My two boys :)
Debut this Saturday September 11th at 11:45pm behind Coney Island on the Strip in Stillwater, OK.
Come rock out with us :)
PROJECT LIFE: take XIIII [ got a new camera ]
more narika video goodness <3
I wish that I could build
A mountain of honest words
I would climb to the top
And see who would meet me.
I’d stay on top,
And I’d cling to my favorites.
Like passion, understanding, wisdom, and identity.
No one would come.
Not for a while.
They would see me there, and wave
And tell me they’d come
So I’d light a candle for hopefulness
Then one would start climbing
He would climb with the best shoes on his feet.
He would stride so fast
And I’d cheer him on
and throw him down my rope of exposure
And light another candle
He would ask me to meet him halfway
So I would start climbing down my words
My words that keep me astute.
I would step off of integrity, and move virtue out of my way.
I would shimmy down honesty and squash consistency in my attempts.
Another candle I would light for belief.
He would ask me to climb back down with him
And I would refuse, saying I had aspiration.
He would leave then, taking my rope
And all of the words I gave him.
I ‘d climb back on top of my mountain.
I would hold on to disparity, and security, and solidarity.
And light another candle for my sustainability.
I’d see a helicopter come towards me
My friends hanging out the windows and smiling at me.
They would laugh and sing like happiness.
But as they got closer they would throw things at me.
Things like lies, deceit, betrayal, and disgust.
They would knock me down into denial and discrimination, and keep me in harm.
I would bruise and bleed like pain.
They would fly away laughing in a cloud of falsity.
And it’s there that I would light my candle for brokenness.
An earthquake would come then and begin to shake my mountain.
Faith would break off, and trust would rattle, and strength would get buried under fear.
People would yell for me to jump down and let them help me
But I would hide under hope, and yell that I had salvation instead.
But the earthquake would get stronger
Some words turned to rocks.
And I’d get mad with anger, malice, and justice.
And I’d cry and light a sobbing candle for pride.
The candles I’d lit for myself, hopefulness the brightest, would shake with the earth
And they’d make a shapeless flame.
My dress for purity would catch fire
And the white fabric would turn black
My skin would get burned by each candle that I had lit for myself.
Eloi Eloi, lama sabachthani?
Tears of shame and wishfulness would fall
Thick enough to stain the mountain of words with remembrance
And I’d float away with the smoke
The smoke from my dress
And the rocks from the earthquake
And the blood from the helicopter
And the rope from the man
And I’d float into heaven
And Jesus would hold me then.
I would reach for his face, instead of his hand
Because I had put holes there
With things like candles.
He would wrap me up as I shake in sorrow and regretfulness
As I sob for forgiveness and beauty.
He would be my rest, and I would feel relief
And he would sing me songs of love
And cry with me whispering words like faithfulness
Honest words are meant to be spoken
And they are meant to exist as mountains.
What else do we have to represent ourselves…
And Jesus would hand me a candle
Smile, like joy
And I would have my brand new candle then
Redemption newly lit.
“I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on…”
My family that I miss so much
While the words are still there ringing in our heads.
I walked to the coffee shop when I felt the pain coming. It starts as a memory at first and then it grows and grows until the pain is full force and I’m swung back into it all again. There’s no stopping it when it hits.
As I walked i watched the people. As I sit here at the shop I normally come to with friends, I still watch them. I watch myself. I think about my past, which I don’t do too often. I think about God, which I do do often. And why I love people even though it sucks loving them. Why I continue loving them when it costs me my sanity, my serenity and my sleep.
It costs me all of this.. but “I couldn’t stop loving him.”
Through all of it, that’s what it boils down to. I can’t stop loving these people. And I don’t believe I’m meant to. Actually, I am certain that I’m not. Maybe it gives me a glimpse of what my savior feels. I serve every self-seeking bone in my body. I think of him, then look at and do things I hear him begging me not to. I tell him he can’t help me. I pierce his hands with nails moment after moment of every day. And I wonder why the hell he still whispers to me… But still I hear him,
“I couldn’t stop loving her.”
He did not take all our sins on Himself so that he could command us, “Okay, now try harder. Try HARDER. Become more loveable.” That’s not freedom—thats the last addiction…