Sorrow @ MindSay

What I am is a witness. I see so many things. I have seen that God creates wonderous and beautiful landscapes, sunrises, sunsets, animals, plants, stars colors, clouds, trees, flowers and people.

 

I have seen a forgiving, endless love that fills the room when it enters. I have seen the miracle of child birth and the sting of the death of a person taken too soon. I have seen lives of those who have lived long enough to tell tales of things I have never known. I have seen the oceans tide rise and falls and the mountains big and tall! I have seen the extreme and ubearable heat take it's toll on everything from people to vegetation, and I have seen the spring rains soak the parched earth and over flow the saturated ground.

 

I have seen tears from a sorrow so seemingly deep the pain is everlasting. I have seen tears turn to laughter. I have seen laughter turn to intense pain and back again with what would seem like the touch of a button. Emotions: Love, Hate, Envy, Anguish, Sadness, Arrogance, Excitement, Sorrow. These emotions are what we are made of.

 

We are witnesses to the everyday struggles of the people around us, big and small. Everyone struggles with something. When you are a witness to the pain in someone's eyes, do you think about why they are sad? Do you think about whether or not they have someone to turn to? Do you wonder what they are thinking about?

 

These are interesting questions. A person sees beauty, whether it be false beauty or real untouched beauty. We comment on beauty, we want beauty, we strive, obsess and worry about whether we are as beautiful as the next person. This obsession might not be as obvious in men as it is in women, but we all want to be liked, loved and thought about. This obsession is hurting us. It brings us down, causes sorrow, self dought, low self-esteem, and pain.

 

When we see someone with pain or sorrow in their face, do we keep walking past? Do you say a little prayer or pass by oblivious of anyone elses pain? We need to be witnesses to the people who are in pain, the people who are struggling with their problems. Pain and beauty go hand and hand. You may be beautiful and have so much more inner saddness that you pass by your own beauty and stop and stare at someone elses.

 

We need to be witnesses to ourselves...To stop and think about our actions and how they can help change someone's life!!! If we can change the way someone sees the sunset, or the fog it could make a huge difference in their lives...and, it will make a much bigger difference in your own. Making a difference in someone's life will help them and you to see the beauty God has created for us to enjoy.

 

He does not want us to be envious of what other people have. We don't know what they had to give to get it, whether it be their beauty or their material possessions. People often have things they take for granted. That my friends is what we need to be witnesses of, things we take for granted.

 

I wanted to tell you about a song by Brandon Heath called "give me your eyes." This song talks about how we walk by people everyday who are smiling through the pain, they are the walking myserable. Brandon asks God to give him His eyes to see what God sees.

"Give me your eyes for just one second, give me your eyes so I can see everything that I keep missin, give me your love for humanity, give me your heart for the broken hearted the ones that are far beyond my reach!"

 WOW!! That is powerful because people walk by us everyday, at work, school, at HOME, your neighbors, your fellow members of church or the lady at daycare who need some encouragement. And, the good thing about all of this is WE can be witnesses to them. We can be God's eyes, hands and heart! If you can be a witness to someone about something beautiful that they have been taking for granted maybe you can change the way they see the sunset or the rain or even a thunderstorm!!

 

God needs us to move... to be his hands and feet and voice to the ones who need HOPE! Even if it is just saying, 'Hey, I understand and I will be here for you if you need me.'

 

Please pray for the ones around you, you never know who God needs you to witness!!!

 

