Tunnels

Just a heads up, this blogpost is entirely religious. I don't usually post about this subject so consider this a risk. 

I'm still afraid of the dark.
And maybe it's because I'm afraid of the unknown.
You know, I've reached another tunnel. As thick and as dense of a human's eye all I see is darkness. With every step the fear grows. I can see my future fading farther and farther, I'm starving for something new, reaching. Reaching. 
At last I grasp it. I clench it with hands made from dreams and birthday cake wishes. Help is no longer a word. It's a necessity. My vision blurs. Salt fills my eyes until I see a glimpse. I see a hand. I see a light. The bitter salt loses its sting. 

And I remember.

I know the man who created the moon. 
If you don't know Him, let me show you who He is and what He means to me.

He is patient.
He is kind.
He is loving.
He is my everything.
He is my world.
He is my light.
He knows me. And I know Him.

For a second I pause. Warmth fills my heart to my very soul. A love indescribable overpowers the fear.

I see Him.
I see all His glory.
I praise Him.
He reaches for my hand, we share and embrace.

Instantly, comfort overwhelms me.

He takes away the fear. He adjusts my lens. He sharpens my vision.  
He is Jesus Christ.

Now the tunnel brightens. 
I'm not afraid of the dark anymore.
I crave the unknown. 
I can taste it on the tip of my tongue.
I want it.

The salt returns like sugar, sweet sugar. The only kind of tears that are brought by gratitude, love, and hope.

There will be more tunnels. 
Just like this one.
As my journey continues, I hope to never forget this man, for He created the moon and He is my God. 

Over the Atlantic

Europe fascinates me. 

The cobble stone streets are laced with history.
Multi-colored buildings are the homes and shelter of the people with different word of tongue. Whom everyday place a death wish to their broken lips out of habit. Cigarette smoke fills the air. A smell that will always remind me of this continent and my time here.

When it rains, there's peace. With this peace brings beautiful rivers that ripple against a bridge's walls. Copper covered buildings, sculptures one could only dream of viewing. Detail which makes your brain wince at the sight. The thought of creating it is unbearable. 

These are stunning places I never wish to leave, but at some point, it is time to come back to the free soil.

"You're a rich girl and you're goin' too far cuz you know it don't matter anyway…" -Hall&Oats 

The Difference between my Bones, my Brain, and my Heart

My heart and brain are empty with regret while my bones continue to be full and work wholeheartedly.

My brain isn't as developed as the kids at Harvard. But my bones are stronger than theirs. They have to be...after all I've been through. 

My heart screams:
"I'm tired of feeling. I'm tired of pumping your blood around your body."
While my bones tell me:
"I'll carry you through. Rest on me. I'll carry you through." 

I rely on my bones.

I rely too much on my bones. And one day they'll crack from exhaustion, and become as hollow as the rest of me. When that day comes, I'll know it is time to lay and rest. For the sake of my bones, I'll have to rest. 

I walk through this life, and maybe one day, I'll see this world for all of it's beauty instead of it's insecurities. And maybe one day I'll listen to what my bones plea.

Until then, I continue through this life listening to my head and my heart, my brain and my blood supplier. The two places where I have found happiness, the things I turned to. 

But, those things have betrayed me. 

And I can feel my trust failing, fading. 

World

I want to see the world. 

Not just to visit, but to live. 

I want to experience being immune to the heat in Brazil. Clapping outside of houses and having dessert pizza and maybe even get really fat. 

I want to brace the cold and beauty in Alaska. I want to shut my blinds and curtains in order to sleep. I don't just want to see the Northern Lights from my computer screen, I want to breathe them in and truly see them. 

I want to taste real basil, authentic mozzarella cheese, and fresh tomatoes on crust an Italian rolled out and created. I want to sit in a boat and row through buildings and under bridges. 

I want to speak French, wear an ascot, a red and white striped shirt, and sit by a cafe with a sketchbook, my thoughts, and a dark hot chocolate in a thin glass teacup. 

I want to go surfing at Bondi beach, just to feel the thrill of the cold water and hot sun on the back of my neck. I want to eat fish and actually like it. 

I want to see the world. I want to experience it. Taste it. Live it.   

Death

I don't like the word death.

It's just a reminder that it is truly real. 

I'll be honest and say I don't want to die. I know my opinion will change once my muscles are weak and my bones no longer hold together, I don't want this life to end, but every day, hour, minute, and second death gets closer. 

Just yesterday I was two years old, riding my mini Barbie tricycle around my backyard, the place where I got all my scars, the visible ones anyhow. Unaware of what "death" was. Seems like just this morning I was picking leaves and flowers to feed the Queen in my outdoor kingdom. (from what I remember, she wasn't impressed)

Now here I am, in my senior year, in High School where I have received more scars, the ones you can't see. I often wonder how time flew by so fast, how my childhood lasted for only a second, a blink of an eye. As I grow older, I realize that life doesn't last forever. Death does and will come, to those I know and love and even to me. I'm not immortal. I'm the exact opposite. Even though it is scary to think about, it's a perfect reminder for me to live my life. Enjoy these times with my friends and family. Learning about death was one of the best things I have ever learned. 

Post #2 This Week

"It will all be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end."

Fears

Let's get real. 

I'm afraid of growing up.
I'm afraid of spicy food. 
I'm afraid of heights, but my greatest desire is to go sky diving when I turn 18.
I'm afraid of "the cool kids." They intimidate me for some reason.
I'm afraid of singing and dancing in front of people, even my family.
I'm afraid of acceptance.
I'm afraid of college.
I'm especially afraid of college girls who are freaking competitive, mainly because I'm not that way.
I'm afraid I'll never get married. (refer to the above)
I'm afraid of tripping at graduation. (heels or no heels? I mean they make my legs look good. it's official, yes to the heels.)
I'm afraid of trying new things.. I really want to dye my hair dark brown, but then I get my hair done and it looks bomb. Decisions, decisions. Maybe I'll do it one day...or maybe I won't. 
I'm afraid of having a baby. 
I'm afraid of not being a good mom.

I'm afraid of you. 
I'm afraid of what you'll think when you find out who I am behind the pen name. Yes, I know that is ridiculous. 

The Other Post

Want to know what the most twisted undeniably worst part about caring about someone is? You still care.

You and I, we play this little game. It's a simple game, not too hard to understand.

The hardest part, most lethal part about this "game" is the waiting. The constant waiting.

This usually can last three to four weeks, that's when that white flag rises.

But this round however, has made it easier to end this game once and for all. You know exactly why.

So I guess I could thank you for that. Because I'm done caring about you. 

Let's Talk About Bricks.

Everything in my life has been planned brick by brick. 

Not by other people but by myself, on my own. 

And now in these next few months another brick will be laid down on top of this mental 

house called my future, and I'm terrified.