““It doesn’t necessarily mean they do not care about you,” said Gregory. “But it might. Eventually, you have to stop waiting for people. If they care about you, they’ll find you when they can: they will show you. And if they don’t… after a certain amount of time and effort, isn’t it wasted energy? All light burns out. Best put yours where people will appreciate it and be helped by it, and make it last longer.”

Praxis. Faith without deeds is dead.

See, we’re called to stand up for the oppressed. For those less privileged. For the one who wrote that song, it was going to Rwanda and seeing the terrible outcome of war; of hearing a story, “and the bullets in the wall where it fell silent”.

For me, it’s hearing the stories of my close friends. The stats of one in three women, according to WHO. In this country, the helpline gets a domestic abuse call every four mins. Look at how many queer folk have been abused, for being true to themselves. The statistics of that is truly heartbreaking, even without hearing the stories I have.

And then I realized, in a moment of revelation: that it’s the same… conviction. Not a feeling. emotions are fleeting. Commitment. To humanity, to the future, for a better world, because of my faith I care and I will fight. I have seen their pain, in understanding and empathy felt their pain, and I cannot sit still and do nothing about it. I am fire and I will BURN. “Lukewarm will never do; I want to blaze with You”. Did I say because of my faith? There are others who fight harder and better than I, without believing as I do. There are some who lay claim to my faith who fight against me, blinkered and blind. I will not judge them for their blindness. But I, I will keep fighting. Till the day ‘corrective’ rape no longer happens. Till there are no longer more minorities in prison, percentage-wise, than white people. Till women earn the same wage as men. Till men can wear what they like, and show sensitivity, and not be shamed for it. Till our class system is a shameful thing of the past. Most of all, till rape culture is a shameful thing of the past.
…yes, I recognize that in all likelihood, that’s not gonna happen in my lifetime. I live in hope, with no naive expectation. But I’ll keep fighting for my people, Your people, Your children, for we are all Your children, till the day I die. I have heard the cry, and I will help; I have heard the call, and I will follow. This, then, is a promise I can keep.

“I, the Lord of wind and flame
I will tend the poor and lame
I will set a feast for them
My hand will save

Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?
I have heard You calling in the night
I will go, Lord, if you lead me
I will hold Your people in my heart.”

I know a few who would agree with that. (funnily enough, the most gentle pacifist that I know is an internet meme for HEMA/swordfighting.)
However, I also know a few who would disagree and say “be the woman hitting a nazi with a handbag that you want to see in your life” XD

Regardless… I’m glad my father follows that rule, and that my grandad tried to.

I still don’t feel sad. Just… tired. So tired. And still a bit upset that I don’t feel more sad. “I feel like a monster, whoa, throw on your brake lights”

funerals are all about being polite to people you don’t know.

there’s nothing fun about a funeral.

it was nice to see “aunty” again.

It was nice having an unexpected acknowledgement of “you must be a bit peopled out now?”

Following the small child around is so much less emotionally draining than talking to the adults.

Ha! I’m COOLER THAN MY SISTER.
…to a two-year-old. because he doesn’t know her. Technicalities count.

Those used to be my favourite flower… that was before I learnt there are worse things than being forgotten. Being despised. Being feared. Being… not thought well of. Now it is not “don’t forget about me”. Drifting away hurts like hell and that still breaks me, and that is a thing I still fear, but not as much as… knowing that when someone thinks of you, it’s with a disdainful longsuffering sigh, or a roll of the eyes…. and not a smile. I fear that more, and perhaps this is a good thing; perhaps it will help me become a better person.
((you help me become a better person. Thankyou for the emotional labour you’ve spent on me.))

I understand why she dislikes lies so much that her entire moral system is built around not lying. That, I can respect. And knowing that, knowing how deep lies cut…
I understand, but cannot respect, the decision to change your memories, lie about everything, in order to feel better about your own bad choices. You two were happy together once. Remember that, you idiot male, and don’t tell people otherwise.

Yes, but Lails, you always did despise cowardice.

Ah, I had words. they were there, and now they are gone. Perhaps later I will re-collect them, pin them down, like butterflies set in stone forever.
Don’t be so dam melodramatic.
Can’t help it, think I get it from my mother.
Well, that’s a change of topic.