God Bless <>< 

I wanna scream i wanna cry. how am i so fucking stupid when i get anxious. Why cant i talk to new people. why can't i express myself freely any time i know someone is really paying attention to me. why do i always feel so fucking stupid around half way intelligent people. i am tired of being around idiots, yet thats what i feel i have become socially. socially awkward at least. i can't talk to new people. females the worst.  WTF is up with that. What stops my brain from functioning, what makes my heart run cold trying to leap at my chest. why do i feel every nerve ending in my face and see their eyes washing over me, knowing they are so attentive to my every gesture and feeling. why do i have to understand what people are thinking why do i read it in their face. and why does it paralyze me knowing every action i make affects them affects the conversation, word choice body language, timing placement i fucking hate this mind. Why can i see everything so clearly and it all goes blank in a frenzy of anxious flippant fucking retardation.  I truly hate myself. Could i only close my eyes to what ive opened them to. i don't want to understand i don't want to feel this way.  It stops me from interacting, it tears me down from the inside, my words become meaningless my thoughts revert to nothing, i hear a voice that i can't quite connect with and words i didn't mean to say in a slurr of excitement.  I feel my mind cutting corners just to get the point across when SOO accurately if i were not feeling these feelings i could express every everlasting detail without a stutter without the slightest of pause in confusion.  How can i stop myself from being affected by this crippling feeling.  i hate myself for it. im so fucking articulate, i can speak so well when i have the words. but put me under the slightest bit of pressure and i become a bumbling fucking idiot. i hate myself. why do people affect me? is it because i care? do i care that fucking much i don't want to look like an idiot so i go and make myself look like one for shits and giggles. Im so tired of humanity society judgements. all of it.  i just want to find peace of mind i just want to find that spot inside of me that makes me glow and run as fast as i can with it. Fear paralyzes me. i can't handle this. im going to burst from inside, start cutting my face open and ripping this body to shreds. i hate with such unrivaled passion one would only see such devotion in but a single other place and that is in how i love.  Love turns to hate. caring turns into loathing, sadness turns to anger, loss into negative gain  and all the while i want to curl up in a ball screaming and crying that this world is a terrible place.  I block soo much out every day just so i can try to find some bitter happiness. so i can go on living this pathetic life we all strive for in society.  mean while we destroy all of our resources. herd animals to slaughter them so we can grow fat from their tortured meaningless lives ending in a cruel murder.  We destroy nature to build more cities for all these fucking people. all these heartless fucking people that want to be loved and they have their own dreams and aspirations yet unknowingly they destroy the world they find so beautiful. i hate this sick fucking cycle. i don't want to be apart of it. yet i strive just to be happy and i can't find that i'll nevr find that truly. we are creating a hell. USE USE USE and what will be left when we are done. its all hopeless. its all so bitterly hopeless that nothing can be right when you feel the pain of the ones with no voices to call out for themselves. i am not weak. but i feel weak, am i weak mentally emotionally physically what am i? who am i? how much money do i  make where do i live what kind of clothes do i where, is my music better than yours. am i rich am i poor do i do drugs am i straight edge. am i ghetto hip cool goth punk emo scene preppy nerdy smart mean funny dark mysterious happy sad complacent.  where am i going where have i been what impact will i leave what movie comes out next week. who is famous who is popular why does it matter and everyone cares bustling about in their own minds stealing their time from something somewhere an existent meant to be blessed freedom of choice. the choice to hate the choice to belittle one another, the choice to hurt, restrain, steal  have longing lust heartbreak emotion past present future, cars bikes gas taxes food luxuries red carpet or blue carpet venti or grande buy and sell our souls for what time? time taken away for work poor wages and a shitty manager or a great manager and good money what is the price of time what is it worth how much do we have is it even real. does nay of this matter and why do i fucking care. i hate. i hurt. i think too much. people don't like me because i have NO SELF CONFIDENCE. im 6 feet tall im not fat, im not skinny. im average. im really smart. im not extremely good at anything. im better than average at everything. my interests vary i like it all. my ONE driving force is love.  and the lack there of brings me to hate. Why can't everything be as simple as nature. true unjudging and always beautiful. no one cares. not even me. we are all lost souls. So very lucky there is no balance to weigh ourselves between good and evil. if when we died there truly heaven and hell. there would be no one in heaven to keep god company.  we are all selfish, self righteous no one does anything for kindness. and i can't be that person. i can't hold myself above that bar. i hurt to much i act rashly i can't control my emotions i have pent up hurt and anger. and one day i will explode if i can't lose all this and im so afraid of what someone soo shy caring and loving will become or have i not already become that person. Fuck me.

  So.. I'm basicly about to cry now.. I feel like love is a brutel mistake.. For the selfish.

If so.. Then I'm selfish.. Someone shoot me!!

So I'm in love with this amazing guy.. And I don't talk to him much during the day. If I do at all..

So I basicly call him late at night. Only for a few hours.. Thats all I ask for.. Is a few hours of his time..

He promised me yesterday since he didn't talk that night. That today he'd be all mine..

Well.. now it came about mid-night and I asked him if I could call or whatever..

And hes like I'm playing games. So no.

And I'm just thinking... Games are more important then I am now.. Wow..

I mean great.. I feel so fricking loved.. ._.

I've avoided him before, because I thought he needed space. But when I stopped I promised not to ever do it

again..

So now I'm thinking I should disapear and avoid him again.. But I remembered that I promised not too..

And I'm like.. Well.. I can't run away everytime I feel like he needs space..

So I tell him, " Oh, don't expect to talk to me tomorrow night. "

And hes all like, " Why? "

I reply, " Because I'll be playing DDR all night or SOMETHING. "

and he says " .. Okay>< "

And so I reply, " Haha.. You must be really tired or think I'm a cruel person. "

And he says, " No.. =[ "

And I tell him how hes waay more important then a fricking game.. And stuff. And I asked him.

And I tell him the real reason why I probably won't be able to talk tomorrow. Which is today..

