… feeling more. I had grown up with knowledge of such terrible deeds… but then beginning with seeing the trench where execution took place, the burial place of the ashes… the doors of the furnaces… hearing of entire families being gassed to death at once and being reduced to ashes…
A heavy weight settled on my chest.
I find it odd how my body feels in a way that disconnected with my mind…
Well, sometimes.
I’m an oxymoron.
From there I went to the mortuary.
Saw the clean white tiled room where the autopsies and medical experiments were carried out. Touched the permanent tiled tables that had drains for the blood in them.
Went to the cellar, down the stairs with the ramp for the corpse sledge.
Stood in the large room where hundreds of dead were stacked at a time.
People.
With stories.
Families.
People that loved them.
dogs that looked for their master.
Spouses and children that were torn from them… and perhaps in their own respective camps.
Relatives that received their censored and positive letters and thought all was well…
Or rather chose to believe all was well.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
"let there be..." *scribbles it down* ... *waits* ... *it happens.*
today was nice; went well...
ah...
and it rained.
haha, Lord, You always know.
i wasn't outside for it, but...
*random
'cynical' he dubbed me.
ha.
give me a new adjective and i'll write myself into it.
i seem to write myself into everything.
begin a metaphor and realize i'm in it, rant about something and it happens, think about something and it happens, hmm.
was able to meet one of mom's high school friends; that was very nice... she was good friends with a german exchange student, during my germany obsessed stint back in fifth grade she would tell me all sorts of stories of her and her friends, namely this exchange student. so for him to be there and bring his family to see me was quite wonderful, he's very nice, and his wife and daughter are also nice. just cool to meet people you've heard about for years... he said my mom was a very gifted guitar player; i know that she was, wonder why she doesn't really play much now...
random half-thought:
God is not different for everybody, but he is seen in different lights.
if i see a trunk and you see the leaves then we are both still looking at a tree...
yet we can't dismiss the existence of the parts we do not see...
...
okay so that's a 1/4th thought.
playing frisbee at the park and talking with my host family was wonderful...
wonderful, nice, where's my vocabulary today...
there was quite a bit of talk about future plans and such... i still wonder what i really want to do...
hmm...
at anyrate, running about with my bare feet in the cool grass...
looking at the sunset and the clouds that still felt more life than i...
and the colors were so different, the sunset, the layers, great scot...
i love it so.
sleep must be had now, long drive tomorrow i can sleep on yet i needn't ramble on like this without thought.
ah...
and it rained.
haha, Lord, You always know.
i wasn't outside for it, but...
*random
'cynical' he dubbed me.
ha.
give me a new adjective and i'll write myself into it.
i seem to write myself into everything.
begin a metaphor and realize i'm in it, rant about something and it happens, think about something and it happens, hmm.
was able to meet one of mom's high school friends; that was very nice... she was good friends with a german exchange student, during my germany obsessed stint back in fifth grade she would tell me all sorts of stories of her and her friends, namely this exchange student. so for him to be there and bring his family to see me was quite wonderful, he's very nice, and his wife and daughter are also nice. just cool to meet people you've heard about for years... he said my mom was a very gifted guitar player; i know that she was, wonder why she doesn't really play much now...
random half-thought:
God is not different for everybody, but he is seen in different lights.
if i see a trunk and you see the leaves then we are both still looking at a tree...
yet we can't dismiss the existence of the parts we do not see...
...
okay so that's a 1/4th thought.
playing frisbee at the park and talking with my host family was wonderful...
wonderful, nice, where's my vocabulary today...
there was quite a bit of talk about future plans and such... i still wonder what i really want to do...
hmm...
at anyrate, running about with my bare feet in the cool grass...
looking at the sunset and the clouds that still felt more life than i...
and the colors were so different, the sunset, the layers, great scot...
i love it so.
sleep must be had now, long drive tomorrow i can sleep on yet i needn't ramble on like this without thought.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
all i have is words; i scribble them down hoping they'll save me but i'm lost, i'm so lost...
*random
all of the carbonated drinks they drink in europe getting to me.
crazy, they even carbonate water and scarcely anyone drinks uncarbonated water...
i tried it with an open mind and no preconceptions, but great scot i can't get used to carbonated water...
beautiful day; 27/28 centrigrade yet it was lovely in the shade watching the rhine flow past...
i was able to continue reading dorian gray as i sat in the shade of a tree...
ha.
haha.
oh irony.
speaking of irony, it still escapes my reason as to how a 'writer' could only say 'i'm sorry' and 'maybe you should work on that.'
dime.
