I know you prolly know this... but I have to re-iterate--
God really uses crazy people to do His work.
I mean, people with mad issues.
"You see the depths of my heart, and you love me the same..."
Crazy. Crazy how He forgives us every time we fall and continues to use us for His glory.
The other morning, I got a little disheartened thinking about some poor decisions I'd made recently and I ran across Samson's story in Judges. Dude, Samson was a crazy freak! His story is larger than life and filled with more relationship issues than US Weekly Magazine. Samson tore open a whole lion, while it was still living, with his hands. Just his hands. And then he killed one thousand people with a donkey's jawbone.
ONE THOUSAND, y'all.
That's everyone I graduated with, plus 100 or so more people.
Granted, he was appointed by God to annihilate those people, but that's still a lot of baggage to deal with. Not to mention the fact that he had a terrible weakness for women to match his terrible judgement of female character. (You wanna talk about the B word some more? Read about Samson's women!)
The thing is, Samson's sins were apparent, but not necessarily the highlights of his story. While there was a severe price to pay for his sins, God used every bit of his wretched life to ultimately bring glory to himself. The same way he uses thousands of wretched people every day to do His work. And he doesn't just use us-- he loves us. Loves me.
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
-Romans 8:37-39
"You are amazing, God..."
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
The B Word
If you'd asked me three years ago if I ever thought I'd be a cusser, the answer would've been a resounding "No." Swearing made me uncomfortable. I found it to be uncreative, a superfluous use of nasty language. (Which it totally still can be.) I will even openly admit that I quietly looked down upon cussers.
But the thing is, I finally realized you have to go through a situation that requires swearing to really develop an appreciation for it. Having been through a few such sitches, my thinking has changed/matured. I am a cusser. Not a superfluous one by any means, but a cusser nonetheless. Cuss words have a place, just like every other word. Yes, they're kinda gritty, but sometimes there's really just no better way to say what you gotta say.
Now there are still a couple of severe words that you will not hear coming out of my mouth-- because my Savior is much too good and loving and powerful and forgiving for me to put obscenities before or after His name.
But there's a part of me that is minutely infatuated with the proper use of cuss words. In their proper place, they can be very effective. And I know a lot of people think it's a respect thing not to swear in the presence of ladies, but honestly, when we're good enough friends that you can get mad, or get honest or even just slip and say something in front of me? I'm into it. It's a new level of friendship. :) So long as you don't abuse it and develop a limited, R-rated vocabulary.
So… I have cuss words in my life. And I'm okay with this. But—there are some that still rub me the wrong way.
The one I'm talking about today, you can guess from the title of this post. Beside the two most common compound cuss words which are used superfluously in most current pop/rock and hiphop songs (rolls eyes), I do not like the word bitch.
Now granted, there's a place for it. And as a verb, it doesn't bother me as much. But as a noun or an adjective, especially casually?! Oh no. I hate it. I hate it when women call each other that affectionately and I sure as hell better not hear any man calling me that. I don't care if he's joking or not. Those are fightin' words (really they are coming from a female as well) and I sure will put your ass out. Or at least re-evaluate how much time I spend with you if you have the nerve to ever apply those words to my face.
Maybe it's because I feel like on a fleshly level, I have as much license to be a bitch as any other woman, and I choose/God has given me the grace not to be. I believe that word should be reserved for the description of a female with absolutely no social grace, no mercy, no patience, no regard for anyone but herself and an inflated sense of entitlement. Everything I believe urges me to be the polar opposite of that. And if you choose to call me that anyway? It's like a slap in the face. If we consider ourselves friends, I will most likely take it personally. If you say it flippantly, or if I don't have a close relationship with you, then I'll just lose respect for you and assume that you don't know any better.
Anyway, that's how I feel about it.
So ladies-- don't call your friends "bit-chez", please? Just because they do it on the first season of Laguna, doesn't make it cool. And if good women are runnin around calling each other trashy things, how can we expect more from anyone else?
But the thing is, I finally realized you have to go through a situation that requires swearing to really develop an appreciation for it. Having been through a few such sitches, my thinking has changed/matured. I am a cusser. Not a superfluous one by any means, but a cusser nonetheless. Cuss words have a place, just like every other word. Yes, they're kinda gritty, but sometimes there's really just no better way to say what you gotta say.
