Oddities

Mind wanderings... That's how this blog used to be. As I feel more and more exposed a tiny part of me wants to resurrect this blog. I miss just rambling on about nothing feeling like what I wanted to say meant something but knowing I would be overlooked. Perhaps it is the trauma responses lately that make me want to hide in plain sight. This blog was also fully unrelated to any content creation journey and thus free from seemingly having to "update people..." You know what, fuck it. I should rightfully post when and what I want anyway. It's my own damn website.

Shadowlands?

I actually picked up my guitar today. I went over some old songs that I had written about the same time I last posted in here and one that is a bit older. It was kind of bitter sweet from the mood I am in. I highly doubt this will be read by anyone so I might be as straightforward as I can without feeling exposed to random strangers on the net that might see this.
About a year ago I think I came to accept/realize I have depression and anxiety. Somewhere in 2017 I was officially diagnosed. In that time I was exposed to the idea of attachment theory and it all seems kinda fuzzy to me now. I want to look it all up again and see what I can find. It made sense though, it all kinda made sense, and I so desperately wanted a real certified person who knows what they are talking about and has a neutral stance on who I am and who I speak with to have a stab at it all. Before I get more sideways... What made sense was how I keep people away. If you manage to come close, I doubt you can stay there. Mostly, I feel toxic, mostly, I feel vulnerable, mostly... I want to be left alone.
It hurts less to never have my hopes built up. Once you fall from the grace of my hope you stay shut out of my heart for good. You see, flakey people scare me or I am not sure how to best word this, they traumatize me. Sadly, as much as I want to be alone I get easily attached and if you come and go as you please then the less I want to care because every time you leave is a nightmare for my heart even if you are the most faithful person on earth, things change, they always change and unless I have a guarantee then I have nothing to hope for and when you do come around I don't want to leave myself open for that abandonment again.
My father recently passed. I can't say for sure if that is where it all started, his haphazard care for me, mostly if I look back he seemed to be present out of moral obligation. When he moved out, I was 16, he clocked out and guilted me for not constantly knocking on his door.
Time has passed and I still hate constantly knocking on someone's door. I am sure that makes any relationship with ne faulty but absense esp continuted and erratic absence makes me shut down and makes me cut all ties. It leaves very little room for faith or grace. I suppose that is what made what I call God the only thing I had faith in, an omnipresence; it is so easy to tap into the sense of God. Everything that is good, and good is just even if it seems unfair... That seems like a concept that many don't grasp. At some point, I had logical thought trails ti explain. These days it seems best to just accept it for myself. My faith has become isolated where in the past the wisdom (the very limited and flawed wisdom) I felt I had could benefit and bring comfort to anyone of my many companions, people I called friends. I use that term very loosely, I always did. To the general population I would say friend, but in my heart and mind they were someone I invested time in, but kept at a distance, because their actions indicated I should keep them at a distance. The few who transgressed passed that shell I seems to have regret because they are gone.
It used to hurt, I would read a friend is someone who would lay their life down for the sake of another. I feel like a dormat for having "a big heart." My compassion left me open to far too much hurt and abuse. I told a coworker today, I am not a good friend. I will drop you in a second. It seems to be more and more true so much that I barely even make new friends. To be honest thw last real friend I made was a little more than three years ago. That person seems like a stranger now. My greatest friend, if I will be this wreckless with my exposure is a little grey ball of fur with long ears. That makes me sad.

Stories

What is your story? Was someone there to see the joy and laughter? Was someone with you through your pain and hurt? Some say there is an endless energy that witnesses and fabricates all things, a loving essence that binds all things and non-things, so others question why did it not stop the hurts and the pain?

If love is love, if love is good, why does hurt, sickness or death exist? What if good is not happiness but it is, indeed, just and balanced and constant? What if constant is not always easy? What if just is not always relief? What if balance is not always equal?

What if nothing is random and everything is programmed yet life's expirience is unexpected because we are limitated? What if we fight to be happy yet succumb to a lifeless journey? This path is easy, this path keeps me going, this path gets things done, this path is maintained, this path is managable. What if we insist on quality yet are paralyzed by imperfection? This path is wrong, this path is dangerous, this path is confusing, this path is undone.

