Pinterest Inspiration as of lately pt. 8
God has brought me to places I’ve wanted to write about. Usually before I’ve known that they are the places I want to write about. There’s a story in my head, about a city surrounded by desert, and last year I found that desert. On outreach in Kenya our bus broke down in the middle of nowhere. We had to wait there, on dusty ground, in warm wind, as the sun set and the full moon rose. I had the realisation that it was the very desert I wanted to write about, and sat quietly with eyes wide open and mind spinning in the jeep that drove us back. And now Tokyo feels like the city I want to write. Or rather, I feel in it the way I want my characters to feel.
Insert sentences about how God is more comitted to your dreams than you are. And to, well, you.
Amen.
Tokyo
I’m in Tokyo for three weeks, on outreach with YWAM(!!!!!) It’s insane and crazy and surreal, and so very Japan.
Japan is so Japan. Which sounds stupid, like the way I couldn’t stop talking about how American everything in America was when I first came there. But it’s like my favourite thing in the world. That regardless of globalization and urbanization and communication the houses are different and the sound of the river is different and the wind is different.
(That’s about all I have to say because I haven’t realised I’m actually here yet, but here are some city gifs)
(Good night)
Friday oct 27th
(Journal entry)
Life is so interesting.
I’ve broken down many times, in many ways.
The autumn of my last year in school, I reached a point – several times – where I physically couldn’t do anything but sit in bed and finally ask for help.
On outreach to Kenya I broke down and then did things anyway.
And while working as a teacher I had to, well, quit working as a teacher because of where it brought me.
I keep walking into walls. Running into them in fact, heart first. I think I should learn to hit them with my shoulders instead, so that I don’t break into a million pieces. But I do also think I’ll be the one to tear them down.
(The most important thing about a person)
From the times I couldn’t undo
couldn’t fix
couldn’t stand up again.
From the times I couldn’t win
but only say
One day
one of us will grow tired
and it won’t be me.
From endless days
endless ways
of searching back:
I love you,
said as easy as breathing.
October (already)
(Yesterday, borrowing my roommates car.)
I’ve had too many days
In these last few days
To write about all of them.
I was thinking about it a few weeks ago, when we went to Walmart in the middle of the night to buy things for a friend’s birthday. That’s crazy! It was an adventure, such a day, such a whole day and night to write about. Maybe I’m too excited, or actually I don’t care if I’m too excited, joy belongs to the people too excited. But then the next day something new happened, and I never did write.
My life feels full of those days lately.
(And that’s good. I document things that are rare.)
4th of July
Or: The inevitability of time
Wow, deep right?
See, we didn’t quite have time to finish our ice cream. I was eating my cookie dough extra chocolate chip caramel chocolate sauce deliciousness while stressing out about not stressing, and then suddenly the sky was dark and we were biking along the road as rain started to fall, fireworks going off in the distance. Violent in comparison to soft lights from the restaurants we passed. It was not bad. It was one of my favourite moments of the whole evening. But as we hopped off and stood next to our bikes the sentence ‘The inevitability of time‘ popped into my head.
We just bike alongside that time. Sing with it. Get rained on, messed up, as it flows by like the wind and grabs our hair and hands with the unforgiveness of a ringing bell. The sound of it is breaking my bones from the inside out. I was just supposed to be here for a short time. Last year was the fourth of july I was supposed to experience. Now it’s no longer just a small window or good perspective into a culture that is not mine, but it’s tradition for me too. There will be another fourth of July, and the sun will sink as a countdown until the fireworks start again, if I die, if I live, if I stop caring. It continually exists. Apart from me. Maybe that’s what I’m saying.
Anyway. It was one of those moments when finding a specific set of words and using them to define the moment, the experience, the lesson, made me feel better, calmer, satisfied with existence because it means I am here, I am growing, I am seeing this moment as being something.
(And is it ever something. My heart sings with it, beats with it, and I am just lost enough)
Wisdom
I wanted to make a ‘thank you’ painting for the school where I worked. I thought flowers, because what you do in a school is basically planting seeds in people and hoping it grows/helping it grow to something good.
Also, let us appreciate technology, where you can edit photos of your paintings and then change your mind before you destroy them in real life (I went with the first background).
And here is the first painting on the theme, that I deemed too weird and stare-y, so I kept it for myself and now brought it to Florida to make people think I’m very fancy and artistic.
Night loves.
Notes Found
somewhere in the dark corners of my phone:
Everything you make me throw up I swallow right back down again, the wisps of sweet poison to the bitter taste of my fingernails, I swallow it down again. Grasping hands clinging to asphalt and tissue and all the atoms they cannot see, second hand looking and eyes eyes eyes on me. I swallow it right back down again (please) I swallow it right back down again.
Pinterest Inspiration as of Lately Pt.7
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