Late night.
Lots of thoughts.
Heavy heart.
Wearing a grey beanie.
Lots of thoughts.
Heavy heart.
Wearing a grey beanie.
Sitting on the floor, Indian-style and hunched to reach this keyboard.
Bad posture.
Listening to Owl City.
Meteor Shower.
Replaying song over and over, hoping the words might seep through my skin, crawl past my ribs and around my lungs, and be welcomed into wherever that invisible heart lives. That heart which does not pump blood, beat, or attack a person, but rather is. Is the person. The being. All the characteristics and elements which make a person who he or she is. All contained somewhere deep within.
A cold chill sweeps through my navy polo shirt and grey waffle undershirt. The cold surrounds me, as if a pack of wolves had found me alone in the woods.
My thoughts make no sense.
Neither do my words.
Analogies only go so far sometimes. Doubtful C.S. Lewis always found the words to describe how he was feeling as his wife lay dying. I cannot seem to make the words come tonight. Not really sure how I am feeling. Isn't that what words are supposed to help with? But what happens when the words even fail? My apple tree is picked bare and I am starving. The doctor will not like this one bit.
Where is my foundation? What happened to the ground I thought I was standing on?
GOD... where are you? What is happening? I desperately need you! Please forgive my actions, for they betray my confidence.
Somewhere. Deep. My heart can feel you. It knows you. It struggles to understand you, but it knows you exist. It tries to give you certain personalities and physical features. You can't blame it, that is all it knows to do. It tries to fathom, I promise. I am sorry for getting so distracted. Sorry doesn't seem like enough.
I run my fingers through my blonde hair, pushing the beanie back a little.
Fireflies now plays.
My breathing is steady, controlled.
Mouth is dry.
If you're still reading this far and waiting for the plot line...
...wait, come a little closer...
*whispering* ... so am I!
Maybe sleep would be a welcome guest. Apparently Owl City hasn't slept in two days! That is what he just told me. I promise!
I don't normally write this absent-pointedly. I just needed to try. Try and say something that you could tell all your friends on facebook tomorrow. Something you would find yourself saying at strange moments in conversations with people. Those moments when you are trying to sound all "thick-rimmed black glasses." Something deeply profound. Haha. That is funny.
Ok, I will let you go now. Have fun on facebook. Tell all your friends that Nat says HI.
I will close with the words of Mat Kearney:
"Where could I turn from you
The darkest nights, you know you'd find a way
What else have I to do
What words are there left to say
You are the air that I breathe in
Here is my heart I give
You are all of my reason
You are my reason to live"
Bad posture.
Listening to Owl City.
Meteor Shower.
Replaying song over and over, hoping the words might seep through my skin, crawl past my ribs and around my lungs, and be welcomed into wherever that invisible heart lives. That heart which does not pump blood, beat, or attack a person, but rather is. Is the person. The being. All the characteristics and elements which make a person who he or she is. All contained somewhere deep within.
A cold chill sweeps through my navy polo shirt and grey waffle undershirt. The cold surrounds me, as if a pack of wolves had found me alone in the woods.
My thoughts make no sense.
Neither do my words.
Analogies only go so far sometimes. Doubtful C.S. Lewis always found the words to describe how he was feeling as his wife lay dying. I cannot seem to make the words come tonight. Not really sure how I am feeling. Isn't that what words are supposed to help with? But what happens when the words even fail? My apple tree is picked bare and I am starving. The doctor will not like this one bit.
Where is my foundation? What happened to the ground I thought I was standing on?
GOD... where are you? What is happening? I desperately need you! Please forgive my actions, for they betray my confidence.
Somewhere. Deep. My heart can feel you. It knows you. It struggles to understand you, but it knows you exist. It tries to give you certain personalities and physical features. You can't blame it, that is all it knows to do. It tries to fathom, I promise. I am sorry for getting so distracted. Sorry doesn't seem like enough.
I run my fingers through my blonde hair, pushing the beanie back a little.
Fireflies now plays.
My breathing is steady, controlled.
Mouth is dry.
If you're still reading this far and waiting for the plot line...
...wait, come a little closer...
*whispering* ... so am I!
Maybe sleep would be a welcome guest. Apparently Owl City hasn't slept in two days! That is what he just told me. I promise!
I don't normally write this absent-pointedly. I just needed to try. Try and say something that you could tell all your friends on facebook tomorrow. Something you would find yourself saying at strange moments in conversations with people. Those moments when you are trying to sound all "thick-rimmed black glasses." Something deeply profound. Haha. That is funny.
Ok, I will let you go now. Have fun on facebook. Tell all your friends that Nat says HI.
I will close with the words of Mat Kearney:
"Where could I turn from you
The darkest nights, you know you'd find a way
What else have I to do
What words are there left to say
You are the air that I breathe in
Here is my heart I give
You are all of my reason
You are my reason to live"
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