| "My Story" |
[Sep. 4th, 2006|03:12 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Become -Goo Goo Dolls | ] |
Rough draft of an essay I have to write about a formative event in my life.
( Read more... ) |
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| A Brother's Goodbye |
[Jul. 10th, 2006|05:28 pm] |
Okay, so I've been writing a lot of World War II stuff lately. I'm on the verge of being obsessed, I think. Anyways, I've got a gander of characters, based in that time in history that I just kinda pull out and write random bits for. This part is of the Gellar family, my favorite fiction family ever :) Here's a quick history before the smidgin of a story. It's sad...
The Gellar Family, John, Ann, John Jr., Eddie, Rose, and Harry were a military family that moved all over the states from army base to army base. John Sr. claimed the looks and personalities of both John Jr. and Harry, while Eddie and Rose both looked and acted like their mother. When Harry was born, Ann had a lot of birth complications and died shortly afterwards, leaving her husband to raise the children.
John Jr. and Eddie never got along well. John was a daddy's boy, always impressing his father, while Eddie was rebellious, and hated the fact that he was expected to do as well as his older brother. John never ceased rubbing this in Eddie's face, and between this and Eddie's independent nature, their relationship fell apart and as soon as he could, Eddie left the house. John Jr joined the army just like his dad, and as soon as America was pulled into the war, so did Eddie and Harry and Rose (as a volunteer nurse). Even though they were all in the armed forces, Eddie was in the Air Force, just to be different. He never kept in contact with anyone, especially John Jr, and they hardly spoke at family functions. Now, when the tension between them is at its climax, they finally speak.
( Read more... ) |
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| The Judging of the Temple |
[Jun. 28th, 2006|04:07 pm] |
Hey my good people. I'm at Summer Scholar's camp at SEU, and I'm writing an essay for Religion on the cleansing of the Temple. Anywho, I wanted to type out a rough draft, and I needed somewhere to store it, cause I'm on the library computers. So. Here it is, you don't have to read it, though I do hope it's good, because it's half of the grade on my final.
( Read more... ) |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 17th, 2006|04:03 pm] |
God has blessed me with six wonderful friends, that I know I would have a hard time living without. They are the people I hold closest in my life, and will always be special to me.
I have a friend who is young and happy. She hasn't seen much, but she likes what she sees, and she looks forward to what she'll see in the future. She smiles often and yells some, because we're all human, and she isn't an exception. She knows that she's privledged, and she isn't fickle or wanting when it comes to personality. She loves to laugh and knows when she's found a real friend. She's loyal and true. She's finding out who she is, and changing slowly but surely to become even better. She is an incredible person and knows that God has a plan for her to be even more incredible. She's curious, and will find the answer to the question she asks. She perseveres, until she gets what she wants. She loves hard and fumes inside, spewing her frusterations when it becomes too much. But she never goes too far, and always comes back home, and knows where her heart belongs.
I have a friend who is full of care and honor. She works hard and applies herself to every task that could possibly present itself. She believes deeply in what she believes and no storm can shake her. She's strong and tightly rooted in her loved ones and God. She cares so much that sometimes she becomes so full, that she can't stand it. Sometimes she can't understand, and other times she understands best. She's slow to grudge and quick to love, and knows what she is about. She values her family more than anyone I know. She so desperately loves children, that I think she might explode sometimes. I know that people will envy her love for her own, when they come, because it will be the greatest love anyone could give. She's determined to see the world changed, and to personally pound her love and joy into the lives of other people.
I have a friend who is quietly beautiful. Not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually, and mentally beautiful. I know she's been hurt, though I can't understand the sort of pain she's felt, because I haven't. But I see her and I know that God has given her a profound sense of inner beauty that I admire. When she speaks from her heart I can feel it. She has so many talents and so many priceless moments of happiness that I want to know her more and more every time I talk to her. She is so humble and yet so ambitious, and I know she'll acheive the goals she sets for herself. She is aware of the world and of its hurts and graces. She has seen things that have brought her to the place where she is now, and she is ready to move on to what it next. She loves quietly, and hums softly her tune in the world, and it sets the mood for one of the most interesting and admirable people I know.
