Pancakes for Breakfast

A little blurb before the actual post, this was written by John Carver, he's a local motivational speaker and is probably one of the strongest people I know because of his youngest daughter Juliana's continuing battle with cancer (which is very awe-inspiring, this girl is so tough and she's just such a warrior). But just today he posted this little story and it just kind of hit me close to my heart, because I always try to "make pancakes" and then never understand why things turn out so wrong. I'd really like for you to read this, and see if you've been stuck in a rut of trying to do good things by yourself.

Pancakes for Breakfast


Six year old Brandon decided one Saturday morning to fix his parents pancakes. He found a big bowl and spoon, pulled a chair to the counter, opened the cupboard and pulled out the heavy flour canister, spilling it on the floor. He scooped some of the flour into the bowl with his hands, mixed in most of a cup of milk and added some sugar, leaving a floury trail on the floor which by now had a few tracks left by his kitten.

Brandon was covered with flour and getting frustrated. He wanted this to be something very good for Mom and Dad, but it was getting very bad. He didn't know what to do next, whether to put it all into the oven or on the stove (and he didn't know how the stove worked)! Suddenly he saw his kitten licking from the bowl of mix and reached to push her away, knocking the egg carton to the floor. Frantically he tried to clean up this monumental mess but slipped on the eggs, getting his pajamas white and sticky. And just then he saw Dad standing at the door. 

Big crocodile tears welled up in Brandon's eyes. All he'd wanted to do was something good, but he'd made a terrible mess. He was sure a scolding was coming, maybe even a spanking. But his father just watched him. Then, walking through the mess, he picked up His crying son, hugged him and loved him, getting his own pajamas white and sticky in the process. 

That's how God deals with us. We try to do something good in life, but it turns into a mess. Our marriage gets all sticky or we insult a friend or we can't stand our job or our health goes sour. Sometimes we just stand there in tears because we can't think of anything else to do.

That's when God picks us up and loves us and forgives us, even though some of our mess gets all over Him. But just because we might mess up, we can't stop trying to "make pancakes," for God or for others. Sooner or later we'll get it right, and then they'll be glad we tried.... 

Please pass some of this love on to others. . . . . . . . . . . . Suppose one morning you never wake up, do all your friends know you love them?

P.S This is John Carver's website: click here and this is the website for Juliana.

I also just want to put this little thing out there, if you're able to donate blood, please do, I mean I'm terrified of needles but I'm going to do it once I meet the weight requirement. It's the most incredible thing to be able to save a life with something as simple as donated 

Beauty from the Beast

Beauty incarnate, full of roses and splendor, of gems and richness, so sweet and kind.
There is laugher and smiles, joy and warmth in heart, there, in Beauty, there is nothing you cannot find.

The Beast, so full of rages and jealousy, of swamps and murk, so angry and miserable.
From there is nothing and fury, destruction and fear of yourself, there, in the Beast, you are tied as if with a cable.

But Beauty trapped inside the Beast, Beauty caught by the Beast. Is Beauty none the less.

Beauty changes the Beast.

Beauty tames the Beast.

But the Beast changed the Beauty.

The Beauty saw the Beast, but the Beauty thought she would never love the Beast, until the Beast showed her true beauty.

Beauty incarnate, full of roses and happiness, yet full of stubbornness and pride. Lonely until adventure came, she found herself remade.

The Beast, full of shame and regrets, of joy and of pain. Loveless until finding a prisoner, he became human again.

Reminiscing About Blogging

Today was pretty fun, because I met up with my friend/acquaintance Elizabeth who interviewed me about my involvement with making ARG's (Alternate Reality Games: info here) with the Finksburg Library. The group was Hannah, Taylor, Abi, Laura, Heather, Melanie and myself for most of the ARG's.

While we were talking and she was asking me how we did certain things and what it was like to do something that big when I was only 14, I realized that while I was helping make that game I was defining myself in the future. Because without that incredible experience I don't think I would want to become a librarian.

Honest, I would not be trying to become a librarian if it wasn't for Melanie and Heather (the two librarians that kind of guided all of us through the ARG) I would not be wanting to go into this field of work.

So if you ever have me as your scatterbrained librarian (like the chick from The Mummy (who my boyfriend wishes everyone to know is named Evelyn)) blame them.

