Why?

I have dreams. There are so many opportunities just waiting for me to grab ahold. But what if it’s not the right thing?

Why?

I have God. I think that’s all I need for this moment, and when tomorrow comes I know what to say.

Why?

I forget why we ever fought
and what caused the finish
somedays

I still have feelings of love
or mostly of this hatred of
somedays

I wish that time would but
fall asleep for many, many
somedays

silenceallthissilencewhichisslowlysilencingoursilence.

We need to live, to be alive, to breathe in the red & cloudy skies.
Tell me if I’m breathing, I’m not sure of this feeling, it’s feeling like that feeling I felt some far and distant time, long ago, far away, further in.
There is no mother where there is no son, and we, we are everyone.

openyourheartopenwideandletthisloveopenyourheart.

We are true.
We are false.
We are loved.
We are real.

I’ve never any time to play
it always seems to slip away
or it never really goes by
while I wait here with my level head
for our only try

I’ve been much too busy lately. I’m taking 18 credits, working a strange variety of hours at a handful of jobs, and trying to nurture a few relationships with good friends. As my accounting homework sat before me and I checked my email for the hundredth time to delay the inevitable, I wondered.

Is it worth it? Is everything that I’m doing really worth it?

As the thought passed through my mind, Copeland’s beautiful song, “You Love to Sing” began to grace my ears.

Sing with your head up
with your eyes closed;
not because you love the song,
because you love to sing
because you love to sing, oh

It is often not the song, but the singing, that truly matters. I may have a tough workload this semester, but do I enjoy working involved? If I am miserable and do not enjoy it whatsoever, I should seriously reconsider my path. Despite the obstacles, I believe this is where the LORD wants me right now.

So, I will sing. Not because I love the song; because I love to sing.

Create a better conversation.

Hesitation stops me from settling on one lone statement to guide my entire artistic career, but at the moment this sentence has been revolving around in my mind. Cynicism is simple, and is easy for any artist to embrace and exude in their artwork. Joy is so much more difficult. At least, this is what I’ve found in my personal struggles and discussions with other artists.

This is why I have respect for artists like Adam Young; his lyrics are always positive and his music literally drips with happiness. It’s also why I have respect for artists like Lady Gaga; while I don’t agree with everything she does, she is a skilled artists and has pushed some things to their limit. This is why people like Martin Luther, Gandhi, and Jesus have made such a lasting impact on the world:

They are creating better conversations.

These are the ones who challenge the status quo. These are the ones who are asking the right questions. They are not afraid to get dirt in between their finger nails, or to take a bullet to the chest, or to carry their cross. They are the rebelutionaries of their time. So I challenge you to fight for what you believe in, to speak for the ones who cannot, and;

Create a better conversation.

why don’t you come & dance with me?
we are family;
the worst you’ve ever seen,
so close your eyes! because:
we are the stupid ones
the animals who forgot their nesting place
our entire lives are done.

why don’t you stare into my face?
forget the forbidden taste,
this is the finished race,
unhand your weapons! because:

we are the helpless ones.

we have no home to claim as our own
in a world of endless amusement where everyone
is the silent & stupid ones, you’ve probably known
quite a few people who gave up before it was blown

so close the computer, raise up the telephone
to heaven, and pray that someone is listening.

In May I traveled to Minnesota with the PBU-SIFE presentation team and in June I traveled to India with another PBU-SIFE team. I missed the last week of classes and had a week between finals and India to pack, unpack, and pack again. I think I’m still recovering from jet lag and I just want to sleep, read, and eat.

It’s difficult to find any stability. Home is where you are right now, you’ll find that you belong somehow.

Everyday the news says something new, but it’s nothing new. It means nothing to me. Stocks, celebrities, and everyday occurrences in black-and-white letters. All this information is useless without context. I’m struggling to find my place in the midst of such gluttony. Even these words, what is their worth? I want to create something of value, but it is the consumer that decides if they want to buy what the creator sells.

Slow down, please take a moment, and slow down.
I just need five minutes to process everything.

I have not cried for God knows how long, but my eyes moistened more than once today. Graduation, farewells, coming home to an empty house. I can’t imagine this is how it should be, but it is what it is, or so they say.

I’ve discovered that I suffer from a terrible fear. Fear of loneliness. Fear of love. Fear of never being enough. I am a living paradox. I’m afraid of being alone for my whole life, but I find it so hard to think of committing my days and nights to one person. It’s scary. Can I ever be something that she needs?

This is nothing new, me and you. I’ve walked this floor and I’ve seen your face before; I’m not sure if I want it anymore. I close my eyes for a moment and you return.

I can’t promise to always hold every answer in the palm of my hand. I can’t promise to always have the words for every circumstance. I can’t promise to give you everything, but I can be your man

if you want it.

There are beginnings and there are endings. At this moment, I am in between the two.

I can’t stop thinking about her face sometimes, when the moon is bright and romance fills the air. I can’t help but foster these dreams in my heart of someday overcoming this fear and loving a person who loves me. But this fear is all I’ve ever known, except maybe once or twice I felt as if I could fly.

My wings are made of wax and the sun despises my flight.

This is the end. This is the beginning.

—

Keep your head up.
We’re fine.
Just keep your head up.
I swear we’ll be alright.

—

Perhaps we are simply terrified of losing, so we scream that there is a tomorrow, we surely will not die! We are mortal in every way. I cannot escape my skin.

I’ve been haunted by the same ghosts as my brothers and sisters, yet we claim that it gets better, denying the past, nay! denying the very existence we claim exists.

I believe it can get better. We can be the change.

But I’m scared.

What if we are not the ones? What if these dollar bills are better burnt than spent in our stead? What if all our dreams are nothing more than that?

I can only hope. and I hold on tight, believing.

1. Fill pan with 1″ water.

2. Gather your delicious chocolate chips and coffee beans.

3. Put a double boiler in the pan (make sure the bottom does not touch the water in the pan) and put in your chocolate chips.

4. Heat until the chocolate chips melt.

5. Mix coffee beans into the melted chocolate.

6. Spread on wax paper and stick in freezer for a half hour or so.

7. Enjoy!