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Saturday, February 28, 2009

009. fashion week: jennifer love hewitt

The beautiful Jennifer Love Hewitt at the Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week show.

Images courtesy of Getty Images

008. fashion week: taylor momsen

Young actress Taylor Momsen in New York City for the Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week.

Photos courtesy of Getty Images

007. fashion week: designer jen kao

Designer Jen Kao arriving at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week in New York.

Image courtesy of Getty Images

006. fashion week: diane kruger

Actress Diane Kruger at the Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week in New York City.

Photos courtesy of Getty Images

005. fashion week: dj leigh lezark

DJ Leigh Lezark at Mercedes-Benz (New York) Fashion Week.

Photos courtesy of Getty Images

004. fashion week: paris hilton

Paris Hilton at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week (New York Fashion Week).

Photo courtesy of AOL Entertainment

003. fashion week: leighton meester

Leighton Meester at the Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week.

Images courtesy of LeightonFan.Net

i live to let you shine, three

Photo by David Christoffersson


The clock had rang and made a loud noise. It alarmed us, but mostly the two that were sleeping – Jonah and Adam. They woke up suddenly but their motions were slow.

“Rise and shine, beauty and beast.” Tristan greeted them, jokingly.
“You know,” Adam stretched and yawned, “I’m the beauty.” He chuckled lightly and sat up.
Jonah threw his pillow at Adam and hit him right in the face. He sat up and laughed at Adam lightly, as did the rest of the group.
“Beast.” Adam said groggily.
“What time is it?”
“Six in the evening.” I answered.

“Well, give us a minute and we’ll be ready to go.” Adam said, standing up and heading for the washroom. Jonah followed, except he went to a small isolated area in the room where there was just a mirror. Jonah was never high-maintenance, so he was a pleasure to travel around with. We travel a lot as a band, and it gets quite crazy. We mainly travel in North America and Europe, but it still is intense and insane.

Adam came out of the washroom, looking better and groomed. “Let’s go, kids.” He said with a big grin on his face. Jonah took one quick glance in the mirror before turning around and following the rest of the group as we headed out into the night, ready for some fun.

There were bars all over New York City. It was full of madness. We decided to enter one bar that looked as if it was selling and popular. The bartenders weren’t outstanding, but nevertheless, the beer was awesome. Adam was already hitting on the prettiest bartender in the joint, and Tristan was following closely behind. Jonah was just drinking and gulping, soaking down all his beer before getting another glass. If I had to guess, he must have already had three, maybe four. I decided to sit beside Jonah, ordering a shot and gulping it down quickly. I was ready to have a fun night, but I was never the kind to get really drunk – especially since we had a show tomorrow.

“Hey kid, don’t shoot them all down so quickly.” I said to Jonah as I set my shot glass down.
“One night only.” He simply replied.
I gave him a look as if he were already drunk. “We’re here for at least two weeks.”
“What?” He took another sip of his drink. “Oh, right. Sorry mate, I’m just so out of it right now.”
“It’s not just the drinks, is it?” I asked, patting him on the back. He just shook his head lightly. “Definitely not.”

Jonah and his girlfriend are relying on each other to keep their long distance relationship working. Up until about a week ago, it was going great. I was really proud of Jonah. We, as a band, travel all across Europe and North America, meeting new people and playing new shows. We experience new things, and sometimes the idea of having a significant other doesn’t always excite us; it’s different for Jonah.

Having his girlfriend, Kayla, means the world to him. The whole band knows this; heck, the whole world knows this. Jonah’s had relationships before, but nothing this serious. And he’s never been this serious about any of them. It’s been about a year and a half already, and we all thought they were going to be steady and strong for a long time.

When Jonah had told Kayla that we were heading off to New York City, where she currently resides, a small argument resulted which then turned into a fight. Kayla didn’t have a kind, positive or excited reaction. It did not smoothly go along the lines of, “Oh hooray! I get to see you!” Not one bit. She reacted in a way that no one expected, especially not Jonah. He had explained the conversation clearly to us, and it wasn’t pleasant at all.

I couldn’t exactly relate to Jonah, but I felt his pain. I felt how deep his girlfriend’s words had cut him. I felt the scars that would last until her hands decide to heal them. He was never the emotional type, but Jonah was sincere.

I gave him another pat on the back. “It’ll last, bro.” I assured him, but he just continued to sink down his drinks like anchors.