Now there are still a couple of severe words that you will not hear coming out of my mouth-- because my Savior is much too good and loving and powerful and forgiving for me to put obscenities before or after His name.
But there's a part of me that is minutely infatuated with the proper use of cuss words. In their proper place, they can be very effective. And I know a lot of people think it's a respect thing not to swear in the presence of ladies, but honestly, when we're good enough friends that you can get mad, or get honest or even just slip and say something in front of me? I'm into it. It's a new level of friendship. :) So long as you don't abuse it and develop a limited, R-rated vocabulary.
So… I have cuss words in my life. And I'm okay with this. But—there are some that still rub me the wrong way.
The one I'm talking about today, you can guess from the title of this post. Beside the two most common compound cuss words which are used superfluously in most current pop/rock and hiphop songs (rolls eyes), I do not like the word bitch.
Now granted, there's a place for it. And as a verb, it doesn't bother me as much. But as a noun or an adjective, especially casually?! Oh no. I hate it. I hate it when women call each other that affectionately and I sure as hell better not hear any man calling me that. I don't care if he's joking or not. Those are fightin' words (really they are coming from a female as well) and I sure will put your ass out. Or at least re-evaluate how much time I spend with you if you have the nerve to ever apply those words to my face.
Maybe it's because I feel like on a fleshly level, I have as much license to be a bitch as any other woman, and I choose/God has given me the grace not to be. I believe that word should be reserved for the description of a female with absolutely no social grace, no mercy, no patience, no regard for anyone but herself and an inflated sense of entitlement. Everything I believe urges me to be the polar opposite of that. And if you choose to call me that anyway? It's like a slap in the face. If we consider ourselves friends, I will most likely take it personally. If you say it flippantly, or if I don't have a close relationship with you, then I'll just lose respect for you and assume that you don't know any better.
Anyway, that's how I feel about it.
So ladies-- don't call your friends "bit-chez", please? Just because they do it on the first season of Laguna, doesn't make it cool. And if good women are runnin around calling each other trashy things, how can we expect more from anyone else?
Sunday, June 17, 2007
For the child in all of us...
"Do be free, and do believe,
Do be stayin on your knees,
What you are is what you do--
So just do be do be!
Do be strong, and do be brave,
Do be love, and do behave,
Do be more, and don't be less,
Do be God's, and do be blessed."
This is a clip from a song from my upcoming children's audiobook (which I am currently editing for sound effects). Besides the princess' first song, this one is totally my favorite. The tuba's a little cheestastic... but I just love it. Wait till you hear it, you will too. :) So cute.
It's a good reminder for grown ups too. :)
Do be stayin on your knees,
What you are is what you do--
So just do be do be!
Do be strong, and do be brave,
Do be love, and do behave,
Do be more, and don't be less,
Do be God's, and do be blessed."
This is a clip from a song from my upcoming children's audiobook (which I am currently editing for sound effects). Besides the princess' first song, this one is totally my favorite. The tuba's a little cheestastic... but I just love it. Wait till you hear it, you will too. :) So cute.
It's a good reminder for grown ups too. :)
Friday, June 15, 2007
Tres Historias
A "Such A Time As This" Story
On Wednesday night, I pulled into my driveway after work. As I got out of the car, I noticed our next door neighbor out "walking" his dog in the front yard. I've yet to meet this kid, as we've only lived here about a month and I have sort of a wild schedule. Anyway, he's a good-looking guy, about 25 or so, a bit shorter than me, always working on his car or mowing the lawn, and always without a shirt. (He claims to be allergic. Mmhmm.) He said/sort-of-slurred hello to me across the lawn and as an afterthought, asked my name. I responded, commenting on the fact that it was strange we hadn't officially met yet. I dropped my shoes, my keys and my apron in the house and flipped on the porch light as he and the pup came across the lawn. We shook hands and I learned that his name was Clint, and that his adorable five-month old German Shepherd/Husky mix's name is Mojo. :) Wicked cute.