The solitude of the past maybe to shape the companionship of today, to merge two lives tomorrow. As each cell splits and some die, as one cell becomes an organism, as time passes and entropy takes its course some parts of us stay weak, some grow strong, some parts of us were struck down, some parts were fed and nourished well. Some parts of us get hidden, some parts grow calloused, some keep bleeding, some heal nicely, some mutate, some evolve, some fade away, some overshadow the rest, some sustain the whole system, some grow uncontrollable and poison the rest. This is true of mind, body, and soul. Some is seen, some unseen.

We only stop growing when we expire and we should never give up. Sometimes growing is painful. Sometimes growing is sad. Sometimes growing is possible. Sometimes growing is raw. Sometimes growing is uncontrollable. Sometimes growing is harsh. Sometimes growing is feeling. Sometimes growing is reaching. Sometimes growing is weak. Sometimes growing is rest. Sometimes growing is slow. Sometimes growing is being loved.

We are never perfect and the past is said and done. Sometimes imperfect is beautiful. Sometimes imperfect fits just right. Sometimes imperfect is oh so fine. Sometimes imperfect is what it is. Sometimes imperfect is spontaneous. Sometimes imperfect is scary. Sometimes imperfect is calm. Sometimes imperfect is explosive. Sometimes imperfect is wanted. Sometimes imperfect is accepted. Sometimes imperfect is chosen. Sometimes imperfect is well loved.

Let one learn another's life and nourish their growth as one teaches another through presence and acceptance of imperfection. One is reactive, one is observative. One feels, one calculates. Both decide based on data from inside data from outside. Write a story together, write a story that is honest. Write a story of love, joy, beauty, and peace.

Padeabar

Grow cold
Freeze your overflowing waters
This desert will not accept your flood
Grow dry
Parch the lands as nothing can bloom
Proceed with caution, the cacti are overwhelmed
Grow numb
Frostbite is sweeter than fire
Remember you cannot be in between
Embrace the tundra,
You
Are
Too
Much
Too little, always, extreme
Remain barren, cultivate death, garnish pain for that is your name
Pain, death, barren

The world prays against you, none want to be your prey
Victimize your overbearing suffocation and cease for eternity
Be no more, retreat, find solitude for the solace of nature
Love cannot breathe in you
Tenderness is smothered by you
Gentleness is crippled near you
Exhile yourself, away, away
Leave them be, leave them be, leave them be

I Missed Out

Dear So and So,

While my soul is in a coma the world around me continues. Most of the time all I can do is breathe. Sometimes I am lucky and I eat. Sometimes I am lucky and I sleep. Sometimes I remember what it was like to live and not just survive. The reality of the difference crushes me.

          I am the worst friend to have. Selfishly digging for scraps of food and ungrateful for that food which I do get. I never call, I never text, because I lay here wondering how long I have left to force myself to breathe again. There are flashes of hope; that one person who cares and loves me, but when they are living I have nothing to sponge off from them.

          Their face changes. Once they pass it is the silence again. The dark ceiling that presses into your psyche and all you want is sleep and freedom from the endless stream of memories. I used to be fully human, fully living. Yet here I am and I am left to the effort of filling and emptying my lungs again and continue the passing of time, and continue the use of energy that makes my body need more fuel.

          Please stop. Please stop needing fuel. Please stop consuming and giving nothing in return. Please stop being a vegetable. I wanted a living will. Is this not the same as life support? Please pull the plug. I fade away because all I do is take. I know this because you never need me, much less want me. I am so very sorry.

Love,
Needy Little Zombie

Still

Silence, sometimes I hate silence. It seems to confirm all my deepest fears as there are no real answers I am left with a void and just my imagination to fill it. Then there is a silence that calms me, which I would call stillness because warmth is still present, and  nothingness hasn't won any ground. There is peace.

I find it hard to sleep with silence. Then in stillness I can shake off any ghosts of past days and remember present day peace. There I find rest and security. An embrace that shakes the universe within my heart yet quiets the universe around me. There is nothing that I crave more when I am discouraged or stricken by pain or suffering. That grounding caress of love and stillness such a lovely event eludes me. It has been years since I found such peace.

Yet the craving for blood and pain has surfaced once again, and I question, "how deep will this one be? Will I cut to the veins?" If I could punish myself for breathing I would. Instead I am punished for that which I am not.