I have a friend who sings. He sings his heart out every day, pouring himself into his work and his loved ones. He knows what he wants out of life and he works for it, singing all the way. He sings his love songs, and sings his sad songs, but all the time he sings. God is in his every song, and he is unafraid to sing God's words loudly. He smiles while he sings, or cries while he sings, but his life is full because he sings. He sings, not only with his mouth, but with his heart, every day. God has blessed him with a voice, and he uses it for God, in turn. A physical song, and a spiritual song, my friend belts out to the world daily and I am blessed to know him.
I have a friend who laughs and cries. She has the ability to make someone smile, or make them feel her pain. Her expressions come from deep inside, and she is able to inflict a care and a want to know more about her. She is a curious and an interesting person. She attracts people from all around, as one of the more charismatic people I am aquainted with. She is utterly intriguing, like an intracate flower. She has been given the talent to entertain, and to make people happy. She uses this daily, and without any effort, can change the mood of a room within a moment. She is so incredibly different, that I can't help but want to know her better. She has been through her share of tough times, and she takes that experience and uses it. But she is not discouraged, and she does not waver in her quest for life.
I have a friend who loves. She loves so deeply and so much that it becomes impossible for her not to love. She has struggled more than anyone I know, and come through more than anyone I have come in contact with. Her life has been riddled with hate and guilt, and she has prevailed. God has brought her into his love, and she has taken it and loved others with such passion that it astounds me. She loves her family, and loves her friends, and loves those who she doesn't even know. She loves the world, and is aware of its shortcomings, but it also aware that the only thing she can do is love it. And I have been blessed enough to be loved by her my whole life. She is my best friend and the most amazing person in the world. She has taught me how to live, and most importantly, how to love.
Thank you, God, for my friends. |
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| Untitled |
[May. 2nd, 2006|10:36 am] |
This doesn't have a title, I don't know how long it's going to be, and it doesn't have anything to do with the Bacchus story. Sorry to be confusing. This is just the intro, I wanted to see if you guys found it intriguing. It will be a full-fledged story with characters and a plot, but this is all I have written, and I'm not even sure of the plot yet, lol.
My life closed twice before its close
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me
So huge, so helpless to concieve
As these that twice befell
Parting is all we know of Heaven
And all we need of Hell.
Oh, sweet Time that ticks away our moments, picking at the foundations of our lives that are doomed to crumble. And we, the helpless bystanders, the oblivious crowd that watches in confusion and dismay, comprehension dawning on us only when it is too late. What wonder and amazement once we see what out lives are, for but a moment, and then is lost. We slip into that abyss, and the empty shell of what was is left behind. When we are, we know not. And when we are not, the knowledge is lost. Lost in the uncrossable void between. What we know is that we know nothing. The uncertainty of Fate is all we are certain of. Oh, faithful Fate, stay true, that we may never know a moment of true knowledge, for it is a terrible thing. |
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| O, Hallelu |
[Apr. 13th, 2006|01:08 pm] |
The word, the phrase
The simple praise
I speak, O Hallelu
A sigh so soft
But heard aloft
One breath, O Hallelu
Relief, so sweet
A smile discreet
A laugh, O Hallelu
A want, a need
A desperate plead
I cry, O Hallelu
None so real and none so true
Hallelu, O Hallelu
Cries to God that bring life new
Hallelujah, Hallelu |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 17th, 2006|09:28 pm] |
The box in my hands holds more than just oil
But the shattered shards of my soul
They scorn my past, refuse to forget
The transgressions of which they've been told
Knees hit the floor,
Despite their foul looks, my heart is tugging me on
Break the seal to the box,
And spill forth my heart, my cares, and mem'ries long gone.
