The Cab

I wish we could open our eyes
To see in all directions at the same time
Oh, what a beautiful view
If you were never aware of what was around you

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks
And there is comfort in the sound
But while you debate half empty or half full
It slowly rises, your love is gonna drown.



And it is true what you say,
THat i live like a hermit in my own head
But when the sun shines again
I'll pull the curtains and blinds to let the light in.

Attachment Disorder

Dear Attachment Disorder,
I hate you.
It became blatantly obvious today, as I felt my body react to the realization that I would not be in Chamber.
Now.
This is silly. This devastation I feel is SO silly, in fact, that I fear it is possibly making people puke.

This is hard for me. And I am mad that you are making this hard for me.

I cannot describe it. Especially to those who have already made it. It is difficult to see friends move on to expected things, and for you to keep me held back and make me feel like I won't be going places in life for a while.

Attachment, Please leave my body this instant. Take a hike. Get outta town. You are unwanted and you are making people pissy.

Love, Ari

P.S. Your breath stinks.

Pointillism.

I guess those few people who come across this blog on a whim by pushing the Next Blog>> are expecting a writer whose intentions are to make you feel good, or happy, or just to have SUPER FUN!.
I'm so sorry to disappoint you, for I am not here for those reasons all the time. I am here to get you to think. I'm sorry if God is too scary for you, or if He bores you, or if He angers you. But this post is about him.
I'm sure most people hate small talk, and yet people choose to speak small.
There are times in life when we all feel small and insignificant. There are times when we feel like our best is not good enough, or we do not live up to the expectations of what others and we have set for ourselves. I am here to tell you that this is just not true. At times like these it is important to remember that we are children of a Heavenly King, and his plan is perfect.
Imagine that Jesus Christ is a painter. Not just any painter, but a pointillist.
I want to tell you about pointillism.
With this form of art, every mark of paint has a purpose. The painter uses different colors of dots to create an image of beauty. The painter has to know exactly what colors to use and when to use them. Here is the catch.
Our human minds cannot see the painting at all unless we take a step back… it is impossible to see the full painting if you are too close to only see the individual dots.
Now, imagine that we are all the dots. We come in different colors, in different shades of colors; sometimes a different paintbrush is used. No matter how small we all are, no matter how plain or dark or how far off in a corner we feel we are. We are all vital to the picture.
Are we not painters also? Yes. We have the power to paint our own lives, but it is very specific. The only way we can paint our lives to the full extent of true happiness is through God. Not only is he the master of our life, but He is the only way we can become master painters ourselves. I depend on Them to create my painting of everlasting life.
I have depended on God a lot in my life. It has been He, who has enabled me to look at my life from His point of view, and see not only the mistakes, and darker colors, but the beauty of how those mistakes and darker colors played up the things that I painted right. The things I did right in my life.
To depend on the Savior may sound like I am weak, or foolish to the "realists" of the world. To me, there is nothing more real than hope, than justice, than love. I am not your usual realist. I am a realist in optimist clothing, for beneath the optimism lies something more real and more true than one can never know by themselves. It is the highest honor to be willing to follow the Heavenly Father and His son, Jesus Christ. In the end, every single dot counts. In the end it is only the Painter, who can see where we all stand, and with whose hands we create a huge picture that could not have been created alone as when we are together.

So. I have this dog.

We dubbed him "Jackson."
Well. Actually, my uncle, Steve, named him. Steve was Jackie's mama.
But one day, a few years back, they had to move to Kansas, and could not bring their beloved dog with them.
I do not mean to be happy that they left him with us, but he's been such a blessing. I don't think my aunt and uncle know how much they changed our family by leaving one of their own with us.
He once saved our lives. Yup. Full on- saved. I will tell you this tale of how this came about...
Once upon a time, there was a man named Alex. He was an old friend of my dad's. RM. Good kid. Then one day he started to hear other voices, besides his own, in his mind. He did, however, start his own clothing company (albeit, picking the next trends out of other people's garbage cans), and one day, this partially unstable person came to our door. In the night. At midnight. When we were SLEEPING.
Guess what my dog did?! BARKED. yes. I know. surprising. But my mother said it was not just a usual bark, it was the bark of a defender. a protector. A GUARDIAN ANGEL.
And, guess what dear ole Alex was trying to do...
BREAK INTO OUR ABODE full of sleeping children. This, my friends, is not socially acceptable neither is it sanitary behavior of a person.
So, boys and girls, the moral of the story is 1) get a dog named Jackson who is a yellow lab and 2) do not become friends with crazy people, as they will try to 'bring down the house' with their delusions of fashionista and new houses.

Best Friends

Friends.
Their existence, perhaps, saves my own.
I have a particular one, who comes over from time to time. Lately, more often than not (a.k.a. almost everyday this past week). I don't understand how I can say words that probably sound jumbled and completely unrecognizable as the English language, and this friend interprets them exactly as I intended.
How is it that two souls can understand one another without verbalization?.
Energy levels.... we are both passionate about the same things. C'est incroyable.
I love her. I love the idea that we will be best friends forever. I do NOT mean that in the Spongeboob(ha) and Patrick ring way. I mean the Tom and Jerry kind. Always kickin each other in the butt, but in the end making us smarter and more prepared for the evil(er) cat or bad news bulldog to come along in life.

A Wonderment

I saw a small child riding one today on his way home from school. He went fast down the hill, yelling "scuuuuse me!" to all whippersnappers obscuring his descent, jammed his foot down onto the rod behind the stop, and full on- bounded into the sky! A FULL TWO AND A HALF FEET.
Wonderment: Where have the Scooters scooted off to?
I mean, I used to always see them, ride them, steal them (don't worry, i gave it back!), want them, and now they're just a pile of dust. Erm. Sheet metal particles.
Also, I'm pretty sure I was known as "scooter girl" back in the past year, for I carried with me, this gadget, all around the school.
ahh... the times.

Hookey Unanounced

Today was a day full of sleeping in, mass dancing in the kitchen, and a couple of angry texts asking, "where are you?!" I did not, of course, skip for no reason. But it feels great to be a in a place different from the rest of the world.
It's a weird feeling knowing that right now, where I sit, there is an entire ecosystem carrying on without me being there. That a life I might have known, had I gone to school today, drags on and nobody is there to push it forward or even hold it back.

Playing hookey never felt so dizzy.