Anticipation

You wait, and you wait, you check, and then you check again. Maybe you missed it, you check again. Maybe you let it slip your mind too long, check again. It's been long enough, a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, you check again... You count how many times you've checked because something is wrong...

Something you long for is missing. It should be there but you are wanting. You are less without it; a breath has yet to be breathed. Where is it? Maybe something changed, maybe, just maybe, you looked for it incorrectly, check again, okay, one more time... Maybe... it is no more. Now your life is different. Now you mourn a loss. You must find a way to move on.

Now you anticipate nothing. You wait for nothing. You hear, feel, and see nothing. You wake to nothing. You dream of nothing. You live for nothing, yet here is another breath. You miss waiting, and checking, it was better than nothing. There was hope and a painting. There was vision and a path. There was a plan, formless or solid, but steps to be taken, nonetheless. Did you ever ask?

Where did it go? What changed? How much time would, should, could pass until next time? Was something wrong? Could something have helped it along? Should something have changed? Did something finally kill it? Does life have a chance without sustenance? Does a river contintue to run without a source?

Did I forget to say how much it means to me? Did I forget to boast about how beautiful and wonderous it is? Did I forget to mention what a grand gift this is? Did I ever conclude it is such a necessary thing to have around? Was I ever thankful? Maybe I just lied when it was asked of me. Maybe it was always nothing at all. Maybe I was being nice, and it never came to mind at all. Maybe I never wanted or needed it at all.

Who needs extra baggage? Who wants excess fat? A simple life is easier, all this extravagance is for the rich and the fools. No need for that, my friend, keep your silly trinket! Oh no, pal, not today, sorry move along. That's okay, much more important things to cover, thanks. Ah, yes, just the thing to collect some dust in the attic. No, no, no trouble at all, just something to pass the time.

What's that you say? Your soul? What about it? Aah, well, little one, I am afraid you have been wasting your time. We have no room for that nonsense here. Now, please, grow up and make yourself useful. Put away those silly toys. Come, let's go do something a bit more reasonable, leave that for simpler times.

So sad you wasted so much of that "soul" on something so meaningless. Didn't anyone tell you? It's way past midnight and yes, that is indeed a pumpkin and some mice. No, that was just a bedtime story. You're not a child anymore. I took you for granted? Ha, don't be silly child, it makes no difference to me and my life. Now out you go into a brave new world, no more coddling here. Yes, good bye then.

How Do I know What Has Not Been Known

Something aches

in my depths

When you are far

Perhaps the sound

of lies escaping

once conquered

How fragile is truth,

as a breath that leaves,

my lungs longing for air

Faith in the unknown,

that which has no shape,

that which is a tale…

How does it taste?

How does it feel?

How do I know?

As if the heavens

planted a map

like the moon's aura;

The ballets

of tree limbs that

tremble my soul

or the ebb and flow

of ocean caressing land,

solid and liquid intermingled.

I recall a dream

never dreamt

always bared

the scent of bliss

the warmth of trust

the taste of light

water meets earth

fire meets air

soul meets flesh

You were near,

fear receded,

strengths exchanged

I was here

guard receded

weaknesses embraced--

Beauty as we breathed

Your heart, my hand…

My spirit, your eyes…

Linger on my lips longer,

as I long for you,

live locked within me

Peace and chaos

Conflict and reconcile

Balance, we are love

Apathy

         It is sad when apathy creeps in... When I see post after post completely overloaded with emotion and I know or see these people in real life (and it used to be week to week) and they are just the same as they would be any other day. I truly wonder if anyone really grieves or feels anything when they blast it on social media. I see them later, perhaps the same day, fresh faced, no sleep lost, not even a grimace in their eyes, after they say things like "it hurts so much." I turn to be unphased and untrusting. I turn to be weary of all the latest issues even though at some point I did feel an immense weight over these things so much that I did lose sleep, I could not eat, and I could barely function at some points. I wonder then if it is solely I who feels deeply and actually puts weight to every word I say, good or bad. This cannot be true. There must be others who are earnest with their words.
         It seems so very easy to fight it out on a website with someone else, so easy to say whatever your conscience has decided is right based on whatever drives you even if it pushes people who were once close to you further and further away. "Stand up and be heard!" Is that the price of this "freedom of speech" we claim to own in the USA? Is that how one chooses to own that right, to be so engrossed in an opinion, that may very well change within minutes given the right circumstances, that you make an enemy of another human being and feel justified? You feel justified over an idea that is so gray and so technical and so complicated more then you feel justified to respect another human? It is true that in this society we are so physically disconnected with one another yet so intimately connected in mind because of the ease of access to thoughts and ideas. It adds a sense of being able to release deep pain or joy without the need of being known, labeled, or identified solely by that emotion or happening. It gives you the freedom to be anonymous, yet is it really freedom?