They remind Him of the cost,
Which could help feed the poor
But he says 'no', and shuns them away
He knows what I gave, what I lost, what it meant
For me to annoint Him that day
He looked me in the eyes, and thanked me for the deed
And I could then understand
That is was my sin He bore,
And was so much more
Than the broken box in my hand. |
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| Complacency |
[Jan. 11th, 2006|04:01 pm] |
Here's the lesson that I plan on teaching January 29th in the sunday night highschool class at church. Tell me what you think. Do you think it's too boring and/or over the average teenager's head? I hope not. Of course, you won't be able to see the movie clip I'm going to show, but it's the scene from the Matrix, where Neo is offered the blue pill and the red pill by Morpheus
I would love for someone to go through it though, I need some feedback before I go and teach it, lol.
( Read more... ) |
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| Pictures! |
[Nov. 26th, 2005|01:33 pm] |
I am not an artist, but I was feeling artistic, so I did these two drawings.
( Read more... ) |
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| Brilliance |
[Nov. 3rd, 2005|06:05 pm] |
Brilliance is all I ask for
A brilliant mind
A brilliant time
A piece of glory
Just a glimpse of those who went before me
A moment of revelation
A gasp of air
A second of refreshment
Peel back the dull enamel
Show me brilliance
Stop the charade
Dispell the facade
Open your eyes
Wake from the mediocrity
And show me brilliance
And then my critical eye is mocked
My bland shouts, unfounded
The false cynicism I spew
Is spit back in my face
And I realize,
I have seen brilliance
But refused to understand
True brilliance is not produced by man
A tree, a stream
The essence of souls
The creation around me
The nature of a loving heart
A kind deed done
God's face seen in the face of those who seek His heart
The revelation of the things that are brilliant, I have missed
In my blind quest for what I sought, I found another goal
I'm humbled and broken, soul laid open, and I begin to see
That God has intended to show brilliance to me
So now I begin a different quest, with a different goal
To seek my God in His brilliance, with all of my soul
~~~~~~~~~
I was rather bored at the college today and spewed that in my written journal. It turned out different than I expected. It wasn't supposed to rhym, so if it did and it was geeky, sorry. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 30th, 2005|10:08 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | I need you to Survive | ] |
I'm sort of archiving my poems in here. I wrote these a long time ago, but I wanted to keep them in here, so...here's some of Katie's old poems. Lj-cutted for your viewing pleasure.
The Artist( Read more... )
Light Bringers Few( Read more... )
Blind( Read more... )
The Longings of a Heart( Read more... )
Starry Night( Read more... )
The end! |
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| A conversation |
[Oct. 28th, 2005|10:02 pm] |
I got to know someone today. I've known my friend Nikki for a while now, but I have never had the time to sit down and really talk with her. We went to a movie, and sat on the curb afterwards, waiting for our rides. As we sat there, surrounded by people going to see their movies, I found myself opening up to her. It amazes me that you can go for months knowing someone without actually knowing them.
I said that I felt like I couldn't help people because I have never had anything bad happen to me. My life is perfect, or close to being so, and because of that fact, people tune me out. They assume that because I have not had enough bad experiences, that I must not be able to help them. I don't feel adequate, or qualified. I feel like they see me in another dimension, and not one that they can reach.
She replied, "Sometimes having a perfect life is worse. It's like you're living in a snow globe. People come by and say 'Hey, she's living her life in a snow globe' and they shake it up and the snowflakes fall on you, and they go on their way." Nikki doesn't live her life in a snow globe, but she appreciates life all the same, and she doesn't shake my snow globe.
I thanked her for the conversation and told her that I haven't talked to someone like that before. She said she hadn't either, that she felt like her good ideas and profound thoughts were shut up in her mind and forced to rot because she had no one to air them out to. I don't necessarily feel that way, I tend to vent my profound thoughts into here, or shove them on my friends. But it was different speaking to someone else, it was better. I said "I feel like it is a shame that people didn't feel the way I do now. It's not that their shallow..." and she replies, "It's that they don't know. They're genuine in how they speak, but they just don't realize that if they go a little further there's a cliff and a whole new level of depth."
