i am not the problem, solution, OR conversation, yet i'm the one left dodging bullets. i am not angry, i am just stunned, and hurt. my intentions were never murky, they were crystal clear. i didn't intend to make anyone angry. i am just left living my life, which is the best i can do. today i officially became one of the unemployed too. give it a few weeks, and it will be a much more desperate thing. as for now, i think i feel okay about it. i still haven't pierced my nose, or permed my hair, but i've taken up an interest in rings.

the snow is beautiful these days. funny thing, it was disgusting last year. i never wanted it, and now i soak in every minute. yesterday we walked to the park in a half-blizzard and made a mess of the new snow. what a good feeling. God is good.

today a man came in with his girlfriend and spoke the weirdest language i ever heard. southpark better never get a hold of it, because it sure worked out well for them..but gawl, it sounded like nazi's trying to sing a kid song. how strange. he criticized the corporation and called everything a fake, but he was just trying to be a brat in front of his girlfriend. they told me she was from holland, which really ruined the fun. he told me he could hook me up with some alcohol when i went to uvsc too, but i guess that's irrelevant because i don't care. she kept telling him to shut up and he walked around with our shirt on for about an hour. they were pretty sympathetic about me getting laid off..with words along the lines of 'those effers' (i'm too ladylike sometimes..)\ and 'shit man'. so was the other man, who tried to explained to me how to get unemployment..forever. and then there was mr. gypsys, who said he could track with me because of a gypsy show on tv.

sometimes i think i'll miss these people everyday.

it all seemed so well-timed

CONFESSION:
i have never been in love. yes, it is a shock. i've had my heart speed up around certain people, and i've stayed awake all night having conversations. but for some reason i don't consider that love like teenage america does. love is so much more, because love is a verb. love is death, in a sense. true love involves dying to yourself every single day. in a true love relationship, the other persons emotional needs are ALWAYS above yours. i think that is so beautiful, and that i am so willing to wait for that. there are so many misconceptions about love. i am finally starting to have my own opinions. i don't believe in the perfect person, because i don't believe in A perfect person. anyone i meet is going to be broken and selfish like i am. that is a fact of life. i don't believe that love will complete me, because it won't. the only time i am complete is in my God, and that is a beautiful thing. until i feel complete in him, a relationship with anyone else will be a disaster. it's a crazy concept, but i believe it, against my better (or worst) judgement even. right now i don't need love because right now i can't give the love i should. maybe one day i will grow up and it will creep up on me. until then, goodbye fake loves. i don't need you, and you definitely don't need me.


in other words (this is how i described it to a friend doubting the very existence of love):

i believe in love because i believe in God. i don't believe that you will always be happy though..because we live in a broken, dying world that longs for something more. i believe that love is a lot harder than just hearts and kisses..i believe it is a continual battle to die to yourself and put other people first. i struggle so much with questioning it too, sometimes, because people are habitually liars and hard to trust. but i believe, and put my faith in the fact that God will work it out in some crazy way...even if it's not the 'perfect' person people promise us..cause they sure do, but no perfect person exists.

and obviously my body could not take this everyday, because my body is about to collapse.

marley ate my Christmas presents. i guess i shouldn't be surprised, but i'm still disappointed. it's worse when the person has already unwrapped it and seen it. getting them a new one seems cheesy, even. but i'll take what i can get.



i miss summer.

three stages of a weekend in progress

Friday:
welcome home stress; i thought you were gone for good. the water feels so good on nerves. the words echoing through the room, as i repeat them, verbatim: you're the hope of all men, you're the marvel of angels. this is what love is. this is what i get to experience for the rest of my life. i am trying to walk, and you are carrying me. stress has moved on to the guest apartment, and it only comes out when i am not trusting. it moves all the way out when i leave the house. i am alone on a stage. the sound is loud, so loud. everything sounds okay, even with four people that are so different. meet the masses and try not to throw up before God and men. prayer in a cold room is always such a beautiful thing. it does wonders for a nervous soul. the lights are low, and the crowd of three becomes a crowd of almost 200 souls. the set is over in record time, and it feels so good to be alive. we are been sanctified, slowly, painfully, but surely, as sure as anything else i have ever seen. one more song, and it feels like a community. amaretto gelato on a freezing night; undeniably God is good. best friends stick around for david bowie, and junk food, and even 2:30 when you just want to sleep.