         Our thoughts and ideas have become so outside of ourselves that we also take the thoughts and ideas of others outside of them. A human with flesh, blood, emotion and a heart beat, breathing air in and out is on the other side of that screen. However, we seem to define our very identity by our ideas because without then some may say we aren't even human. We have heard this is every which way and form but what grieves me now is how humans are lost in a sea of heated emotional out bursts, the latest trends if games, sports, pass-times and whatever is making money for someone out there be it the media or the people feeding these new games and applications to us. Do we need a device to dictate how long we have walked to get  sense of accomplishment? Do we need a device to tell us who of our friends is acceptable?

         Debates have become cut throat, ultimatum land where you must, surely you must, agree one side of the latest "injustice" and have a clear argument or you have no value as a human being. Do we even know what love is anymore? A person who I hold value in not because I know him well nor because he has gained any deep sense of trust but because we shared words in person more than once, was in the hospital very recently. The news of this was posted in a popular social media website, completely over shadowed by endless rants about whatever was a hot topic that week. What if I had never seen him again, hey, not sure if I still might never see him again, but right now I know I have a chance. It was always important to me to keep tabs on people, day to day, week to week, month to month. It would often depend on the accessibility to each individual person. I fell victim, however, to this circus phenomena of "what is everyone angry about this week?" These issues were always things that I thought mattered, my guess is that it is the same for many others who rage online, but what has mattered most to me, most of my life, is truly knowing the hearts of those with whom I can share and have life.
         There was a time I was told I had a big heart. Today it seems to have grown such deep callouses that I mock whatever it is that is hyping up everyone I know. Do I still care about these things, to some degree, yes. However, I would rather talk about whatever is effecting my friend today, right now, good or bad because that is tangibly the only real and true way I have of loving a human being. I don't want to shove my head in the sand and act as if the rest of the earth does not exist, but the more I think of those things which I cannot solve in a million years the more it hurts. A friend recently made me see something I realized a while ago, I cannot give myself room to enjoy life because of all the hurt out there, sometimes it is all I can see, and I turn to myself, who I pushed to live a life of love, and tell her, you fail, everyone one you love is hurting, and all you can do is laugh. It is far too much to carry; especially when I read one thing and see another. It is hard enough to love one person fully, yet I truly believe to love one person with all your heart is more in the end because love is interesting that way, when it is real it over flows, and reaches far beyond our limits. Am I happy about the violence in the world, no, but I can't do much more than what is within my reach. That should be enough for anyone to feel accomplished. I think that is all I wanted to say right now.

Who

          Who am I off the stage? Who am I when I have nothing to offer or give? I am told I am brave to go on a stage and sing a song, strum a guitar, but to me, performing is easy. Let me put on an image, a strength, and give every last ounce of me that I have to give, that is the easiest thing for me to do. You see, even before I decided to take on a music as a career I have been an excellent performer. I spent my life hiding myself to be a strong, independent child, who then became a woman, and I dealt with my inner darkness alone.

          Depressed? Oh no, not me, smile and laugh, watch the world happen around me without taking a thing. There is no room for me to be taking, this world is full of greed, I refuse to be another mouth to feed, I refuse to be another weak human being.
There came a time when I just wanted to stop fighting, but then I wondered "why am I here taking with nothing to give, nothing to offer?" Why should I be here at all? Why can I not just stand on my own two feet, and breathe and love others? What I didn't see is that love is an exchange so when I needed I felt shame, when I was weak I felt guilt. So when that happens I shut down and sit in silence until I can find the strength to live again... The problem is however that I am human, and now I have depleted all my resources because I was constantly giving to no be a burden and I honestly don't know how to receive anything.