But besides that I also discovered that this entire escapade was worth it, at least to me because I discovered that there is still so much imagination that we have yet to delve into in this world. I mean, some of the answers we got on The Mystery Guest (see here) are just such a great example of that. Some of the links that we have up are expired but we had a few like ironing the character back into the book, or pushing him back in, or duct taping him back in, we even had one really great kid say "hey, why don't you use some transporting spray and make him go back?" 

It just made me feel so, happy and almost proud that something I had helped make had sparked such creativity. I mean, a library is a place that has so much freedom to create a new world for yourself, you can't just let that sit idly by! If you're reading this I beg you to please just go to a library and absorb all the classical literature that surrounds you. 

(not tweenager love stories. If you want a love novel then read Pride and Prejudice or Jane Eyre, read one of the classics, not the vampire book, if you want a good vampire book then read Dracula or The Night Runner or! The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod, those are good vampire books)

(and by tweenager I mean the ones that make you want to destroy something as beautiful as a book and use it for kindling)

Books are doorways, they're buses, planes, trains, cars, heck, they can even be a bike, my point is, books are these incredible things that can make us forget the chaos of life for a bit. Books help us get back to ourselves. They reorganize the chaos.

And with that, I bid you all good reading.

My First Children's Story

First off I just want to say that I have this saved and dated on my computer, my phone and printed waiting for me to illustrate it. So unless you email/message me asking for my permission to use any part of my story (and if you get my permission) don't steal my story.  I know it seems stupid to put that for such a dorky little story but hey, it's my dorky little story :P

Once there was a family of owls that lived at the very top of the very tallest tree that was on top of the very highest mountain. Now the momma owl and the daddy owl (Euphemia and Cadmus) had 5 children, 3 boys and 2 girls, now the reason why they only had five children is because they did not want six.

Now Terrance was the oldest, and he remembered the first tree that they had lived in down at the base of the mountain. He decided that since he was old enough to start thinking about finding a wife and start having owlets of his own that he would ask his parents for their permission to leave so he could find their first tree home. Cadmus and Euphemia were sad to see their son go, but knew that it was time for him to leave on his own. But, his mother was wise enough to know that it was also time to introduce her younger children to the woods below. (They had only moved so that the neighbors wouldn't complain about the noise that 5 very active owlets could make).

So after giving Terrance directions to their first home and the admonition "Remember to cough up your pellets before flying at night!" Terrance flew off in the direction of his new home.

Now Alex, Harrison, Ellie and Ellis (they were twins) had never seen another owl except for crazy aunt Patty (she thought she was a bat) and even then it was only on holidays. Not only that but being so young they were still anxious about how to behave. They stayed up all day practicing how to properly groom themselves and hunt, how to be sure that you had digested everything before coughing up your pellet, everything until the late hours of the afternoon. Then it was finally moving day! Terrance had already found a good mate (she was a snowy owl, a VERY fine woman, well, owl) and had already found himself a good starter tree, making sure that his parent's first tree was nice and cozy for his family to move into that night.

It was only a 30 minute flight but by the time that Ellie and Ellis had finished the flight they were exhausted! Harrison was doing a bit better but was still a bit altitude sick, and all of them were nervous. After unpacking the small things and reenergizing, they invited their neighbors to visit. All of them bringing the most delicious food, like mouse pot pie, sparrow lasagna, one dear old barn old brought his mate's best blueberry jam as a housewarming present!

Ellie and Ellis were very shy, hiding behind their mother's big grey wings, but when they saw their big brothers trying to be brave they felt better, and then the twins felt less scared. So they slowly started to edge away from the protective shadow cast by their mother's wings, and over to their older brothers and the other owlets, and to their surprise they made new friends easier than they expected!

So this little story is just to show that no matter how far away you travel, home is just a house, but it's the people inside that make it home. :)






Hope you all enjoy this little story! It isn't much but hey, not bad for my first try.

Really Short Song I Wrote on 9/11/12

I remember September tears, All the fighting through all these years.
I remember fireflies that night...
I remember when those towers fell
the people trying to get through hell
And I just wondered, are you coming home?

You walked into fire and walls,
Seeing if people could be brought home,
All the while I carried you in my heart.

Are you coming home?

Or is it too late?

Did those towers fall and take you away from me?

Oh I remember when, the worst thing was the hope.

Hope that you were still alive and I wouldn't get that call...

On that September night, when it was still too warm,
I heard a knock at the door and I ran cause I thought that you were home...