*toss*
...
silence.
there's no end to the well, the wish shall never reach the bottom and be realized.
sitting on the dry ground i looked about at the terribly burned grass... the water flowed peacefully in the Rhine, the green trees made music with the fresh leaves... but the ground, the ground...
i prayed for the ground.
i asked for God to hear its cry...
i could hear the ground crying for rain, crying for life...
life...
and then i realized...
must i always find myself in a metaphor?
yet while true life that i tremble to even think of elluded me, i thought...
and was content...
i fear that the death of dorian...
or is it death?
that is a good question...
yet the written tale of one does give me such good thought...
in watching others we learn more about ourselves...
i misquoted that terribly yet the meaning is there.
ah, haha,
"the joy of a caged bird was in her laugh"
thank you, mr. wilde, for noting that caged birds laugh differently.
yet we find her not really living until she meets him, so she can't take life without him because he is life.
thankfully i know life perfectly well.
regardless of what he thought.
no, no, it is not all about winning.
great scot no.
i shudder to think that the one person i thought knew me better than anyone else...
thought i considered life all about winning.
about triumphing over my past, proving all the people in my life wrong.
no, no, that is something that i feel a pull towards yet i know that is not life, that is not life.
nature would have me divide and conquer...
human nature that is.
odd thing human nature is...
is can be so good...
yet so terribly wrong.
what is it?
is it good?
or is it ultimately selfish?
to use Randian principles, is being selfish that bad?
what angle are you looking at being 'selfish'?
so many different aspects, ways to perceive things...
how could anyone think they fully know someone and what they think about things when there are so many facets to one simple opinion?
i suppose i always fear that i divulge a few facets; to assume there are only four or five sides to an opinion makes you create a ridiculously different shape than the fifteen sided figure the person relaying their opinion is envisioning. it's difficult indeed to give all sides and angles... and then to construct them properly...
suppose some people are easier to understand than i.
haha, today the other jazz member i'm staying with said i was so easy to read...
ha, indeed...
in certain aspects i suppose.
'are you hungry?'
'...no, not really.'
'she's hungry.'
suppose it depends on who i am at the moment.
ah, that caged bird line goes on...
'the joy of a caged bird was in her voice. her eyes caught the melody and echoed it in radiance, then closed for a moment, as though to hide their secret. when they opened, the mist of a dream had passed across them.'
i pity the girl for having these reactions induced by love.
read the book to discover why i pity her so.
yet i suppose i would pity her regardless.
i feel that...
i feel that Lord because of You...
because of Your creation...
...dare i say...
because i feel and live that, i feel that, see that, am that in nature...
and he shall never have that.
i feel all of that joy when i gaze as a vivid sunset, i tremble as i think that that shall never be his.
it's...
odd...
and one of the most true things in my life however...
i don't know, nonsensical as it seems.
i was twirling my bronzed curls on my finger as i read...
seeing them close up, depth of field making them prominent, i just thought of how not one golden curl would be touched by him.
i live this...
i pity her perhaps because she needed another person to feel it.
she didn't live before.
great scot, you must have life without people.
people will fail you in the end...
always...
even the most caring of people cannot be there for you all the time.
you have to know how to stand with your face to the wind and breathe without another propping you up and pushing on your lungs...
i cannot imagine relying solely on one person for life.
yet i rely on God, that's quite different.
living through another person...
only feeling alive when with them...
no...
or really i suppose know what life if before. know how to feel. how to breathe...
oh great scot i wish i could breathe now...
note to the ex if he is reading: (look, i didn't say 'bipolar' or anything like that!)
(...but i did there.)
(parenthesis!!!)
note:
read the picture of dorian gray.
/note.
(MORE PARENTHESIS)
A Pear In Thesis would be a phenomenal thesis.
or just put a pear in your thesis and walk around pointing at the thesis paper saying "A PEAR IN THESIS."
suppose that is shouting, all caps and whatnot...
but it's not wearing a hat so it's not all caps...
*bad joke groans*
yes i am tired.
in a portion of the book i'm reading this girls brother claims to kill the man she loves if he ever hurts her.
she claims he has no idea what he's talking about.
i beg to differ.
i'll wager that jim is listening to that caged bird... to that melodic laughter, they great feeling, the light in her eyes...
and imagining it quenched.
yes, i should think so.
yet all the same, my theory of needing life outside of a person is proven right...
however i know life.
i know life outside of him.
i shudder and feel pained at thought of any form of feeling life that was with him.
i cannot help that at all.
but i know life outside of him.
i live despite him.
i pray i never live to spite him as my natural human nature tells me he lives to spite me.
for all i know that could be true.
but i don't believe it, or at the very least refuse to believe it.
and if he's shocked that i could think he would live to spite me, it must be remembered that his existence is pain and that i have forgotten him as a person.
i simply give voice to many things in my mind...