          It isn't that I don't want to receive, at this point, I just don't know how, and I much-less know how or when to ask. I feel like an intruder, even when someone invites me into their life. In my mind, the person who loses sleep for you, stops their life for you wants to invest in your life and your health, that is a person who loves you. That is what I understand as love. It is for that reason I will lose sleep for you, I will suffer for you, I don't mind and will never mind because you are important to me. When I love I give.

          Mom did that for my brother when he was a baby, and later for me when I was a baby. My mom spent years in a painful and damaging relationship because it was the only way she knew to care for my brother and I, the only way she was sure that we would be fed, sheltered and cared for and whole. I remember her fighting sleep to cook for us, or even spend time with us, despite having to wake up at 3 am for a job where she was sexually harassed and physically overworked. That to me was love, but as a child who loves her mother and has never had a child of her own, I never stopped to think she was receiving from us, for whatever reason, she benefited from my brother and I just being her children.

          So as I sit here, and I cannot give, and especially when I need, I see no reason for me to breathe. It is silly really, because when I care for those I love, the very reason I give, it doesn't feel like anything is taken from me. To be honest, when I can give I feel alive, but I cannot seem to accept that someone else giving of themselves to me is just as beautiful and fufilling and human to them as it is when I give.

          Who am I when I am not performing, not on a stage, not trying to be super human? I am myself, and she is weak and strong all at once, she is human. Who is each of us when we are both weak and strong? We are all beautiful and able to make bonds of an endless exchange, humans who are able to love. There is joy in giving; I really hope to give myself room to find joy in trust and receiving. All these years and I still don't know how to be loved because I don't trust enough, and faking is easier than living.

Harmony

Sometimes I just want to harmonize.  I want to mesh my voice with another and not have any plans of where it's going or what we are doing. The composers and arrangers who give us predisposed parts and chord progressions are beautiful and I enjoy interpreting that art, yet there is something I have longed for, longer than I can even sense. I want to make mistakes with someone. I want to have a vague feeling of what I am doing and where we are going and just run with the rhythm like a mighty river that just takes you in, and just flow with the music. There was always something captivating to me when watching a jazz combo play and improvise. The sense that the musicians know eachother and just feel a common energy that is leading them all to one beautiful moment that will never happen again. I was told it takes chemistry and it takes practicing together to build that chemistry so you can feel each other. I wanna guess it also takes openness and acceptance of one another, flaws and all. While the rhythm section keeps the heart beat, and the rest feel the melody, one body a single organ creating its own child. I have never gotten to experience something like that, though. I have rehearsed with someone usually for one performance and we both or all have a predetermined road to take. To make music out of a moment with another, however, that I long for... to just wait and feel it and have that freedom, I long for that. Sometimes when I am singing in a car to a tune everyone knows I get a sense for it... but I can't sink into it... Then the song ends and the moment ends or there is an interruption. It's five thirty in the morning and all I can think of is wanting to feel the music with someone. I want nothing more than to hear that song that follows me like I feel when I am alone with my guitar, yet have the beauty to hear it with another person, through another person and unite our heart beats... Alas... Tonight or this morning is a weird one. Sorry I haven't posted in so long. Life has been more external contemplation than internal and that makes for less writeable moments. Is that a word? Welp, just striaght thoughts here.
You know there was this church I joined once based on that feeling, and I have never joined churches because of arbitrary or superficial things like well they set the stage like this or their building is this or the music is that... I would choose based on theology or where the spirit was moving me at the time. Regardless, I remember following this feeling of synergy that was shared amongst this group of musicians that seemed familiar, hinting to something eternal that follows me. I think there is a magic in synergy, and the thing about churches is the crowd joins in the concert and I won't get too much into that here; they call their concerts worship. Anyway, when I felt that shared energy I felt more than alive. It's been a while now and I haven't seen or felt chemistry between musicians like that since then. I wonder if that is what makes some music feel dead to me, or maybe it's just lonely. Maybe all the musicians have talent and all the technical things are there, or maybe the musicians are obviously flawed and have no technical knowledge but that chemistry, that grooving together is there and I don't hear the actual notes I feel the spirit of the music and what it is meant to be and where it is supposed to take me and all of us.
I have this deep longing for home, my theory is we all do, that we all long to be home and unveiled to our creator, to have that deep intimacy with the maker of all things, to tap into the universe and take root. This is what music should be, and all the arts I believe, but many of the arts aren't as communal and I think some of its communal sense has been lost as we became "civilized" but dance and music are the two that I can easily say bring you to feel our creator, in the moment, and feel connected to another human, whether they are weak in the moment or strong, you feel one another and there is that wholeness and reconcile to creation. We are vagabonds whose home is within us and around us... but we choose to not belong or we are forced to be homeless wanderers. We don't feel the energy of creation that is in the earth and the sky and every living being. We close our hearts and guard our souls in fear, in pain, in guilt, in shame. I want to sing with someone unveiled and unafraid...