The time passed by fast like cars, and before I knew it, Jonah was spread out on the bed and Adam, along with Tristan, was hanging outside with a couple of girls. I was lying down on the couch, resting my eyes. It was a long night, and when I looked at the clock, I noticed it was half past two in the morning. “Beautiful,” I whispered to myself and I let my eyes close and my mind wander off to sleep.

I woke up, dreary, at around eleven in the morning. I woke the rest of the band – they were scattered all over the room. Jonah on the bed, Tristan on the ground, Adam in the bath tub for some odd reason. Our show was at one thirty and we had to be at the venue before that, obviously.

I had the weirdest dream about that girl that had bumped into me. Definitely not the kind of dream I was expecting, but I dreamed that she was at our venue, watching our show. As I pondered my dream, I got dressed and so did the guys. We decided to head out for lunch before going to the venue.

We ended up getting some sandwiches and coffees at this café, and it tasted pretty good. Café Beret was the name - I read it on our way out. It was only a block away from the motel, and a block away from the venue so we walked. The venue was still empty, of course, but two or three people were there, helping us set up. I anticipated a great show.

why love

"Love is the only thing in this world that does not hurt."

Throughout your years, falling in love with someone will be a long lasting experience. It might not last very long, but the effects and lessons learned will.
Rejection hurts, losing someone hurts, loneliness hurts, envy hurts.
Love covers all of the hurt and pain and puts you in a happy place.
People mistake all that hurt and pain for love.

Reality is that all of that hurt and pain are just what comes out of love.
Not every relationship has a happy ending, and it's broken. Hence why they call it a "break-up".
All of that pain and hurt is just the result of a love that wasn't meant to be, and people confuse it for actual love.

Love - the journey, the destination ...
It's such a small, four letter word but yet it comes with such a heavy and large package full of responsibility, dangers, care, hope, problems ...
We all just have to face it and open up the package, ready to deal.

Ups and downs, and especially when it's over, it hurts.
People learn and I've learned that love doesn't hurt but what comes out of it can sometimes hurt.

People say that's why it's called falling in love.
Does this mean falling doesn't hurt?

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

i live to let you shine, two

The cab dropped us off at the nearest motel. It looked pretty decent, and it was only a block away from the venue. At least it wasn’t messy, full of graffiti or anything like that. Since I was the lead singer and pianist of our group, I was usually the one to register or check in at motels or hotels. The guys either didn’t want to speak because they didn’t want to experience another “What did you say?” moment because of their accents, or were just too lazy to speak politely. I walked to the front office while the band hung outside the room. “Excuse me, miss?”

She was busy writing something down, but she had looked up right away. “Can I help you?” She said this fast, and then slow. I think it was because of my accent. Or maybe my looks, who knows which of the two. Maybe even both. Now I’m not trying to boast or be conceited but I can sometimes have this affect on people. However, this rarely happens when I’m in England. There’s something that American girls, I suppose, like about British boys.

“Is there a room I can perhaps check in to?” I asked in my most polite tone. “Um,” she rustled through her papers before answering me, “yes. Room Fourteen should be available by now. The guest should have already headed out, so you may have that room.”
“Thank you. Do you have the key?”
“Yes, I do.” She spun her chair around to the corkboard that had only a few keys hanging. She took the one with the big fourteen on it and handed it over to me with a smile. “Here you go. Enjoy your stay.”
“I will. Thank you.” I said, smiling back at her and heading out to meet the band.

“Dude, what room?” Tristan, our drummer, asked.
“Fourteen.” I said, passing him and heading down the pavement to find room fourteen. It was on the ground level and it wasn’t that hard to find. Fourteen is quite a close number to the office compared to something like thirty-two. The guys followed and within minutes, we found the door with the number fourteen on it. I stuck the key in the door, but Jonah, our bassist, knocked my hand away.
“Maybe it’s open, mate. I think it is, because look,” he pointed to the window with drowsy white curtains hanging, “a girl’s heading out.” Jonah had his thick Australian accent, and never bothered to use his American accent. He hated when people would ask him what he was saying. He thought it was disrespectful and rude, and he also thought that people should clean their ears. By now, I’ve gotten used to it as the rest have gotten used to mine. To be honest, accents aren’t hard to understand.