*sigh*
sitting on the Rhine with my back against a tree, what more could one ask for?
as i read a character that quite reminded me of a friend i know, i was somehow reminded of 'the orphaned anything's' and how ayden constructs love stories and how the author's blog will speak of romance in europe.
i laughed thinking of how sitting along reading by a european river would be the perfect place to construct such a story; that's the place where people say 'one day i will sit by the river, i will be so enthralled with my book and the sound of the lapping water that i will not notice the handsome young man getting off of his bike and taking a book out of his messenger bag before settling at a bench. i read eagerly as the story tries my mind; i will speak to the characters and say arbitrary thoughts out loud until i hear a laugh come from a bench ten feet away from me; he looks at me and i look away in shyness, my blue eyes laughing at the happenstance and wondering how long he had been sitting there...'
well, you get the idea.
today was wonderful...
so much good thought...
good reading...
ha, and walking by myself.
the group i was with had walked from the bus to the water, and i decided i needed my book, no one cared to go back with me so i walked back through town to the bus. not very long. maybe 8-10 minute walk.
should i be walking by myself in germany?
meh, i'm fine.
it is late and my eyes are heavy...
song for today...
i scribbled so much in my small moleskine notebook as i read...
i think 'far from home' by the classic crime...
indeed...
haha, oh dear, i had nearly forgotten.
quite cynically i was laughing one day at how the song 'to the wolves' by anberlin was his song.
his song indeed.
i almost feel that should be his illustrious mantra...
no, 'i called on Jesus but He head i hurt His little girl... yeah with my reckless stare i've been so unfair, misplacing my affections'
great scot yes...
ha,
i can fight the wolves on my own.
besides, the darkness of pain probably would have been unbearable to him so its just as well.
i can fight the wolves on my own.
But Lord, not without You.
and You have told me that i need to learn to let people help.
...You have told me that 19 years is long enough for fighting wolves on my own.
so late...
1am, really?
great scot, i despise taking showers this late... i feel wrong about it when i'm in a stranger's home as a guest...
but thank you Lord for the thought...
so much.
all of the carbonated drinks they drink in europe getting to me.
crazy, they even carbonate water and scarcely anyone drinks uncarbonated water...
i tried it with an open mind and no preconceptions, but great scot i can't get used to carbonated water...
beautiful day; 27/28 centrigrade yet it was lovely in the shade watching the rhine flow past...
i was able to continue reading dorian gray as i sat in the shade of a tree...
ha.
haha.
oh irony.
speaking of irony, it still escapes my reason as to how a 'writer' could only say 'i'm sorry' and 'maybe you should work on that.'
dime.
*toss*
...
silence.
there's no end to the well, the wish shall never reach the bottom and be realized.
sitting on the dry ground i looked about at the terribly burned grass... the water flowed peacefully in the Rhine, the green trees made music with the fresh leaves... but the ground, the ground...
i prayed for the ground.
i asked for God to hear its cry...
i could hear the ground crying for rain, crying for life...
life...
and then i realized...
must i always find myself in a metaphor?
yet while true life that i tremble to even think of elluded me, i thought...
and was content...
i fear that the death of dorian...
or is it death?
that is a good question...
yet the written tale of one does give me such good thought...
in watching others we learn more about ourselves...
i misquoted that terribly yet the meaning is there.
ah, haha,
"the joy of a caged bird was in her laugh"
thank you, mr. wilde, for noting that caged birds laugh differently.
yet we find her not really living until she meets him, so she can't take life without him because he is life.
thankfully i know life perfectly well.
regardless of what he thought.
no, no, it is not all about winning.
great scot no.
i shudder to think that the one person i thought knew me better than anyone else...
thought i considered life all about winning.
about triumphing over my past, proving all the people in my life wrong.
no, no, that is something that i feel a pull towards yet i know that is not life, that is not life.
nature would have me divide and conquer...
human nature that is.
odd thing human nature is...
is can be so good...
yet so terribly wrong.
what is it?
is it good?
or is it ultimately selfish?
to use Randian principles, is being selfish that bad?
what angle are you looking at being 'selfish'?
so many different aspects, ways to perceive things...
how could anyone think they fully know someone and what they think about things when there are so many facets to one simple opinion?
i suppose i always fear that i divulge a few facets; to assume there are only four or five sides to an opinion makes you create a ridiculously different shape than the fifteen sided figure the person relaying their opinion is envisioning. it's difficult indeed to give all sides and angles... and then to construct them properly...
suppose some people are easier to understand than i.
haha, today the other jazz member i'm staying with said i was so easy to read...
ha, indeed...
in certain aspects i suppose.