Anyway, I'm standing in my socks, in the flower beds on my front lawn, talking to this man who I can now tell is clearly wasted. He starts talking and all of a sudden, confessing that he "doesn't even know me and I prolly don't want to hear this", he starts telling me about what's going on in his life, how he's sad because he has to "go away" and by the time he gets back, he won't even recognize his dog. Turns out he's headed to jail for five months for "[getting] angry and doin' something stupid". I didn't inquire the nature of his offense, but instantly felt sympathy for him. I told him that my roommates and I are a praying household, and that we'd be lifting him up during this really craptastic time in his life. And I reassured him that I wasn't just saying that, but that it would actually be done, on a daily basis. He was kind of shocked and very appreciative. He told me he prays every night before bed, mostly about his problems, and I encouraged him to keep talking to God, about anything he wanted, because he would always be heard.
We chatted/he rambled a bit more, and I played with Mojo a bit. After about 10 minutes had passed, we were about to part ways when I told him again that I'd be praying for him. It struck me then that I should pray for him immediately. So I asked him if I could, and while taken aback, he instantly agreed to it. I prayed for his strength, his protection, his heart, his will and his faith.
When I finished, he was sort of quiet. Then he thanked me very sincerely and asked me what church I attended. I told him about Grace, as it is a haven for many young men (and women-- and older men and women!) much like him. I invited him and gave him my number and told him he was welcome to ride with or follow my roommate and I on Sunday morning. He seemed very interested in the possibility, and after that, we shook hands again and parted ways.
When I walked inside, I realized that those 15 minutes were the best part of my day. What a joy to be used by God! To point someone so disheartened in the direction of his Creator! Wow. I was so grateful for that moment. I don't even know if Clint remembered our exchange the next morning, but I've been praying for him, and you're welcome to join me. If all the drama we've been through with this house was simply to remind Clint that Jesus loves him and is with him always? It's been worth it.
An Imaginary Car Chase Story
I made a new friend this week. He's Irish (descended from-- no accent, but can fake it pretty convincingly). He's visiting from Wisconsin, and he has long coppery orange wavy hair and freckles. He's also hysterical-- and can spin a car around 180 degrees and then drive it in the opposite direction.
How do I know this?
He showed me a video on his phone of him doing just that in a snowy parking lot in WI.
...and then (after a tic of deliberation) I let him do it to my car.
We were in the parking lot behind Target in Franklin, started out going backwards at about 20? mph. Then he ripped the wheel around, heading us in the other direction (made a magnificent screech) and sent us flying forward and away from the scene of the (noise) crime.
I know, I know-- one day my "man, this'll make for a great story" excuse is going to get me in mad trouble... but isn't that cool?!?!
By the way, his name is Adam.
I mean, of course it is! ;)
A Delightfully Unfair Story
Okay, clearly my roommate (Kisha-- well, Holly too, but this story is about Kisha) is beautiful. But this is exactly how beautiful (and divinely favored) she is:
Last night, she and I were driving home from Chili's and we got pulled over because her left tail light was out. The popo had noticed this immediately. What he did not notice immediately was the fact that her inspection sticker was expired, the fact that her car is still bearing Texas plates, even though you're supposed to get them switched to Tennessee plates after 30 days of residency-- and yes, we've lived here a year now-- and the fact that she'd left her license at home on her bed.
He asked for her license and registration, one of which, she produced. When she confessed to not having the former, he goes, "Well, here... just write down your name, your social and your birthday so I can run you through the system."
So she does.
He comes back. He tells her to get her light fixed, tells her to always drive with a license, tells her to get her plates changed, gives her directions to the DMV--
And tells us to have a good night.
No tickets. Not even one.
Fie upon the day when all tickets just come in the mail and live popo's are replaced by unsympathetic A.I. robots.
Till then, God bless you, Williamson County traffic law enforcers. We know it's completely unfair and we've done nothing to deserve such favor--
--but we're grateful nonetheless.
:)
THE END
On Wednesday night, I pulled into my driveway after work. As I got out of the car, I noticed our next door neighbor out "walking" his dog in the front yard. I've yet to meet this kid, as we've only lived here about a month and I have sort of a wild schedule. Anyway, he's a good-looking guy, about 25 or so, a bit shorter than me, always working on his car or mowing the lawn, and always without a shirt. (He claims to be allergic. Mmhmm.) He said/sort-of-slurred hello to me across the lawn and as an afterthought, asked my name. I responded, commenting on the fact that it was strange we hadn't officially met yet. I dropped my shoes, my keys and my apron in the house and flipped on the porch light as he and the pup came across the lawn. We shook hands and I learned that his name was Clint, and that his adorable five-month old German Shepherd/Husky mix's name is Mojo. :) Wicked cute.