I waited, standing my ground in front of the door. It didn’t take long until the door swung open away from me and a young, slender girl knocked right into me. She was about ready to fall on her bottom but I caught her from her back just in time. She looked confused, and she had bed hair. She looked like she had just gotten out of bed and didn’t bother to brush or make herself look presentable. Not that she wasn’t pretty, she was. She stood just below my chin and her hair was wavy, ending just past her shoulder blades. She was wearing a floral skirt with a loose shirt, and had a sling bag across her shoulder. She blinked a couple times, but I didn’t wait for her to speak first.

“Sorry to be bugging you at such an early time.” I apologized, feeling bad that I almost knocked her down. I thought that would have been enough to wake her up.

“Oh, um, no. It’s okay. I’m sorry for having bumped into you.” Her low, soft voice said. She seemed dreary and groggy, but her eyes were stationed on me. I could see her taking the time to look where her eye level was – my neck and chest – and then she made her way up to meet contact with my eyes. She stared at them for a while, but I decided to break the short silence.

“I’m guessing you’re heading out now?” I smiled lightly, to avoid any awkwardness, but it only lasted a short half second or so.

“Yeah, that I am. I’m sorry, again.” She almost whispered. I nearly did not hear her, and to be honest, at first I heard something like: “Ha-ham. Sore eye, gun.” But I was smart enough to know that it wasn’t what she had said.

She rushed out of the room quick that I could feel the lightest breeze against my skin when she passed, and I smelled her scent, and she smelled like marijuana, surprisingly. I began to wonder if she had done the drug inside the room.

I watched her walk out, or rather run out and onto the sidewalk. She stopped once she had reached it and looked as if she was panting. I saw her shake her head before she turned around. We met eyes again, but she broke the contact and continued walking quickly along. I continued to stare, watching until a building had covered her figure, and I shrugged lightly to myself. “What an odd girl.”

I walked into the room where my band had already put down their stuff. I placed my guitar down as well and slouched over on the couch. “How many people do you think will be there tomorrow?” I asked the group.

“It’s not a huge venue, Matt.” Adam, our lead guitarist, responded.
“That’s true.” Jonah added.
I thought about it for a second. “So? It’s bigger than our usual venues.”
“I guess that’s true.” Tristan joined.

“So anyway, what about that girl?” Jonah asked me.
“Um,” I looked at him, confused, “what about that girl?”
“Oh nothing, just wondering if anything went on, you know.” He said, shrugging.
I answered sarcastically. “Surely.”

“You know, there’s always one girl you hook up with whenever we play a new show.” Tristan added. “It’s crazy, playboy.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” I laughed at him. “Adam does it all the time too. Girls are all over the guy.”

“You know me. You’re all jealous because no girls are running for you guys.” Adam chuckled.
“You wish, Adam.” The whole band replied in unison.

We hung out at the motel room for the rest of the afternoon, planning to head out once it reached dark.

Monday, February 23, 2009

there is a difference

There's a difference between "drifting" and something like, let's say, going seperate ways.
drift (drft)
v. drift·ed, drift·ing, drifts
1. To be carried along by currents of air or water: a balloon drifting eastward; as the wreckage drifted toward shore.
2. To proceed or move unhurriedly and smoothly: drifting among the party guests.
3. To move leisurely or sporadically from place to place, especially without purpose or regular employment: a day laborer, drifting from town to town.
Drifting is slowly parting ways.
It hurts because it is slow.
It hurts because it is slow and painful.
Kind of like a slow and painful death.

And it hurts because once the drift has finally made itself permanent, only then does it sink in. And it sinks your heart down like an anchor.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

002. celeb style: mischa barton

Mischa leaving a party.

001. celeb style: hilary duff

Hilary talking on the phone while doing some grocery shopping.

Friday, February 20, 2009

sometimes i'm here, but i'll always be (link)

I saw the future once, I was drunk in a phone booth. My eyes were wet and red but I could not tell what was said and through the screams of the traffic; voices carried saying 'I am sorry.' On a day so grey it's black inside, watching churches on TV. In a coma you don't dream - you just hope that someone sits with you.

quote from douglas coupland

Monday, February 16, 2009


is all about taking chances.

Without that, nobody advances.

i live to let you shine

Just something I started when I was bored last night.