'are you hungry?'
'...no, not really.'
'she's hungry.'
suppose it depends on who i am at the moment.
ah, that caged bird line goes on...
'the joy of a caged bird was in her voice. her eyes caught the melody and echoed it in radiance, then closed for a moment, as though to hide their secret. when they opened, the mist of a dream had passed across them.'
i pity the girl for having these reactions induced by love.
read the book to discover why i pity her so.
yet i suppose i would pity her regardless.
i feel that...
i feel that Lord because of You...
because of Your creation...
...dare i say...
because i feel and live that, i feel that, see that, am that in nature...
and he shall never have that.
i feel all of that joy when i gaze as a vivid sunset, i tremble as i think that that shall never be his.
it's...
odd...
and one of the most true things in my life however...
i don't know, nonsensical as it seems.
i was twirling my bronzed curls on my finger as i read...
seeing them close up, depth of field making them prominent, i just thought of how not one golden curl would be touched by him.
i live this...
i pity her perhaps because she needed another person to feel it.
she didn't live before.
great scot, you must have life without people.
people will fail you in the end...
always...
even the most caring of people cannot be there for you all the time.
you have to know how to stand with your face to the wind and breathe without another propping you up and pushing on your lungs...
i cannot imagine relying solely on one person for life.
yet i rely on God, that's quite different.
living through another person...
only feeling alive when with them...
no...
or really i suppose know what life if before. know how to feel. how to breathe...
oh great scot i wish i could breathe now...
note to the ex if he is reading: (look, i didn't say 'bipolar' or anything like that!)
(...but i did there.)
(parenthesis!!!)
note:
read the picture of dorian gray.
/note.
(MORE PARENTHESIS)
A Pear In Thesis would be a phenomenal thesis.
or just put a pear in your thesis and walk around pointing at the thesis paper saying "A PEAR IN THESIS."
suppose that is shouting, all caps and whatnot...
but it's not wearing a hat so it's not all caps...
*bad joke groans*
yes i am tired.
in a portion of the book i'm reading this girls brother claims to kill the man she loves if he ever hurts her.
she claims he has no idea what he's talking about.
i beg to differ.
i'll wager that jim is listening to that caged bird... to that melodic laughter, they great feeling, the light in her eyes...
and imagining it quenched.
yes, i should think so.
yet all the same, my theory of needing life outside of a person is proven right...
however i know life.
i know life outside of him.
i shudder and feel pained at thought of any form of feeling life that was with him.
i cannot help that at all.
but i know life outside of him.
i live despite him.
i pray i never live to spite him as my natural human nature tells me he lives to spite me.
for all i know that could be true.
but i don't believe it, or at the very least refuse to believe it.
and if he's shocked that i could think he would live to spite me, it must be remembered that his existence is pain and that i have forgotten him as a person.
i simply give voice to many things in my mind...
*sigh*
sitting on the Rhine with my back against a tree, what more could one ask for?
as i read a character that quite reminded me of a friend i know, i was somehow reminded of 'the orphaned anything's' and how ayden constructs love stories and how the author's blog will speak of romance in europe.
i laughed thinking of how sitting along reading by a european river would be the perfect place to construct such a story; that's the place where people say 'one day i will sit by the river, i will be so enthralled with my book and the sound of the lapping water that i will not notice the handsome young man getting off of his bike and taking a book out of his messenger bag before settling at a bench. i read eagerly as the story tries my mind; i will speak to the characters and say arbitrary thoughts out loud until i hear a laugh come from a bench ten feet away from me; he looks at me and i look away in shyness, my blue eyes laughing at the happenstance and wondering how long he had been sitting there...'
well, you get the idea.
today was wonderful...
so much good thought...
good reading...
ha, and walking by myself.
the group i was with had walked from the bus to the water, and i decided i needed my book, no one cared to go back with me so i walked back through town to the bus. not very long. maybe 8-10 minute walk.
should i be walking by myself in germany?
meh, i'm fine.
it is late and my eyes are heavy...
song for today...
i scribbled so much in my small moleskine notebook as i read...
i think 'far from home' by the classic crime...
indeed...
haha, oh dear, i had nearly forgotten.
quite cynically i was laughing one day at how the song 'to the wolves' by anberlin was his song.
his song indeed.
i almost feel that should be his illustrious mantra...
no, 'i called on Jesus but He head i hurt His little girl... yeah with my reckless stare i've been so unfair, misplacing my affections'
great scot yes...
ha,
i can fight the wolves on my own.
besides, the darkness of pain probably would have been unbearable to him so its just as well.
i can fight the wolves on my own.