When I walked into the night, I could feel my heart freeze.
It was your Captain holding your helmet out to me.
I remember when those, Towers fell...



So Typically I don't write songs like this but I guess this is one of my exceptions. People tend to forget that there are hundreds of people that could be effected by a single death. I don't know what to tell anyone reading this, losing someone you love is devastating, but there are always going to be people that love you that are more than willing to help.

Why are you sad?

Why are you sad love?

Don't you know that once you sleep you can dream,

And that all those dreams could be dreams of things that are yet unseen?

Why so sad?

You can see the world once you close your eyes,

You can let your heart wander to the place where it lies.

Once you dream you can go there, to the place full of sighs, wistful wonderings and shining eyes.

Why are you so sad love?

To dream and see the things you most want is to leave this world and find another.

Go find your world where there are no goodbyes, only sweet dreams and lullabies.

Why do you fight love?

Don't you know that a dream is another word for adventures?

And dreamers are travelers wandering down their chosen paths.

Why don't you sleep love?

Close those tired eyes, shut out the dreary days that have past, and the ones that are coming ahead.

Rest your sleepy head, let the monsters of today slink away from your bed

Don't you see love?

The dreams that you dream are more than you see

The dreams that are dreamed are what you know you could be

I Still Remembered My Website!

Hey! look at that! my website hasn't been deleted. Woot!
I have a lot more stuff to write, including a lot of short stories (none of them completed) tons of spoken word/slam poetry type things, poems, songs, even interesting life stories to tell so I guess I have a ton to get started on D: oh well, not like I had a social life to begin with ^-^

haven't been on X)

so yeah, it's been a looong time since I've posted, and the reasons why are simple, nobody looks at this page except me, so it's beyond pointless to post.
yet here I am again, uselessly posting words that no one but my mother reads. (yes, it's sad but I really don't care) I tell my friends to look at this, and I tell them to comment, beg them to comment, and I get nada. **eyeroll** I even write the address on their arm or hand or something and nothing happens. oh well.

The Fighting, The Screaming

The fighting the screaming, it keeps me from my bed.

No laughter, no hope yet, there’s only fear and dread.

These people they say they know but really they’re just dumb

They say that this ain’t the hard part and that the worst is yet to come.

But their screaming and fighting, it hurts me more than a lie

I know that the outcome is someone screaming at me tonight.

They get mad, they lose their cool and then shoot at me,

Then get worse when I lose it too and decide to fire back.

You aren’t your parents, they aren’t you, now you have to choose.

Are you like them, or will you choose to be some other muse.

Can you change, or will you fall into their down-soft lies

The fighting the screaming, it gets into your head.

It penetrates, it kills your soul, so you’re as good as dead.

The people say it gets easier but they don’t know your past.

Full of memories that help you sleep when your mind is full of screams.

You can’t trust in mom and pop cause they treat you with pure hatred

You wish for relief in some other form but screams are all you have.

The Drain

Okay, before I begin I just want to give some background, my lovely english teacher gave us an in-class assignment where we had to write in the format called "stream of consciousness" some people wrote lyrics to a random song, others doodled, my friend wrote about why she was late to class and I wrote this.

All our lives swirl down the drain
Slowly drifting down.
Taking precious, close-knit ties and breaking them all down.
Living lives we never had,
Parading our misfit lies.
Living in our Masquerade
As we fall into our drain.
We make our choices,
Set our course, then never take a stand.
We made our beds, we took the pill and now we have to deal.
People falling down the drain, they never know it's there.
People dying, that's the cure,
Or so the experts say.
All our lives swirl down the drain,
Yet noone seems to mind.
We're wasting all our precious time
Rushing 'round through stores.
When really we should take our time,
And live life well as before the Fall.

Empty

mug of coffee in your hand,
drown out the fear screaming in your head.
drive the car, do the work, get back home before you get hurt.
write the words, make someone see, then back in the box before you are seen.
hide your face, hear the voices, oh there are so many choices.
heal the wounds that your own pen made.
empty feeling in your chest.

heartbreak started
heartbreak ends

where do you go when the beginning has it's end?