His name was Mattias. You would think that another person, who was just like you and did the same things as you, could not ever make you a better person – they would only help enhance your experiences. The experiences that you always wanted to escape. However, if you believe that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, sooner or later, you will reach your destination even if it takes some help from somebody else.

Hope was forever lost, and with each step I took, it seemed another mile away. I kept reminding myself that after the night, a new dawn will break, a new beginning. However, this day seemed never ending, as if I wouldn’t ever reach the start of a new day. I heard my shoes scratch the pavement as I walked, groggy. My phone kept on vibrating and ringing and the caller I.D. said it was Julius. I didn’t understand why Julius cared so much. In fact, he was one of the reasons why I decided to pack my things and leave.

As I walked, I passed by numerous hookers trying to get rides at the corners of the streets, druggies smoking up their marijuana in dark alleys and more than one fight that was taken outside of a bar. The sights weren’t pleasant at all, considering that the hookers would give me dirty looks, the druggies would invite me to smoke with them and fights were so obnoxiously loud. I continued to walk and Julius continued to call.

After about twenty minutes of him calling consecutively, my leg was getting extremely tired of feeling the vibration, and my ears were getting bored of hearing the ringing tone. I took it out of my skirt pocket and snapped it open.

“What is it, Julius?!” I screamed into the speaker.
Julius screamed back at me. “Bloody Christ, you’ve finally picked up!” He sounded angry, not the least bit concerned.
“What if I were the one to call you non-stop for twenty minutes, huh?”
“What if?” He questioned back. “Anyway, that is beside the point. The smart move would be to get your dumbass back home, right now.”
“And what has been running through your mind, you idiot? Never on God’s green earth would I consider it. You honestly think I’d do that?”
He was silent for a minute or two. “Yes, I think you actually would.”
“Oh, you’re funny, Julius.” Sarcasm was like my first language. “You want me to get home, but I highly doubt you’d even get up off your lazy ass to come and find me.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“No, I actually wouldn’t. You don’t even care, not even a bit. There’s no use, now is there?”
Again, he was silent for a moment. I started to think that I hit him with a bullet when I had said that he didn’t care until he responded coldly. “You know what, to hell with it.”

I couldn’t even answer to him; he had already hung up on me. I took a deep breath, keeping myself from bursting into rage. Furious, I continued to walk until I had reached a motel. I quickly checked in and exhaustedly let myself fall flat on the bed. At least it was comfortable, unlike my mind which was racing with animosity.

Things hadn’t been going well at home with my family ever since my oldest brother, Calvin, died. Sure, it was tragic, but tragic things happened to me all the time. A rough past has stayed with me. Every step, it was walking beside with me just like a weight. The only thing I’m afraid of is that a rough future waits ahead for me.

Calvin was always the star of the show, always the one getting noticed. He was the popular guy who was into sports, but wasn’t a jock. He was the one who got good grades, but wasn’t a nerd. He was the one who was skilled at everything, but never bragged too much. He was the one who was born and raised in France. Raised in an environment where you had to work for everything you had. Respect was earned through the things you did and not through the clothes you wore or the people you hang out with.

On the other hand, Julius was born in England. However he was raised in the States. Morals, values … everything is extremely different. For some reason, Julius was always the tough love kind of brother. He was the one who never approved of any guy. He was the one who was always on your parents’ side if you ever argued with them. He was the one who’s never acted like he loved you in any kind of way. He was the brother you always hated. There were no buts. Favoritism is what it is, and I favored Calvin.

After he died, it was like a big hole was poked through our family. There was a gap in between each of us and it only made itself worse, growing bigger each hour of each day of each month of each year. It tore us apart and stretched us in ways I never thought a loss could.

We were supposed to be family, but at that moment, just days after Calvin’s funeral, it only felt as if we were a bunch of strangers grouped together to live in one house for the rest of our lives. That wasn’t what I had planned out for myself. I had no intentions of living with people who I didn’t know. And that’s what it was. I was living with people I didn’t know.

Experiencing a death of a loved one – not only did it change my family but it also changed my views remarkably on how people can change. Whether it be good or bad, it’s dramatic. Calvin’s death took its toll on all of us. Whenever Calvin pops into mind, I don’t think he would be very proud of where I’m heading, or even worse – where our family has already gone. In all honesty, our family is already gone. Looking back on it now, it seems as if Calvin was the only thing that was keeping our family together. He was the only reason I kept on holding on.