Which is simply because I'm not going to sleep.. And I might pass out late in the day.. So he won't catch me

on that night. And I'm like, " But its nice.. When someone thinks games are more important.. "

And hes says, " Sarah.. >< You are WAY more important. "

And I'm definitely still in disbelief so I'm like, " Mmhmm. "

And I add, " Tonight was nice.. Nice and depressing. "

Then I tell him I'm sorry.

And he says hes Sorry.. Because I think hes realizeing that I feel like utter crap right now because of him.

I said I'd keep my own damned feelings to myself and that its my fault. And if I had in the beginning just ignored my saddness and told him it was okay he can play his games or whatever.. He wouldn't of realized I was feeling sad at all. And that would of made him not feel bad..

So I tell him its okay.. And hes like.. No its not.. and I add that I don't really care.. I told him back when people.. cheated on me.. Or choose other girls over me.. And left me broken hearted. I'd leave notes to my future self.. Knowing that I would heal enough to go into another relationship at some point.. And heres a few examples.. " Remember last time.. It isn't worth it. " And. " Love isn't anything but a beginning of a taste of happiness, with a brutal end. Or a rough slow end.. Much like death or war. And that would never have happened if you wouldn't of been so selfish to long only for the beginning.. "

I AM SELFISH! X_X I have nothing against games and stuff. I love games myself.xD

And I feel like crap with a side dish of unhealthy selfishness realization or something like that.

Then he was like.. I'm going to bed.. Before I cry.. Which I have heard him cry before.. So I know it'd happen. Which means he actually understood where I was standing and on what grounds...

He was like. " I'm sorry! " And trying to rush away.. And then I said, " One more thing.. "

And hes like. " What? " I said, " I love you.. " This got me a moment of silence.. He answered, " I love you too. " And he left and since this was on messager at the time I left him a offline message. " Sweet Dreams.. I hope you know it wouldn't hurt or bother me at all.. If I didn't love or care about you.. "

 

 

Dixie currently feels:

 Alone

 

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Blog Poem #1

 

 

I'm hiding my emotions from everyone,

I hide behind my fonts and smileys and fun.

 

The red arial, size twelve. Hides all,

Except the days when I sob, cry and bawl.

 

Those days are the days when I let everything flow,

I post photos of cuts and leave it all on show.

 

I'm shit at writing poetry, but everyone says I'm not,

I'm so bad I have to use rhyming dictionaries, a lot.

 

But poems just sound so wrong when they don't,

A rhyme on the end of each line, or flow it just won't.

 

I was just laid in bed, holding her under my chin,

She still has your scent, but its vigor is thin.

 

I hold her too close, my smell is now overpowering her,

But I don't think I can let go, I need to keep a hold of her soft brown fur.

 

My structure of syllables and prose is just fucked,

Try as I might, my talent's just cooked.

 

It'll never be whatever it once was,

I've turned it all against myself, because...

 

I don't even know the reason myself,

I took too much time over your shelf.

 

If it falls down then we'll all get a pain,

Right in the skull where it'll fall to blame.

 

Blame the one who didn't tighten the rivets enough,

A defective spanner, she didn't tug it so rough.   

 

Poetry is the worst form of expression in the world.

I don't think I'll try this again... My frustration is heard.

Dixie currently feels:

 Dead

 

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Blog Poem #2

 

"Scabs"

 

 

Whenever I was hyper active,

Enjoying the way I'm supposed to live,

I'd often remark on pointless things,

And smile on the joy that my randomness brings.

 

I once often remarked, my brain was gooey,

The sky was bluey, glue sticks were gluey,

My brain was so screwy, my Converse were shoey.

 

The best thing I ever said though:

"My scabs are chewy."

 

And that's not a lie.

I'd picked one from my knee and gave it a try.

It was crunchy at first, then soft inside,

The surface was squishy, all the blood had dried.

 

Scabs are only a barrier, a mask, if you will,

They cover the wounds and they will be clean, until...

 

Until I rip them off again,

I want to see what's under them.

The wound hasn't fully healed.

 

It's bleeding now, just like when I:

Drove the cold blades into myself,

Sliced off my flesh and cut out some trenches,

I start the war, I fight the war,

I make my own barracks, eat my own stew.

 

I raise my own weapon, but not to my enemy.

I raise it to myself, and bring it down fast.

Ah... Relief at last.

 

I've made this once happy poem into something I shouldn't.

Keeping myself happy, content, I knew that I couldn't.

 

My scabs are all gone now.

I've scraped them away, pow.

 

All that's there now are the remains of the mark,

The small red indents where my silver blades park.

 

Where they dance upon me,

Take their fill of my skin, see?

 

There's one there, one here, one just near my elbow,

One down in the middle, and this one here... Oh...

 

...Maybe I shouldn't show that one to you.