Earthman

The one
the body who feels like... the earth
Warm, and gentle, breathing within peace
fierce heart beats erupting with fire and magma
A swaying mind swirling as waves
oceans and leagues of depth rushing wild rivers
terra solid and tilled, harrowed and firm
giving way yet never eroding to lies or fallacy
That spirit, that sense,  that sweet sensuous vine
pulsing through to every chattering branch
brooding with fruit ripe and seed
he envelopes me in his anchoring vibe
the birds sense the dance twittering in song
I can't shake it
Who would want to?
This twisting and breaking over crashing thunder
writhing while rising to spread and fall
to quench the land that has been chained and forgotten
rain down caressing broken arid skin
My thrist drowns and shudders
as my hairs awake and I quiver
his love inundates my soul
I can taste it, this life unknown
a comrade to be born, a thrill
a yerning burn that cools and sooths the scars and wounds
shaking the fears to which I cling
death is abandoned no cold blooded display
What mystery awaits this ecstasy and elation
while endorphins rush my rhythm and rhyme?
I can't deny it, it's almost a drug
Yet this is too pure to be dirty addiction
too real, too weary, too imperfect in beauty
too calm, too organic, too metered and balanced
Come flooding memories of the face within me
this earth vibrates with the echo of home
Can I dare a stare to stars too long
or wait for the moon to hide its face?
I shan't be mistaken, I'm dreaming
awake, alive and loving this tide
This is the time, this is...
the one who feels like the earth made yet I am undone

I Fight Alone

You may have kind words
and play comrade under the sun

You may say we are one
and claim our blood is a shared body
broken and spilled

Integrity is key dearest:

Little words and little actions,
Large gestures and heavy lectures,
smooth talk sermons; what's that!?
Soap box delivery of self righteous soliloquies

Every breath you take in to release
gives light and body to your spineless soul, and
dictate the frivolous hot air you propagate with poise

What a lovely peacock skeleton

Your soul is void
Lies from the netherlands
of night's darkest shadows
Where no moon shines and stars flee and hide
Where do you abide, where is your dwelling place?

Face first in the ash

I can hear it loud and clear
the rejection of life, tides, and the wild ride
All your fears catalyzing your cowardice
as you claim to change these dark borders
Creation's suicide, I see no progress

All I see are children lost
in myth anthologies that they still can't understand
How many times can you read love
yet stand still and watch the world burn

While you pat your back for surviving in slavery
Your sisters are exposed!
Your brothers are numb!
Your fathers exploited!
Your mothers ravaged!

Wake up, wake up! Are you still deaf? Are you still blind?

What flesh are you giving to words you hold dear?
Rotting zombies expecting rebirth
never dying to the chains of the deceiver
Shed the death you carry
Fess up to your immaturity

"Firend,"
I fight alone...

Ooh New Song!

So I am super excited cause I wrote a new song today and I decided to share it to maybe light a fire under my bum. It's called "Listen" for now anyway, and then soon I will have a real post, I know... it's been a while my faithful reader(s).

Oh can you hear?

Oh can you see?

Vibrations on the wind are calling,

            they’re calling

Reflections on life and breath are dancing

            they’re resting

Do you not remember love is in each breath,

            every moment?

Do you not remember to die is to live so surrender

            Awaken, awaken-e-en

Oh can you rise, rise

Oh can you shed tears off your back, take another step,

fight, fight

Don’t you dare back down, have you no spine,

Remember love is not dead, we must cling to life

Who will you leave behind, sitting in your coffin,

            rise, rise

Sparrow, I can see you

Lily I can feel you

Reach out to this light I have for you

Break the shadows with one word,

Don’t let this darkness swallow you,

You can’t be in slumber forever

            my love, my love

Oh can you listen, listen

Oh can you watch, keep watch

My love, my love I am always with you

            fear not, fear not

            awaken-e-en, rise

            my love, my love

Hey you peeps!