Anyway, I'm standing in my socks, in the flower beds on my front lawn, talking to this man who I can now tell is clearly wasted. He starts talking and all of a sudden, confessing that he "doesn't even know me and I prolly don't want to hear this", he starts telling me about what's going on in his life, how he's sad because he has to "go away" and by the time he gets back, he won't even recognize his dog. Turns out he's headed to jail for five months for "[getting] angry and doin' something stupid". I didn't inquire the nature of his offense, but instantly felt sympathy for him. I told him that my roommates and I are a praying household, and that we'd be lifting him up during this really craptastic time in his life. And I reassured him that I wasn't just saying that, but that it would actually be done, on a daily basis. He was kind of shocked and very appreciative. He told me he prays every night before bed, mostly about his problems, and I encouraged him to keep talking to God, about anything he wanted, because he would always be heard.
We chatted/he rambled a bit more, and I played with Mojo a bit. After about 10 minutes had passed, we were about to part ways when I told him again that I'd be praying for him. It struck me then that I should pray for him immediately. So I asked him if I could, and while taken aback, he instantly agreed to it. I prayed for his strength, his protection, his heart, his will and his faith.
When I finished, he was sort of quiet. Then he thanked me very sincerely and asked me what church I attended. I told him about Grace, as it is a haven for many young men (and women-- and older men and women!) much like him. I invited him and gave him my number and told him he was welcome to ride with or follow my roommate and I on Sunday morning. He seemed very interested in the possibility, and after that, we shook hands again and parted ways.
When I walked inside, I realized that those 15 minutes were the best part of my day. What a joy to be used by God! To point someone so disheartened in the direction of his Creator! Wow. I was so grateful for that moment. I don't even know if Clint remembered our exchange the next morning, but I've been praying for him, and you're welcome to join me. If all the drama we've been through with this house was simply to remind Clint that Jesus loves him and is with him always? It's been worth it.
An Imaginary Car Chase Story
I made a new friend this week. He's Irish (descended from-- no accent, but can fake it pretty convincingly). He's visiting from Wisconsin, and he has long coppery orange wavy hair and freckles. He's also hysterical-- and can spin a car around 180 degrees and then drive it in the opposite direction.
How do I know this?
He showed me a video on his phone of him doing just that in a snowy parking lot in WI.
...and then (after a tic of deliberation) I let him do it to my car.
We were in the parking lot behind Target in Franklin, started out going backwards at about 20? mph. Then he ripped the wheel around, heading us in the other direction (made a magnificent screech) and sent us flying forward and away from the scene of the (noise) crime.
I know, I know-- one day my "man, this'll make for a great story" excuse is going to get me in mad trouble... but isn't that cool?!?!
By the way, his name is Adam.
I mean, of course it is! ;)
A Delightfully Unfair Story
Okay, clearly my roommate (Kisha-- well, Holly too, but this story is about Kisha) is beautiful. But this is exactly how beautiful (and divinely favored) she is:
Last night, she and I were driving home from Chili's and we got pulled over because her left tail light was out. The popo had noticed this immediately. What he did not notice immediately was the fact that her inspection sticker was expired, the fact that her car is still bearing Texas plates, even though you're supposed to get them switched to Tennessee plates after 30 days of residency-- and yes, we've lived here a year now-- and the fact that she'd left her license at home on her bed.
He asked for her license and registration, one of which, she produced. When she confessed to not having the former, he goes, "Well, here... just write down your name, your social and your birthday so I can run you through the system."
So she does.
He comes back. He tells her to get her light fixed, tells her to always drive with a license, tells her to get her plates changed, gives her directions to the DMV--
And tells us to have a good night.
No tickets. Not even one.
Fie upon the day when all tickets just come in the mail and live popo's are replaced by unsympathetic A.I. robots.
Till then, God bless you, Williamson County traffic law enforcers. We know it's completely unfair and we've done nothing to deserve such favor--
--but we're grateful nonetheless.
:)
THE END
Monday, June 11, 2007
Be Thou My Vision
(I actually wrote this back in January... just never posted it.)
Be Thou My Vision is quite possibly the most beautiful song I've ever heard.
Ever.