“All your sorrow, maybe tomorrow, will fade away in the end”
“All these problems in my head, won’t just go away when I go to bed”
“All these little things will melt before the next sunrise.”

Sometimes Fear takes over
And I do not ask
“May I”
“Can you”
“Would you like”
But rather, fade
to the background of your life
Creep into the shadows
Because perhaps
I will be too annoying
Too intense
Too much me
lodramatic
–“but you’re more than melody to me, I think”.
Whatever happens now
I will think well of you.
Will you…
“Can you”
Think well of me?

All I have left is gratitude
You were here
And that you asked
(in words even,
not with hands!)
“Would you like…”
and that for a time
you liked me.

….”strike up the band and play a song, and try hard not to cry
and fake a smile, as you all say goodbye”

like dancing.
Music.
Heartbeat.
Beauty.
Flight.

Like being given wings, freedom, don’t ask me to stay, push me off the cliff and make me fly, the wild joy of pushing yourself and knowing, being certain, completely confident, that you got it right. Magic.
Like flying. Soaring on a high so light and bright you want to remember this, and you don’t even know what This is but you know it’s something worth it, something worth living for. this is Life. living it to the full. Something Beautiful.
“Let the rain fall down and wake my dreams…”
Like rolling thunder and sunlight on rain. Beautiful.
Take a risk, take the chance, Fly.
Simple laughter.
A slight trepidation that gives way to such joy of possibilities… Hope.
Opening the eyes, looking around for the first time and seeing the potential for such beauty and It Is Good, what we have been given. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt childlike joy, the adventure of something new, something amazing.

Your Turn

Give me time
I don’t need much
30 seconds would do
you could
tell me something
anything
even if it’s a lie
or just a joke
you could
just sit with me
in silence
not say anything
do anything
but don’t –
Please.
don’t wait
for me to ask.

Driftwood

I held on so long
(you never did)
I’ve let go now.
Floating
within arms’ reach
Waiting
for you to reach out
And hold on.

“Who can I trust now?”

“You could trust yourself,” Harry said.

She looked at him for a long moment. “Maybe I will,” she answered. 

John 2
²³ Now while he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Festival, many people saw the signs he was performing and believed in his name. ²⁴ But Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all people. ²⁵ He did not need any testimony about mankind, for he knew what was in each person.

I looked into your eyes
They told me plenty I already knew
I never let myself believe that you might stray
And I would stand by you no matter what they say
I thought, I’ll be with you until my dying day

“been down without you, cold without your love
in time will i be what you’re thinking of?
So rescue me from hanging on this line
I won’t give up on giving you the chance to blow my mind…”

“if life gives you lemons, keep them, because hey, free lemons.”
lemons are expensive. unless they’re home grown. then they’re free.
“growing up only means picking one of the many ways of breaking yourself in two.”
or picking all the many ways to break yourself like shattered glass, more like.
http://untamedunwanted.deviantart.com/art/You-call-it-Judgement-We-call-it-Sin-345803719

i went a bit crazy last night. ran screaming and hissing and spitting through the streets of what is left of central christchurch, i scared people, i scared myself, and myself still wouldnt leave me alone. there is no person and no place in this world that is safety, is home for me, not anymore. i do not belong anywhere. “I am the cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.”

i felt better for letting the insanity out, i could dance, but i still feel sick if i let myself think. physical reaction to an emotion. its the first time i’ve really, *really* wanted physical pain to combat it. there’s clawmarks in my arm. they’ll be there awhile, i think. 

today i will try to put on the illusion of sanity. in the stupid, vain hope that things will get better… but everyone knows it gets worse before it gets better. “it is Fear, O little hunter, it is Fear.”

http://www.diycouturier.com/post/47249603128/21-tips-to-keep-your-shit-together-when-youre

and she’s pretty easily disturbed/traumatized.

i guess it’s a good thing there’s some innocent in me?

what if i stumble? what if i fall?
What if i fall? what if i don’t?

don’t speak…

speak to me, in the light of the dawn

there’s too much and never enough

i loved you once, didn’t I?

is our love worth fighting for?

your choice. i wonder what it was.

as i grow older i grow sadder. bitter? cynical?

i neeed more me – time.