Sorry I have been neglecting my blogging, a lot has been going on and I will have a real post soon, but I wanted to tell you all that I made a new page that helps fans help creators keep creating and sustain themselves! Check it out by clicking this link! SabiLewSounds Patreon Just so you know there are extra perks for helping me out if you can! The details are on the site. Peace and love all!

Here I Am

Another music video :) hope you enjoy share and stuff if you do...

I Got Fired!

Re: Science Mike

I guess I talk too much... but Science Mike is writing a book and he asked for help from his fans and facebook didn't like my comment so I am putting it on here in hopes that it will reach him,  so here goes... he asked us to reply to him with the following:

1. A time you felt like God answered your prayer.

There was a time, probably three years ago now, my mom had a last minute procedure that needed to be done it was supposed to be an ambulatory type surgery, we all expected her to go home later that day. First, (I have no license) it was hard for me to find someone to take her to the hospital because she wasn’t supposed to drive for two weeks after the surgery. Out of a whim we ran into a friend who was asking how we were and she offered to drive us to the hospital for the, it was a prayer in the back of my mind that we find help… later after the surgery Mom had a terrible reaction to the anesthesia, turns out she is probably allergic or just has a bad time with it, seems she had a bad reaction when I was a toddler or new born back in Cayman Islands so there was no medical history to point back to it (she told me about it after the surgery, saying something like “Oh yeah last time I had anesthesia I was throwing up”) needless to say I had no idea about this bad reaction or the danger of it, and since the doctors in Cayman Islands didn’t seem to communicate that to Mom… well let me tell you this way…

I got called back to the recovery area before she was fully conscious, the nurse said Mom was screaming in pain. She was simply praying in English (her second language) and the nurse didn’t understand her or whatever. I am not sure if it was the combination of like three pain pills the nurse gave her and the anesthesia but Mom kept falling asleep and when she would fall asleep she would stop breathing, her BP (which she had hypertension) would drop and her heart would almost stop completely. I was alone, with my sibling refusing to answer the phone (or couldn’t cause of work in my mind it was different) and I had no one to turn to… Mom was steps away from death and I wasn’t ready to lose her. Who is ever ready to lose a parent, right? But Mom is young and had so much more wisdom and beauty to offer the world. Anyway, I prayed because it was all I knew to do… soon enough Mom pulled through just fine and had barely any pain in healing from the surgery. So I think that was answered prayer.

2. A time you felt like God did not answer your prayer.

Oh, this is hard, and I guess more personal…? Maybe I don’t wanna answer this one, ha ha… Um, well, maybe something smaller, I prayed many times for my dad to stop smoking, especially after he got emphysema, but I am pretty sure he is still a smoker. I never hear from him now so it kinda became a pointless prayer and I stopped asking God to lead him away from tobacco.

3. A time prayer made you feel closer to God.

So… I have spent years feeling like an odd duck, when I was younger and knew God but had no “community” I felt like I couldn’t understand people in or out the church. Later I ended up joining a church and felt like no one understood a lot of things about me and the things I liked making… Soon enough I was going from church to church then I was really close to losing my faith, with so many things that didn’t add up, to so many people letting me down, misunderstanding me, and then not fitting in with people who don’t care about God, yet understanding a lot of their world… I don’t even know how to explain it now really… but I really longer for clarity, for security in my identity, all of it not in fragments. I longed for a home. I just wanted to abide in Christ, and have Him abide in me. Artists understood me as an artist, Christians as a Christ-follower trying to be a “little Christ”, intellectuals as a person in search of answers, and being okay with not knowing all, or having any clear but definition to what I “believe” except what I have witnessed and that knowing only part of what I think God is, is okay, and finding Him in everything… anyway… I felt misunderstood and unwanted, wandering in an endless sea, with no anchor except that I believe. I believe God is…