It's not that other people are inadequate. I don't know what it is. It's not that their stupid either. I don't know how to explain it. But my mind was laid open tonight, and it felt good to air it out a bit. I feel so privledged and happy that I've had my little profound moment of real conversation. And it encourages me to think that maybe I'll have some more. It's like a drug, or some sweet candy that I want more of, but am not discouraged that I have none at this minute, because I know there's more out there. |
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| Starry Night |
[Oct. 26th, 2005|09:52 pm] |
If you know me, you know that I love Van Gogh's classic painting 'Starry Night'. I have a print of it on my wall, a copy of it on my locker, on this icon, and even wrote a poem inspired by it. I wanted to explain why I love this painting so much.
Starry Night always hit me as absolutely magnificent. It shows the awesome power of God and his creation. The stars are an amazing and beautiful part of our world, and most of the time we can't find the time to just look up on a clear night and look at them. They are gorgeous, and right there for us to admire. Stars have come to represent a goal, a height that we might never be able to reach, but something that we look up to, something that guides us. Stars are inspirational and captivating.
Van Gogh's portrayal of the stars is a bit exaggerated, however. The way we see them, stars are not enormous, swirling balls of fire. They're tiny, pin pricks of light against the dark sky. But perhaps Van Gogh is trying to tell us to look beyond what our naked eyes see. To see stars in all their glory, as the magnificent beacons they are. It is an exaggerated picture, but it paints a view of the stars we have not seen before.
The stars can also represent God's protection. He is watching us from above, and he looks down at that little town and smiles. And the people of the town can look up at the sky and see God's stars and know that God is protecting them, and watching over them. And then some people in the town never realize what amazing protection they have, and the awesome presence of God because they can never see the stars for what they are. Perhaps they are just seeing tiny dots in the sky.
Some of the people in the town will come out of their houses and look up at the stars. They will smile and know that God is there, and that there is something bigger in this world than their little town. They will know that they are but humble humans, in awe of the stars. But other people will ignore the stars. They will see them as nothing but balls of gas and fire billions of lightyears away. They have nothing to do with the stars, and they see no inspiration and amazement in them. They do not see stars the way Van Gogh does, they see them with blinded eyes.
And I think that is how we view life. We see what is right in front of us, but we can manage to miss the important things. We think we see the stars, but we can never really understand their glory. We think that we are all that is in this world, and we miss the fact that we are small and humble compared to God's mighty power. We forget that he is in control, and that we are a part of his plan, like the stars are. We don't take time to praise God for his creation. We take the stars for granted.
So I think Van Gogh was trying to tell us to try to look at the stars with unveiled eyes. To appreciate God's power in creation and be humbled. |
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| Her drug |
[Oct. 24th, 2005|04:12 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Cavanaugh Park -Something Corporate | ] |
The rain fell, saturating the ground. She smiled and took a step forward, sneakers coming in contact with the concrete. She fell. Into the rain, into the sweet drops that splashed all around her. She did not brush them away nor wring them out of her hair. She did not dare to blink the happy dew from her eyes. The refreshing tears of the solemn gray sky. The drug.
Her feet moved in rhythm with the sprinkling of the rain on the sidewalk and the cars going by. The slow drips off the trees and the trinkling of the water into the gutter joined in the song of her run. Her muscles pump forward, the tension keeping her moving. The rain seeps into her movements as she turns the corner. She becomes numb to all else, lifting her face to the slate sky, eyes closed. She joins with the rain’s song. The high.
The sky is ripped apart by the harsh rays of the sun. Her coolness is taken away, her reverie snapped by the heat on her back. Her movements slow, shutting down in the loss of the rain. Sharpness is brought back into her mind. The crash.
She thanks the rain, and walks back inside. She is left with the wet remnants of her run. She smiles and waits for the next rain. Her drug. |
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| First Entry |
[Oct. 23rd, 2005|09:06 pm] |
Just an experiment to see how this is working.
I will be using this jounral as a haven for my writings and what not a apart from my regular joural.
Sofie Felia means, Wisdom Love. Two very crucial things, that are often separated. Those who are wise and knowing are often not associated with those who love and are spiritual and emotional. But the two are very important, and when combined form how I feel about seeking for knowledge in our world. The Love of Wisdom and the Wisdom to Love. We must seek out wisdom, but also love. We must love wisdom, and use our wisdom to learn how to truly love. |
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