It hasn’t even been five years since his death, and things are slowly but surely falling down even deeper; as if it isn’t already down deep enough. These past two years, all I’ve heard repeatedly was “Analise, you just don’t get it, do you?” or “You’re not even contributing to this family.” Somewhere along those lines. These past two years, I’ve been the only one who’s been dealing with Calvin’s death. These past two years, I’ve been the only one trying to live a normal life. These past two years, I’ve been the only one trying to glue my family back together, but my words and my care aren’t enough to keep them in tact.

I fell asleep that night, crying. I woke up to my dried tears that streamed across my cheeks and an almost dry pillow. I sat up, and tried to remember what exactly had happened last night. I did lock the door, right? No, I didn't, because I rushed out to the room so fast that the woman at the desk didn't have the time to give me one, I thought to myself as I inhaled, smelling the smoke and scent of marijuana. Disturbed by the smell, I grabbed my bag and put on my shoes. I quickly rushed out of the motel room until I hit something hard, almost like brick. I would have fallen if it weren’t for the long arms that had caught me by my back. Confused and dazed, I looked up. I was still tired so my vision wasn’t all that well, but I saw a face of a man. The figure was built – tall and lean. I also saw a shadow of people behind him. I blinked a couple of times to clear my blurry sight.

“Sorry to be bugging you at such an early time.” I saw the man’s lips move, a deep voice coming out of his mouth. His English accent was thick as if he had just come from England the night before.

“Oh, um, no. It’s okay. I’m sorry for having bumped into you.” I blinked a couple more times before my vision had completely cleared. I was right – he was tall and lean. He was built and you could see his muscles through his white t-shirt. He wasn’t the scary type of built though, not the kind you’d see in muscle competitions or anything. He had the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen and it was as if they’d never end. It was all I could stare at before he had interrupted my day dreaming.

“I’m guessing you’re heading out now?” He smiled lightly for a half second, leaving me completely speechless. I had to shake my head to get back into reality.

“Yeah, that I am. I’m sorry, again.” I mumbled, mostly to myself. I half ran out that motel room, passing quickly by his small group of friends and onto the sidewalk. Once I had reached it, I stopped for a moment to catch a breath. I closed my eyes and shook my head at myself.

Unrealistic dreaming was what my mind was made of. Unreal fantasies that I knew could never come true. I always filled my head with untrue expectations and realities and today, it was seriously getting the better of me. I took a glance behind my back, at the motel room, and I noticed him staring at me. His friends had already gone in the room, I had guessed, considering they were no longer behind him. He stood at the doorway, staring at me. I snapped back around and started to walk in a hurry.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

this is my life

Open up your mind
Open up your eyes
Even when I'm gone
My message will not die

Open up your heart
Open up your soul
Here is a story
Let the truth be told

I have the weight of the world upon my shoulders
Getting harder each day, people only get colder
Mom's working two jobs for me, keeping food on the table
Dad's trying his best to at least be stable
In the back of my mind, I'm thinking my life is screwed up
It's only messed up, my head is fucked up
But I know I'm leading a good one compared to the other ones
Where life is lived in poverty, with drugs, drinks and other guns
Love is the only thing that keeps this world spinning round
But I see hate overtaking it, we're getting drowned

Open up your mind
Open up your eyes
Even when I'm gone
My message will not die

Open up your heart
Open up your soul
Here is a story
Let the truth be told

Kids running on the street, taking advice from street hoods
Who are roaming and loafting around up to no good
I've got fresh wounds and everlasting scars
As well as the people around me, but this life is ours
This life is hard, this life we live
It looks like drugs and guns is all we've got to give
But we've got to forgive and thrive, keep holding on
And keep holding, make sure the love's not all gone

Open up your mind
Open up your eyes
Even when I'm gone
My message will not die

Open up your heart
Open up your soul
Here is a story
Let the truth be told

- MDT.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

bearer of bad news

The roads I take seem never ending.
A ray of light won't ever appear.
A happy ever after is nowhere near.

The roads I take seem never ending.
Hope won't ever come.
Faith isn't around, not even some.

The roads I take seem never ending.
Bad news at every corner.
And I'm the only foreginer.

The roads I take seem never ending.
In circles is the way I walk.
These walls, they whisper and talk.