It does something to me. Music is an easy trigger for me already, but when I listen to this particular song and really sing it, it's—transformational. It's so dramatically beautiful, so intensely personal and passionate and powerful. It's like switching from black and white to color, from an 8trak to an mp3, from McDonalds to Ruth Chris Steakhouse. It strips my relationship with God to its core, divulging the authenticity of our bond; it's proof that He's no lofty, distant father, trying to connect to his stubborn daughter who's trying to figure out life by deciphering His occasional whispers.
No, no-- it is a perfect and passionate epic love story. It may have been originally penned by a man, but it begins with passionate intensity; with the fiery ardor of a young woman who has just been found by the man she's been waiting for her entire life—and she's only seventeen. He is her first and only true love, the very center of her heart and her entire romantic world. She is thrilled by his every word, illuminated by his very presence. Her attention is entirely devoted to him. She covets his affection as if she would die without it and in fact, there is no room in her heart for anything but him. That kind of ardency builds in my heart for God as I sing this. And the intensity increases more with every verse.
(read this slowly)
Be Thou My Vision, oh Lord of my Heart,
Naught be all else to me—save that Thou art!
Thou my best thought, by day or by night
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
Do you feel it? How she's SO incredibly into Him, can't take her eyes from Him, eats up His every word, His every breath. There's such respect, such devotion, such unbridled joy as a result of their relationship. She's so comfortable in His love for her that she makes her affection for Him overwhelmingly, abundantly clear. And it continues, evolving into an even more confident realization of belonging.
Be Thou my wisdom and Thou my true word
I ever with thee, and Thou with me, Lord!
Thou my Great Father, and I thy true son,
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.
And now, now she's freakin sold out. For her, there is only Him. He is her sole reason for living. It breaks my own heart that that kind of devotion sounds so ridiculous to me. Because what generally happens when you allow yourself to get that attached to someone? They leave you. They totally let you down and abandon you.
But this is a different story. He has become her everything-- but He's still around. And by some miracle, He's not going anywhere. And that security births within her an otherworldly confidence, a supernatural comfort and strength. She has been claimed eternally. Wow, wow, wow. Unbelievable. Maybe it's different for guys, but ladies, come on—do you not yearn to be eternally claimed?! And I mean it in the freest sense of the word; no chains, no contracts, no "TOKEN SIDEKICK" stamp on your forehead—just a fierce and undying love that will always protect you, always defend you, always involve you in the adventure, always have your best interests at heart and never, never leave?!?!
That's what she's found in Him. That's what she's living. He has never left her, never let her down. I can only imagine the kind of character that's produced by being marinated in a love like that for years and years. Good God, what a woman I would be.
Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise
Thou mine inheritance now and always!
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart
High King of Heaven, my treasure thou art.
You can just feel the security, the stability, the unshakable confidence that she is absolutely content in the love of her Lover, and probably absolutely dysfunctional without Him. Fortunately, she never has to be without Him-- not now, not ever. Because by the last verse, she's reaching the end of life, and she's still as devoted as ever. Her raging, mad passion for him has turned to a steady eternal flame; faithful, true, constant and still as ardent as ever. The love is now mature, old and seasoned and impenetrable. It's that ancient couple you see sitting on a bench holding hands in the park. It's a sublimely peaceful life moment, a joyful anticipation of heaven and a sense of completion, of peace with the course of your entire well-purposed life. What a way to go, what a legacy to leave.
High King of Heaven, my victories won,
May I reach heavens joys, bright heaven's sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall
Still be my vision, oh Ruler of All.
God, I want this. I covet all of it with my deepest heart. To bow before you, like Arwen before Aragorn, and to have you lift my chin back up to meet your gaze, unwilling to be parted from my countenance, unwilling to be away from my side. Love me like that, God. And teach me to be a queen who is eternally infatuated with her King.
Be Thou My Vision is quite possibly the most beautiful song I've ever heard.
Ever.
It does something to me. Music is an easy trigger for me already, but when I listen to this particular song and really sing it, it's—transformational. It's so dramatically beautiful, so intensely personal and passionate and powerful. It's like switching from black and white to color, from an 8trak to an mp3, from McDonalds to Ruth Chris Steakhouse. It strips my relationship with God to its core, divulging the authenticity of our bond; it's proof that He's no lofty, distant father, trying to connect to his stubborn daughter who's trying to figure out life by deciphering His occasional whispers.