But Lord, not without You.
and You have told me that i need to learn to let people help.
...You have told me that 19 years is long enough for fighting wolves on my own.
so late...
1am, really?
great scot, i despise taking showers this late... i feel wrong about it when i'm in a stranger's home as a guest...
but thank you Lord for the thought...
so much.
the triple crown of blogposts... but i fear my representation is more like a 'hayburner' to use our jazz interpretation...
19 May
Okay clouds, you win today.
20 May
A Frisbee for your thoughts…
Yesterday winding through the black forest on our bus was wonderful; my host lives in the woods, pity we don’t have time to take the trails… the trees go on for miles and are simply wonderful… the running river through a small village we stopped at was perfect; I wanted to walk around on the rocks as the water flowed musically downhill, yet it was down a short ravine and across a fence… I was close to it yet the water was still too far.
Beautiful out…
Still lack of life.
Played our concert at a beer garden last night, went very well indeed… I quite enjoyed it…
Tonight we grilled bratwurst, played both volleyball and Frisbee in addition to kicking the soccer ball around. There was also a campfire for s’mores… it was a nice way to spend the evening with our host families and fellow band members… the church is in the forest aswell, the black forest quite reminds me or Mirkwood…
I almost missed the s’mores however; spent most of my time playing Frisbee. At first it was just with my host family’s daughter, then another boy joined that may have been 7… he didn’t know how to throw it so I had the pleasure of helping him learn… he caught on well, I enjoyed working on his throwing with him quite a bit, then my host family’s 5 year old son joined in, for quite a while I was just playing with the two boys. It was fun; the boy I taught to play Frisbee was funny and open. Apparently the girls staying with his family couldn’t get a word out of him… hmm. When we went over to s’mores his older sister treated him like he was two and he didn’t say a word as she hovered, hand at his back and face right next to his, ‘can I help you? Want me to get you a marshmallow? How do you want it cooked?’ etc.
He squirmed and remained quiet, after she cooked the marshmallow he didn’t want it and she said ‘mom! ______ made me make him a s’more and he doesn’t want it!’
…
I had helped him and the other boy get their marshmallow on a stick before his sister came, they were both excited and talking about the s’mores…
Ha.
Metaphor…
seems that hovering about and focusing on something like that instead of just being supportive makes one clam up.
seems that hovering about and focusing on something like that instead of just being supportive makes one clam up.
At anyrate, he was better once his sister left. my host family’s older daughter didn’t do that to her brother and her brother is younger…
It also bothered me when one of the guys in the band came to play Frisbee with us… it bothers me when people talk to kids like they’re… not people.
I think that’s what I’m saying…?
They can think, they’re humans, don’t treat them like they’re lower and you’re older and all knowing.
Random:
Oddly enough, playing Frisbee with those kids, interacting with them, seeing them respond to me, just made me smile that that one guy will never be a part of my future life.
I don’t quite like that because it’s almost like I’m saying that I’m better…
Not at all what I mean but it seems that way.
…is it what I mean?
And especially when that band member came up and was trying to interact with the kids… makes me relieved that he’s not around, even if he doesn’t quite treat kids like that band member did. Just somehow made me happy…
And excited that if I ever have kids I get to teach them to play Frisbee and such.
21 may- morning
Was dropped off early at the church as my host family’s kids are going to their first race today; one mile for the ten year old, half mile for the five year old. They’re excited.
At the moment I’m sitting in a house…
That used to be a SS headquarters in charge of interrogating prisoners.
Fascinating…
The jewish member of our band is a little freaked out yet she’s controlling herself.
Beautiful morning indeed.
Just hope I’m not being hardened too much… in feeling revolted by him and most every thought of him I feel that my hurt is being traded for such… disdain?
Ah well.
Apologies to anyone who expects real thought.
I shouldn’t write anything if I don’t have the thought to put behind it anylonger…
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