The roads I take seem never ending.
They lead me nowhere.
The sky above won't answer to my prayer.

The roads I take seem never ending.
The roads I take seem never ending.
The roads I take seem never ending.

God, whisper to me an answer.
God, whisper to me anything.

The roads I take seem never ending.

It's only a matter of time.

Friday, February 13, 2009

love and all that comes with it

There are many ways to define love, even in the dictionary. But here are the three first definitions of love taken from the dictionary:

1. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
2. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion of sex and romance.
3. a. Sexual passion.
b. Sexual intercourse.
c. A love affair.
And according to the bible, this would be considered love:

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails; but if there are gifts of prophecy, they will be done away; if there are tongues, they will cease; if there is knowledge, it will be done away.
... But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love.

I'd hate to be the one writing down the dictionary definitions because in all honesty, love is different for everyone.
However, I feel as if the bible has the better view of love.

Love is not just holding hands, kissing or hugging.
Love isn't just making eye contact or hanging out for a few hours.

Love definitely isn't just saying "I love you".

Love can be expressed in over thousands of ways, and love means thousands of things.
One never knows love until they experience it.
And I don't know if I have. I'd like to say I have, because by my definition of love - I really have.
Love between family members, close friends and maybe, sometimes, even if for a short while, a significant other.

Love is love. How can you change that, or replace that, with anything else?
Love is precious and it takes time.
Love doesn't not come around too often.
Love isn't money - you can't just hand it to someone. You can't just expect something back.

Love and all that comes with it - a mixture of good and bad, happy and sad, exciting and frightening - we must be grateful for it.
Without love, where would the world be?
Love has helped the world turn.
Love has helped the world change.

Love is not just a feeling - it's an experience.
Love is not just a stop along the way - it's the destination.
Love is a journey that grows step by step, bit by bit ... only getting better.

Love isn't just between one man and one woman.
Love can be between a man and a man or a woman and woman.
Love can be between a mother and her child, or a father and his child.
Love can be between a friend and a friend.
Love can be between a brother and a sister, a sister and a sister, a sister and a brother, a brother and a brother.

There is not just one kind of love.
It comes in different forms, shapes, sizes, and kinds that we cannot even imagine to think of.

We're all too blinded by all this hate and regret and selfishness that we can't take a few seconds out of our day to say "Thank you" to that stranger who holds open your door or to your friend who picks up your pen. We can't say it to our mom who cooks our dinner and our dad who drives us to school. We can't smile back at the stranger who smiled or help an old woman carry her groceries out to her car. We can't call up an old friend and ask them to hang out for a few hours just to catch up. We can't see past the shadows, mistakes, flaws and imperfections of others and we judge them on their past. We can't go a day without having to talk about another person. Why not?

Hate is taking over. And we all have choices. We have the other options.

The Way I See It:
Hate is easy.
Love takes courage.

"Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets these things confused with love, but in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all pain and makes someone feel wonderful again. Love is the only thing in this world that does not hurt."

Thursday, February 12, 2009

composed of gravity pulling me down

Oh, I've been travelling on this road too long
Just trying to find my way back home
But all of me is dead and gone, dead and gone

I don't know why people think there isn't any way to change.
As if they never will have and never have had a choice.
But there is always a choice.

I'm trying not to judge based on what has happened in the past,
because I know for a fact that people can change.
It's possible - I've seen it firsthand, and so have you.
Barack Obama ring a bell? That's extreme change.

I went from being vulnerable and a follower
to being strong and a leader.

I went from caring too much about the opinion of others
to not caring at all who believes what.

Nobody can doubt me anymore because I don't care.
My family and my best friends are the only opinions I take time considering.

Me, and nothing else in the way.
Me and my family, friends and the ones I love.
Me and God, side by side.

Me, because the rest of the don't matter.
It's the only clear way of thinking for me.

Gravity is the only thing pulling me down,
but nothing else will stop me.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

i have You

When all else fails, I want to know that I have You.
When everyone walks out, I want to know that You will stay.
When all of them close the doors, I want to know that You will hold one open.
When everybody walks ahead, I want to know that You will walk beside.
When nobody reaches out a hand, I want to know that You will grab mine.

The only thing worth fighting for,
the only thing worth striving for,
the only thing worth living for,
is You.

God helps me through the days.
God is enough to help me through the days.