This world is not my home.

What do you do when a friend has died? Or for one who has just left you, walked out of your life: not in a malicious manor but of one whose journey brings them away from you. How do you function when a friend must leave? When you feel like you’re heart can’t mend. What happens when journeyers must part and you are the one who must continue on alone? Oh Jane, how did you mannage the solitude? What happens when your heart is just looking for someone to care for it? I am sorry I have none of the answers I seek. I am alone at the moment, my heart and soul have been left behind and I don’t know what to do. I hurt so badly and I bleed inwardly. Oh God please help me, I’m adrift and I feel so alone. My only comfort has been that the years I spend on this earth are not even a fraction of the time I will spend in eternity. This time passes quickly, soon I will be dead and gone and I will say, “that was my life? Where did the time go?” I cling to Christ, he is my refuge in the lonely places. He is my strong master. I will praise his name in the desert, in the quiet and lonely places I will praise his name. This world is not my home.

the view from the curb.

I am alone in my house.

Sigh.

I guess I could have taken one of the two offers of sex I recieved tonight. One of those two guys could have occupied my home with me tonight. I mean who doesn’t want to sleep with the overly eager or the guy who’s number is probably higher than the friends I have on facebook. Yum.

o.O

Drunk friends are loud, which is great when they are loud at inopportune and embarrassing times. They also swear like sailors and get way too friendly with each other in front of you. Thanks guys.

Sigh.

The best part is that I’m still hoping for a text back. I was still waiting around for you to come back, I wanted to talk to you, get to know you. I want things to go back to the effortless and easy time we had before I left. I’m sorry that I’m awkward, I’m sorry that I’m forward. I’m sorry you can’t read me. Please don’t think the worst of me.

My life could be a comedy routine. I’d get a laugh or two.

I am feeling poetical

It’s day 2.5 of my ailment. I hate being sick, really that goes without saying because who says “YES I’m sick again!”?

Being sick dulls my senses though… I become so focused on surviving, on not feeling sick I forget the little things that I love.

I love the feeling of a cool breeze on my foot, watching the rain, the feeling that my blankets leave on my skin.

Also my brother is traveling to Italy this summer. I am jealous to my very core.

If you should love me, bring me no presents save knowledge, the written word and foreign lands.

I take my leave now, my mind has been muddled from staying in bed all day.

What a wretched confine you are.

new evidence and existing change.

I wish I could say I have my actions together. The truth is, I’m really not a good person. I’m self-centered, critical on myself and others, I have a hard time taking criticism when I’m in the wrong.

I am a screw up.

I crave acceptance, I crave attention, I crave validation. I want what is bad for me.

Sigh.

I can fully identify with Paul when he says (paraphrase) “I do what I should not do, oh wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from this body of evil?”

It. Is. Finished.

Sighhhhhhhh.

I am now sitting on the other end of another school year.

Apart from the lack of summerish weather… summer is here.

No more papers, no more tests, no more classes.

Now to cleaning up and moving out of my dorm room.

Crazy.

This year has gone by so fast. It seems like just a month or two ago I was un-packing. Where did the time go? Where did my life go? It’s like a rush of blood to the head.

I’m rambling now. My disconjointed thoughts and sentences are just a reflection of my brain at the moment.

Good day.

::Insert wit here::

So I’m sorry for anyone who has had to deal with my moods in the past year.

It’s partially because I’m a woman, partially because I feel things quite strongly and partially because I just don’t know how exactly to express my emotions in the first place.

It’s been a mess, I understand.

While I was in prayer today God reminded me of this verse…

“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” 1st John 4:18.

I have a lot of fear in my life. Fear of being misunderstood. Fear of being alone. Fear of being forgotten or replaced. The fear of trusting too much. Mainly my negative emotions are a result of those fears.

These fears have caused a whiplash of sorts. I feel the need to constantly be perfect, constantly measure up to others, constantly perform to an unattainable standard (which, you all know I’ve never even come close to achieving). It’s impossible to do these things, I’ve never been close to accomplishing those things and the pressure of trying to win over my friends and meet those standards have only served to add fuel to my emotional fire.

So as I sit here, sipping my Jasmine tea and think about the future and this summer I am more and more inspired to learn to deal with myself. I’ve always hated being wrong, hating have others find fault in myself, hated seeing my faults. Lately though, I have been more and more willing to admit that I truly am a broken person. Thankfully this realization has only served to progress me towards change and self awareness instead of towards my typical emotional seclusion.

Sigh. Growth.

“being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

mumblings

I’ve been thinking a lot about death lately. Not like my creepy obsession with death in high school, but about how short life is.

I want my life two be about two things; I want put others before myself and I want to be heaven minded.

I think I’ve lived a good life, but do I think I’ve lived one worthy of the calling I’ve received. I’m very self focused. I don’t want that.

I want to be more interested in people than in my own self interest.

hmm.