Saturday:
sleeping in past 9:30 is such a foreign thing. hot chocolate and snow are a welcome addition to the evenson household. the world is so bright, we open the blinds to see it in all of its glory. the world is in need of more commercials, too, so we all head to the church and forget about jerry lewis. here comes the ipod, and caleb's screaming leaves the group unable to breathe, for a good 3 minutes. sometimes best friends really do have to go home, so we drove up to salt lake and said our goodbyes over chipotle. cabela's was close by. we stopped by and saw all of the dead animals on the walls. hundreds of men with flannel shirts that want nothing more than the coveted red rider bb gun of sorts. it's a mystery to me. home is where the heart is, and it's also where you make soup and pasta. life doesn't happen fast enough. the snow keeps people slow, so at 11 there is a knock on the door, and johnny comes in with wendy's for all. frosties and robot love are a good ending to a good day.

Sunday:
and then there was rest. and baseball. and art. and planning for faithwalkers. we baked muffins and stirfry. oldies were always playing in the background. LOST was never too far off from the real thing, if you catch my drift. eh eh.

hello, do you remember me?
i am almost the feedback in your ears that makes you cringe.
i am that vague idea you had yesterday.
i am that cowboy song that you hear on the radio.
i am maybe even the one that you love, but i'm not wishing that on you or on me.

how about the indecisiveness, did you forget about that too?
did you forget that i can't make up my mind?
did you forget that i get stressed out?
did you forgeting that i don't know how i should feel?

i guess you forgot that i didn't want you to remember me, either.



i haven't been able to say the right words for a few weeks, and it's really starting to take its toll.

i just have that digusting feeling inside of me, and i know that it's real when paul says that our soul is in a constant battle. the things i want to do, i don't, and the things i don't want to do, those are the things that i do. i guess i miss the innocence, but not the ignorance, is all. God can still save a wretch like me. that is all i need to hold onto anymore.

and, really, i think i am going through my 'shy away from people' phase. are we all supposed to have those?


i am a stress case.

confession: i am wearing someone else's old nose ring, and that is probably disgusting for a thousand reasons. and really, i just don't know if i am ready to take the leap and stick a real hole through my nose. maybe in a year. and also, tonight i am never going to be in love, because that is a waste of my time and heart.

the latest in a long line of thieves.

none of my thoughts are together enough to write about a single thing.


-i like ani difranco again today. it just happened 6 minutes ago, in correlation with the song manhole. she is such an angry dredlocked girl, but i bet she sits on the couch and eats salsa every now and then, too. she probably even takes off her shoes when she comes inside. and now, i am wondering why i have gone a good year without appreciating her music.

-last night everyone was glitter and high heels, and i was a little less than a barista. it was a nice thing though, because people didn't need pictures of me. anytime you dress important, people think they need to document it for everyone. it's like one of those unwritten laws that we used to make up. i took half of the pictures, so i guess i'm guilty too.

-it's that time of the year again where i really just want to lay in bed everyday. maybe that's why i gain weight in the winter. i just wish it wasn't 30 degrees all the time. that makes me really hard for me to live.

-when did i become the girl that people were nice to? sure, the white stripes were on, and the man DID have a foul mouth, but those were usually factors anyways. i think i'd rather just not talk. i don't believe in messing with hearts and minds and all of that stuff. i am quiet, on the whole.

if you want to act that part for me, i think you should grow up a little bit first. maybe i'll be waiting, but i'm not ready for that. are you, even?

anyways.

these feet have walked all over this town, and they're tired. these eyes have seen eight hours worth of jewelry, and they want to stare into black. these ears are doing pretty good though. dustin kensrue always gives me the chills. his voice is even better than coffee. i may not be able to taste it, but i can feel it tingling in my bones. that's good enough. finally these things are making sense. finally i realize that i am playing music for over one hundred people on friday. the terror of that hasn't sunken in yet, but i figure i'll just settle for nerves instead. finally i don't love boys, just not as much. finally, FINALLY, i am not a little girl anymore.

goodnight, life.