No, no-- it is a perfect and passionate epic love story. It may have been originally penned by a man, but it begins with passionate intensity; with the fiery ardor of a young woman who has just been found by the man she's been waiting for her entire life—and she's only seventeen. He is her first and only true love, the very center of her heart and her entire romantic world. She is thrilled by his every word, illuminated by his very presence. Her attention is entirely devoted to him. She covets his affection as if she would die without it and in fact, there is no room in her heart for anything but him. That kind of ardency builds in my heart for God as I sing this. And the intensity increases more with every verse.
(read this slowly)
Be Thou My Vision, oh Lord of my Heart,
Naught be all else to me—save that Thou art!
Thou my best thought, by day or by night
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
Do you feel it? How she's SO incredibly into Him, can't take her eyes from Him, eats up His every word, His every breath. There's such respect, such devotion, such unbridled joy as a result of their relationship. She's so comfortable in His love for her that she makes her affection for Him overwhelmingly, abundantly clear. And it continues, evolving into an even more confident realization of belonging.
Be Thou my wisdom and Thou my true word
I ever with thee, and Thou with me, Lord!
Thou my Great Father, and I thy true son,
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.
And now, now she's freakin sold out. For her, there is only Him. He is her sole reason for living. It breaks my own heart that that kind of devotion sounds so ridiculous to me. Because what generally happens when you allow yourself to get that attached to someone? They leave you. They totally let you down and abandon you.
But this is a different story. He has become her everything-- but He's still around. And by some miracle, He's not going anywhere. And that security births within her an otherworldly confidence, a supernatural comfort and strength. She has been claimed eternally. Wow, wow, wow. Unbelievable. Maybe it's different for guys, but ladies, come on—do you not yearn to be eternally claimed?! And I mean it in the freest sense of the word; no chains, no contracts, no "TOKEN SIDEKICK" stamp on your forehead—just a fierce and undying love that will always protect you, always defend you, always involve you in the adventure, always have your best interests at heart and never, never leave?!?!
That's what she's found in Him. That's what she's living. He has never left her, never let her down. I can only imagine the kind of character that's produced by being marinated in a love like that for years and years. Good God, what a woman I would be.
Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise
Thou mine inheritance now and always!
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart
High King of Heaven, my treasure thou art.
You can just feel the security, the stability, the unshakable confidence that she is absolutely content in the love of her Lover, and probably absolutely dysfunctional without Him. Fortunately, she never has to be without Him-- not now, not ever. Because by the last verse, she's reaching the end of life, and she's still as devoted as ever. Her raging, mad passion for him has turned to a steady eternal flame; faithful, true, constant and still as ardent as ever. The love is now mature, old and seasoned and impenetrable. It's that ancient couple you see sitting on a bench holding hands in the park. It's a sublimely peaceful life moment, a joyful anticipation of heaven and a sense of completion, of peace with the course of your entire well-purposed life. What a way to go, what a legacy to leave.
High King of Heaven, my victories won,
May I reach heavens joys, bright heaven's sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall
Still be my vision, oh Ruler of All.
God, I want this. I covet all of it with my deepest heart. To bow before you, like Arwen before Aragorn, and to have you lift my chin back up to meet your gaze, unwilling to be parted from my countenance, unwilling to be away from my side. Love me like that, God. And teach me to be a queen who is eternally infatuated with her King.
Christening
Come one, come all to the brand new blog.
The blog of my heart and not of my social filter. The blog of my utter frustration and unbridled joy. Welcome to an authentic shard of my creative soul, a brief glimpse through my own personal kaleidescope. Welcome to a scribble of unrefined musings, a public journal of a quest for understanding and occasionally, the prowling grounds for an untamed tongue.
Everything is up for discussion... but there are certain Truths that no opinion can ever contest.
Love me if you will, or fight me if you won't.
But as always, feel free to speak your mind, and please, make yourself at home.
The blog of my heart and not of my social filter. The blog of my utter frustration and unbridled joy. Welcome to an authentic shard of my creative soul, a brief glimpse through my own personal kaleidescope. Welcome to a scribble of unrefined musings, a public journal of a quest for understanding and occasionally, the prowling grounds for an untamed tongue.
Everything is up for discussion... but there are certain Truths that no opinion can ever contest.
Love me if you will, or fight me if you won't.
But as always, feel free to speak your mind, and please, make yourself at home.
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