Manners Matter

I was walking in my local target yesterday, well really, I was following my mom cause I had no cash therefore twas fruitless for me to shop. We were over by the pharmacy and it's always really crowded over there because of how they arranged the aisles. I had the cart while my mom was waiting for a prescription, and I was standing in one of the very small aisles and because of how carts are made I accidentally prevented anyone from getting in said aisle.
Now, the real reason I'm writing this is because a woman who was around the same age as my mom came around the corner from the aisle and said to her son (who I guess to be around 11-ish) "We need to get down that aisle" and since I heard her I moved my cart and she walked through with a nod while her son looked at me, half-smiled and said, "Thank you fellow human," I thought it was a sweet and different way to say "thanks" so I smiled and said "you're welcome" and as he and his mother walked further away from me I heard the mother scold her son and tell him to behave. Now if you're like me you're probably going "what??" because the son had clearly been polite in saying thank you, no matter how odd the whole sentence had been. I guess she was a little embarrassed by how her son had called me a fellow human or she just had had a long day at work and didn't feel like putting words to the nod. Whatever her reasoning was, that young boy made me smile in his unique way of saying thanks and I hope wherever he goes he remembers that it's not always what you say but how you say it that matters.

One of my Songs: Bitter

Bitter, feels so good and yet tastes so, Bitter.
Swallowing down your unhappiness
Living today with all of your regrets
Oh, so bitter.


Oh so Sour, It's your last hour
Lived too long Living in your misery
You're Bitter, way too sour
Never Smiling
Oh So Sour!


Living afraid all the day!
Trying to take back all the mistakes that you've made.
Laughing, I know you're faking it!
I see the hate that fills you in your eyes.


Faking, oh you make me believe
Sunshine on my face is no fantasy.
Today I might survive all the pain.
But you're faking


Oh so Sour, maybe my last Hour.
I've lived too long living in your misery.
Cause you're bitter, way too sour
Always hated me
Oh so Sour!


Living afraid everyday!
Trying to run from the pain of yesterday
Shaking, hating what I have to do!
Knowing I can'tlive while I'm near you...


Bitter, like a lemon on my tongue, so bitter
Draining away the joy life has to share
Waling slower, weighed down in your emptyness...
Oh
So
Bitter.....










this is about abuse, whether it be in a dating relationship, family relationship or something else. I wrote this from reading biographies, blogs and hearing stories about abuse, not from my own life, I'm very blessed to have a great family and great relationships.

SORRY!

It's been crazy chaotic here on planet Me! I have some new stuff that I'm gonna post soon but if you can keep on forwarding this link I'd really appreciate it :) :)
TTFN!
with love, your chaotic artist :) <3

FEAR

Of losing all that you have had so far

Of gaining back all the hatred you felt

Of the unknown

Of never being loved

FEAR

Of losing what you love

Of not knowing who you'll become

Of forgetting why you live like this

Of living the way you want to live

FEAR

Of past regrets

Of making mistakes

Of being the odd man out

Of not being good enough.

Saviour > FEAR

Does Anyone Else Think This Way?

I think in colors, emotions and ideas. Bitter for me is separated into 3 different sections, Good Bitter like Coffee, Bad Bitter like Lemons, and Sour like Sour Patch Kids candy.
Good Bitter is like a velvety black-brown with orange and turquoise spikes through it.
Bad Bitter is a neon green circle with yellow and brown darts coming and pricking your tongue.
Sour is very sketchy a fast circles in black and bright blue and orange and pink then it smooths into waves that tickle your tastebuds.
For most people when I try to describe this they don't always get it and I end up sounding like some babbling lunatic. But this makes more sense to me than a lot of explinations.

Happy Days

Come and gone so fast,
Never really seem to last.
These Happy days I dreamed in nights past
Come and gone like a river full blast.

Gone were those happy days.

Come again, sing soft my heart
Sing your melody strong.
Come and bind your wounds with words
And heal your hurting self.

Come again shall the happy days.

Come in and out with no why or wherefore
Always so different than any to come before
For every day a song that opens a new door
Come in and bring with you one happy day or more.

Sing in The Rain

Even though it's pouring down
Even though it feels like the world is crashing down


Just stop and sing in the rain, let the raindrops wash your fears away
Just stop and stare at the rain, let your tears be brushed away


Don't let the hate of being alone make you keep your eyes down on the ground
Don't let your heart fail you just because you feel like the world has left you alone


Just stop and breathe in the rain, let the thunder roll away the pain
Just stop and scream in the rain, let the lightning burn the hate away


Forget the past and all that you've done
Forget the lies and live your life for one


Just stop and live for the rain, let your heart heal the bruises
Just wait for the storm to stop, let the tidal wave wash over the rest of the world.