My life is my own

As I’m figuring out life on the cusp of my 25th birthday, I’m fully embracing the idea that life must be lived to the fullest, for yourself and no other person’s supposed happiness or expectations. This being said, I’ve been introduced to several new ways of life after graduating from college and widening my sphere of correlation.

I have held on to this idea of independence for years but I’ve never completely accepted it, I’ve merely resorted to flirting with the attractive idea of doing my own thing.  But, as I’ve grown up more, I’ve come to realize the lies enveloped through the world and the party masks of happiness that parade as spectacular and fiercely independent fun.  These lies are found in completely throwing away the help of family and friends which is something I’m never going to do, not because I am weak, but because I understand that forsaking any help that is offered you is a complete lie.  And any help that allows you to become your own person is the kind of help that everyone deserves, asserting their independence.

On another note, searching for the approval of parental units is not necessarily going to make you as an individual, happy with your life. And as I’m nearing my 25th birthday, this has become increasingly more clear to me and I am not wanting to waste the next 25 years of my life living for other people’s approval. God’s approval is all that matters, and through Christ, we already retain His unending approval. This frees me to only search for my own approval now and I’m not going to allow restriction’s in the form of other people’s judging eyes to set limits on my own happiness.

That’s for sure!


Remember tranquility

Having been on a break from writing, I’ve quickly become restless and impatient, revolving around other art forms to explore my creativity, which has been on display through my drawings, paintings and photography.  However, my fancy camera broke so I’ve been forced to use my phone and Ipod.  I admit, this is better than nothing- but not much.  At all.

I’m trying to find the motivation to write about something but I don’t have any idea about what.  I really want to write out a full article explaining my faith because it doesn’t fit in very well with other Christians in general.  But my argument perfectly fits into the individualized, yet lonely, definition I’ve created for myself.  I look forward to sharing the ideas that ravage my head and heart, wrenching my soul with remembered tranquility.

I have been juggling life on my own for the last year- in rough estimation. Yet, God’s presence remains with me whether wanted or unwanted. It’s strangely comforting with stalkerish quality…

Beauty Is Not.

It is as if my mind were an old, rusted cabinet
pressed with peeling paint and risky shelves,
like a prison for my beliefs.
The compartments complete with miscellaneous debris filling deep-
within the spaces
of each fickle
Presumption.  Promise.  Prayer.
I cannot close this dungeon
as my mind clings to nothing within it
Outlining conceptual beauty complete-
or complete absence thereof.

There is no vacancy in my heart

As I search my heart and all of my wants and needs, I am not able to find any reason as to why I need anyone.  This is a season of voluntary loneliness but something makes me weary of using that terminology since “loneliness” has such a negative connotation to it.  I assure you that my heart feels no discontent effects of loneliness- only a serene break from the clamor of other people.  

And for once, my heart is not left wanting-

No Contact

My words are wanted for dirty, dark-red murder
corroded arteries, cancerous thoughts
Metaphoric martyrdom
Or post-tragic stardom?
As illiterate as this understanding is-
wholly unethical in every anticipated way
why am I so goddamn

without ever tasting blood?

Without you leading me, my own two shaky legs must suffice
At a crossroads and the thought stings me,
which direction do I turn?
With all of three senses-

I can’t distinguish whether I am blindfolded or ear-muffed
Neither matter though.because either way I suspect it,
I’m still,
-Unable to hear you.
-Unable to let you hear me.

And no metaphor will fix this.


Wow, life is on a wild ride and it definitely seems to be looking up from this point forward.  Tomorrow marks my great grandmother’s 90th birthday party and I can’t wait to give her a call and congratulate her for surviving this tumultuous world that long!

My head is like a ping pong ball ricocheting off the wall of one idea and on to another concept and the speed of this lightening ball would singe your eyebrows clean off.  At the moment, I’m considering the job interview I have scheduled for Wednesday at marketing/ sales firm.  On the job training is required so I’m pretty up and up about this opportunity.

Accepting this opportunity also means being more structured with my time and setting aside a good chunk of it for Mellissa Anderson Photography as well as my freelance work… ai yai yai!

On top of all this, I was watching a very interesting interview with the lead vocals of Anberlin, Stephen Christian.  It really resurged my love for them because I agreed 100% with his metaphor, my faith is like my DNA.

On top of all this, I’m also experiencing the world with shaggy bangs, for the first time in my life!  Although it is somewhat unusual how much this excites me, I can’t seem to shake how awesome and sexy I feel.

-ok, enough of my self-glamorizing candor.  I hope this update is serving it’s purpose.

Don’t forget to smile.  Life will be beautiful.

The last few weeks have been a blur of hospital stays for me.  I really need to screw my head on straight and now that I’m officially discharged and freely relaxing in the Starbucks near my apartment, I am breathing in and out with such peace.  I need to start working on what Melissa, my boss, is wanting me to write up for her.  I really need to star focusing on the job I have at hand and not be all paranoid about what my employment will look like in 5 years.

I really need to start writing stories again.  I have been wrapped up in the suffocating efforts of creating a memoir that is much anticipated.

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