By some sort of chance, researching music and how music is not “worship” and my deep frustration and isolation because of what I see as a lack of community for people who think like me, I was checking up on Gungor with no internet access of my own and I ran into The Liturgist, a blog or something explaining who the Liturgists were and why it all came about. A little time passed, (earlier this year I suppose) and I was at my wits end, ready to turn away from everything I loved and believed. Suddenly I had internet access and remembered the Liturgists and now there was a pod cast and I listened to every episode all summer. Suddenly my heart found its home again, suddenly a constant conversation with, who I call God, what I consider prayer, made sense. Suddenly my whole life started making sense again, and I found Him again, listening to strangers (who now feel closer and more tangible than many in my physical life), suddenly the body of Christ and everything I have known Him to be made sense again, and I wept in my cubicle listening to a simple repetition of “My God loves me… My God loves me… My God loves me…” Suddenly, my prayer for community led me to find His feet again, and everything that didn’t make sense in my faith was wiped away.

4. Any combination of the above.

The very first time I spoke to God was when I was a teen or child or somewhere in between maybe twelve, thirteen…? I was listening to a song by Jaci Velasquez called Speak for me and the words “Speak for me this my plea. Say the words I can't express. Sing for me a heavenly melody that the people will be blessed, speak for me” hit me somehow, deeply a way I could never explain then but later I would come to understand as the presence of God, or what I like to call His presence. Because of all the pain and hurt I had seen and learned about in the world, then, even as a child, I asked this of Him “in my heart.” I wanted my words to bring life to others, I wanted my life to bring about love and joy and peace to those around me, as much as possible, knowing somehow I would fail but to do my utmost best and try my hardest to so do… So I asked for that without even knowing what I was asking. I suppose it was like a wish at the pit of my psyche, at the very back of my mind and I never thought about it again… Within two years I was writing stories, songs and poetry just out of the things I was learning in school and seemed to love to do and soon enough it was all I could think about. I would go to bed thinking of my stories, come home from school rush through my homework to write the next scene, sing a melody over and over and over in the shower or wherever else I was alone until I could write down the words to remember it forever. Soon enough the drawings I did for just fun became another way of communication, another way to give life to others, but I didn’t know it then, or call it that. It’s been whatever amount of years since then (I am 31 now) and really, that is all I know to do that I can say are my “talents” and somehow I have grown to be a person that hears many tell her “you have a big heart,” so I feel like (even as this feels so prideful to say) God taught me much about love, and giving love and particularly communicating about love and that is how I feel I best give love to others, so I think it was answered, in a very long and roundabout way. Now I just got fired and have no way to feed my family (my mother and I) so I am freaking out, but I have a lot of time to invest in these things that I love that I asked for years ago, and I think kinda molded my mind to SUCK at normal jobs, so I became what I asked for, even despite what that means, but I did ask multiple times for God to help me provide for my family and being less than three weeks away from probably being homeless isn’t very much looking like answered prayer… however, answers come in many forms and not always the way we expect them to, so I am not discouraged, just scared out of my mind. Hope this helps, sorry I am so long winded.

Silence

So I made my very own first music video :3 Please have a listen, love and peace!

Molecules

Sometimes I wish I could
Just shut up

I wish I had no words
Especially as there is no one
To hear to listen to feel
As I speak into space
(Cause I hate containing this)

Talk over me, give me no room, quiet me
I miss my silence
I miss my peace
Yet my silence was fear
And as love grew near...

As I speak into space
Is anyone out there needing
Is anyone out there bleeding
Is anyone out there healing

I feel like the rain
That seeps into a home
Destroys treasures and warmth
Makes the known unknown
Forgotten unheard

Wish I were the rain
That quenches the earth
Longing for relief from thirst and fire
That nurtures the weary
Sooths the burning the seething

As love grew near
I found words
I found color and light
I found songs and life
Is anyone listening
Is anyone deaf from pain
Is anyone numb from blame
Is anyone out there
Is anyone out there
Is anyone out there

Quiet me,  shush me, hold me, warm me
I am floating in a vacuum
Losing all my essence
Can anyone hear me

Each word a lost waft of heat
Every thought a vapor of breath fading
I will breathe my last into nothing
Pray something births in darkness
In longing brings reconcile to life

As love grew near
I wanted to speak
Awaken the slumbering soul
That has been tortured and burned
I wanted to sing lullabies to dream

Strengthen the weak heart
That has been dry and used
Come back home
Rest in peace
Live in love

Is there anyone out there