the cocaine, the pills, they weren't ever it. they were more of a means to an end, a habit that was a little more than inconvenient. what she really needed to be cured of was something that rehab didn't fix. you couldn't learn it in 12 steps, and heaven forbid with detox. she was obsessive. she wanted to be in someone elses skin. the picture in the magazine sufficed, because she had learned to take what she could get. hours on end, sitting in front of it. hours in front of the tv, memorizing the lines, hanging on every dripping word. she was drowning in it. this woman etched into her brain. she wanted to be her so bad. it hurt to think sometimes, because each thought should have been more like 'hers'. each look in the mirror was a stab in the heart. so it was completely natural when cocaine came along. at least that was something they could have in common: they screwed up sometimes. it was like they had a common secret, a common goal. getting high, buzzed, whatever, it did nothing for her. she put the powder up her nose just because that is what you do for a person(they'd never met, of course). she learned that the stars came to rehab in her city, in a spa up in the mountains. closer than ever, she became more desperate than ever. SHE WAS THERE. with every fiber of her being, the girl tried to get in trouble. it was such a lonely thing, with her drugs, alone in a park, hoping to be seen. one day, it happened. her family didn't have the money for the rehab, but connections were made, and she was going to the spa. ecstatic was an understatement. nevermind aching debt, she was going to meet her idol. within a few days she was there. her neck was constantly craned, she searched painstakingly, but she could never find who she was looking for. she heard whispers, she saw men in black suits. she would have killed to see her, but she was never around. her heart ached so bad. "I RUINED MYSELF FOR YOU..THIS IS FOR YOU". she woke up screaming so many nights, and everyone assumed it was withdrawals. she was let out finally, more miserable than ever. not one glance of her hero. broken, bleeding, she turned back to the drugs, this time as the end, not the means.

i am alive, quite fully this morning.
there is a boxer puppy laying on my foot, and i am wearing two pairs of socks.

sometimes i don't understand the way that God works. was i ever supposed to, though? for "His ways are higher than my ways, and His thoughts higher than my thoughts". i've seen so many people broken lately. the man that is the absolute EPITOME of joy has a bad seizure. the little girl that follows me around falls off her bunkbed and develops a brain bleed. it scares me sometimes, just as bad as it hurts. my example of joy, love, and peace, the world needs that man. they need the whole man, his speech, his clear thoughts, his ability to function. i need that little girl, to make me smile and laugh and see love. her mom needs her, and the six others, to bring joy in the hardest times. life is such a crazy thing. one minute someone is okay, the next you have that sick feeling in your stomach. sometimes i feel selfish because i need these people. i need them so bad. who am i to question God's will, though? and when they get better, i know that He just wants me to trust him in ALL circumstances. and that is a scary, world-changing concept.

like i was reading today: LOVE THE LORD YOUR GOD WITH ALL YOUR HEART AND WITH ALL YOUR SOUL AND WITH ALL YOUR MIND AND WITH ALL YOUR STRENGTH.
that is life, right there.
All of my heart: all of my affection, my joy, solely for Him. all of my love towards other people. committed, unselfish LOVE.
All of my soul: eternally. all of the depth of my being that i don't even understand, usually.
All of my mind: all of my thoughts about him and his glory. all of my thoughts towards others. all of my thoughts when i am just by myself.
All of my strength: what i do for him. my service, watching kids or playing guitar onstage. all of my time, as i lay down exhausted at night.

if there were a soundtrack to my life, bob dylan's highway 61 revisited would come in right as i was moving to provo, and would probably stay on a loop for a good ten years.

good God, can you still get us home?

today is december 1st, and i was able to walk around outside barefoot. i think that i really like this life.

my sleep isn't a consistent thing anymore. 2 am, 3 am, 5 am, and 6:05 make it hard to sleep. also, whose idea was it to start texting me when everyone else fell asleep? i woke up today with 8 new messages. seriously. my eyes hurt, and i'm pretty sure that i'll never get better, but life is pretty good. i'm not just counting the hours until the next day, or event.

anyways:
"The Christian's describe the Enemy as one 'without whom Nothing is strong'. And Nothing is very strong: strong enough to steal away a man's best years not in sweet sins but in a dreary flickering of the mind over it knows not what and knows not why, in the gratification of curiosities so feeble that the man is only half aware of them, in drumming of fingers and kicking of heels, in whistling tunes that he does not like, or in the long, dim labyrinth of reveries that have not even lust or ambition to give them a relish, but which, once chance association has started them, the creature is too weak and fuddled to shake off" -C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters.