unstoppable.

I guess it's a natural, normal thing to feel claustrophobic. But to this degree? It's unreasonable. And I'm starting to worry it's unhealthy.

The more I think about myself (something I don't like to do often), the more I come to realise...that I was never intended to be still.

When I started college at SMU this past August, I was literally quaking with anticipation. I was ready to discover the big city, to get lost in the alleys and the airwaves, to stand on the wide street corners, to feel the traffic drift by. I was ready to be submerged in movement. My desire to be in motion was always conceptual to me; I had never put words to it, or identified it as a love of movement for the sake of motion. I just liked to be doing something with my time.

I have come to realise that I am completely, irrevocably, unfathomably in love with velocity.

It's been gnawing at me for the past few weeks. I have always been a competitive, high-octane person. I was always the first to bite off more than I could chew, then learn how to choke with grace. I never asked for help until I was drowning. It's in my nature to be go-go-going. And until now, I've always balanced it well. There was never a conflict of interests.

But lately, my ability to balance and my desire to move...well, they've been fighting like a married couple.

So much of what I want to do with my life revolves around my personal perspective, how I see the world. My only goal in life is to give of myself, and I don't find it unreasonable at all. My best guess as to why this is suddenly problematic is this:

Because my plans revolve around my perspective, I feel the need to broaden that perspective as much as I make possible. I want to expand it, modify it, supplement it. Travel anywhere, everywhere. Try everything. Meet everyone. Be everything. Be everyone.

Unfortunately, this impatience doesn't bode well for my relationships with people. My desire to continually uproot myself could be detrimental to my ability to connect with people on a deeper level; what's the point of getting involved and invested if you're just going to leave?

It's something I've been mentally chewing on for weeks.

And it's still just a half-masticated thought.

On the one hand, I am in love with movement. I don't care where I'm going, I just need to be moving. I adore walking, cycling, driving, riding buses, riding trains, flying planes. I adore feeling a sense of purpose, reaching a destination, revelling in the suspense of aimless adventure. All I need in life are some wheels, some feet, or some wings. On every level, I connect best with myself, and with God, when I am moving. It's not so much about getting from Point A to Point B; rather, it's about the line in between.

But on the other hand, I am in love with people. All people. I am in love with souls, and individual beauty. The stuff that can't be quantified or put into words. The invisible thread that weaves between us as we form new connections and strengthen old ones. I am intrigued by the thought of seven billion hearts, seven billion minds, seven billion souls. I wake up every morning and fall in love with humanity all over again. My heart breaks, and is healed, and breaks, and is healed, as God reminds me that we are not the sum of our mistakes or our flaws, but rather, the sum of everything it means to be created in His image. I am in love with the inherent value of Creation, and with what that value could be if we put it all together.

I worry that the two loves can't be balanced.

I want deep, personal connections with people. I want to know their stories, passions, hobbies, ideas, opinions, struggles, talents...EVERYTHING. I want to be reminded again and again that we all just want the same two things in life: to love and be loved. I want to be reminded that purity and innocence do still exist, and that courage and honour are not outdated concepts. I want to feel the vibrancy of friendship and affection, and the sincerity of truth and wisdom. I want to remember what it means to be human, and alive.

I just don't know if I can do that, if I live the selfish, ever-moving lifestyle I desperately crave. What good is it to meet the entire global population, but walk away just as alone as you were when you started? I am only human; I can't keep seven billion pen-pals. I can't even keep seven. How can you really connect with so many people on a meaningful level?

I feel like this is what God is challenging me to understand.

I live my life with an underlying sense of urgency. I take advantage of opportunities, I chase the things I am passionate about, and I don't abandon my dreams. I don't change who I am to fit in, I don't say what people want me to say, and I don't stand by and watch pain exist. I have a problem with being told what is and isn't possible.

That being said...I move too fast for myself sometimes. It's like I don't breathe enough. Like my lungs weren't made for so much corrosive living and breathing.

The water here tastes funny, and it takes me back to the dripping faucet in Ataros, the only source of water aside from the river. The grass is unnaturally green, and it takes me back to the English countryside, with its lonely trees and peaceful sheep. The air here is suffocating, and it takes me back to Chicago's open skyscraper maze. I've walked on grass, concrete, cobblestone, sand, dirt, glass, metal.

Cabo is Boston is Chicago is Dallas is Ataros is Bentonville is St. Louis is Leeds is Oxford is Cuautotola is York is London is ME.

I've seen disease, starvation, poverty, under-education, anger, hatred, violence, and loneliness. I've also seen patience, and kindness, and generosity, and sincerity, and truth, and light, and love.

She is you. You are me. I am him. He is her. We are ours.

Do you see and understand my dilemma? Have you ever been in the same place? Lost in transit, but somehow not in transit at all? Forced to reevaluate how fast you really want to be moving through life, and forced to decide where it is that you're going?

I am here, I know who I am, and I am ready! Come on world! Hit me with your best shot!

But no matter how big of a city I live in, my life can still easily feel like a fishbowl. I don't want to be here for four years. I don't want to be here for four DAYS. I want out. I feel like I'm clawing at the walls of my mind, trying to find a way to fling myself back into motion. From someone who's never once taken a physics class:

Everything retains a constant velocity (or a constant state of rest), unless and until it is acted upon by an external force. Newton's First Law of Motion. Inertia. An object in motion stays in motion. It takes all the running you can do to keep in the same place. Alice in Wonderland.

I am in uniform motion. I am acted upon by the societal collegiate requirement to "succeed." I am stuck. My momentum is significantly altered. Newton's Third Law of Motion. The forces of action and reaction are equal and opposite in direction. An unstoppable force meets an immovable object. The Dark Knight.

I am small in the grand scheme of things. So when I get hit, I get hit hard. And it changes everything. My momentum changes completely, depending on if I'm impacted positively or negatively. Newton's Third Law of Motion. If you think you're too small to have an impact, try going to bed with a mosquito. Anita Roddick.

I don't know. I shouldn't be allowed a keyboard when I'm alone late at night. I can't seem to convey the depth of what I feel. The immersion in, and the distance from, humanity. The simultaneous push and pull of personal tidal waves. Does that sound stupid? I feel like it does. Most true inner feelings do.

I can't explain how big and small I feel. My lack of articulation upsets me. I wish I could pull out this piece of my mind and show you what it looks like; I imagine it's a very busy, constantly shifting piece of grey matter, with deep wrinkles from thoughts and memories carved into its surface. My blood must operate at a temperature of 250, because there's no way I'm not the most frictional person who ever existed. Cutting and wedging and shoving and side-stepping and sprinting and passing and changing lanes through life.

My even MORE long-term concern is that this desire to pack up and go at any moment will hurt my potential career and family life.

I've always known that I would work in a field of service to others, whether through a professional or social service job. But I never stopped to consider that to do what I'm planning on doing, I will have to commit to staying still and developing a reputation as someone people can trust. How will I be able to travel, and GO, if I have to settle, and STAY?

And for the first time in a long time, I've found myself wanting a family. A real family. A stable family. It's deeper than the desire to have people to take care of, or to have people who take care of me. It's much more of a desire to belong to something bigger than myself. To be taken from, day after day, yet never feel empty. This is why I love my Father so: because even when I feel like I've given more than I've got, I still feel fulfilled.

That's the beauty of the family I'll never have if I choose to live my life like a world tour. It's a depressing thought, but it's something I supposedly have time to figure out. I have so much potential, a huge gap between who I am and who I could be. If only I could find that magical path to enlightenment, that secret stairway to self-justification.

I can only solve so many problems from a 9-to-5 desk job. I can only learn so much from a handful of people. I can only grow so much from a pot on someone's windowsill.

And I can only live so much from the limitations of my mind.

xx m.

fake.

I wrote this in some spare time between meetings, sitting outside the Student Senate office in Hughes-Trigg. It wasn't written as poetry; I just reformatted it here to keep it interesting. I was really just rambling; you can definitely tell. There is no linearity of thought.

The bottom line is that I miss Arkansas...not the people, but rather, the environment. Arkansas has four fresh seasons; the leaves are changing and falling right now, and I'm missing it for the first time in years. The temperatures there are dropping, and the skies are cloudless. The air is crisp, the animals are busy, and the natural sounds aren't interrupted by sirens and traffic and the giggling of vapid girls.

I miss my home. This nature is not real. SMU feels so small and...frozen in time. I can't really describe it. I just know that this place is not authentic.

And it makes me very, very nervous.

ON "NATURE."

It's inorganic.

Manicured.

That which should never have been tamed has become

a project,

a daily task.

Itemised.

Subsidised.

Compartmentalised.

Every leaf has its assigned place.
Every tree has its roots mapped out into a network of tired labourers,

constantly limited,
thirsty, and
breaking the ground

to survive.

Sometimes even the sunlight tastes pre-packaged.
Little photons designed to maintain a constant feel of permanence.
The temperature is regulated according to the demands of the student body's wardrobe.

The sun rises.

...

The sun sets.

And so every bite-size day melts in your mouth,
and leaves a lingering taste of dissatisfaction.
The flavour of

non-fulfilling,

fat-free,

zero-cal,

zero-carb

"living."

Nature does as it's told,
and it never asks questions
or second-guesses the mandates handed down from them.

The same ones who govern nature are the same ones who exploit it and destroy it.

Natural is unnatural.

Best if used by immediately.

Keep away from small children.

Not intended for individual resale.

We aren't raised by nature anymore; nature is raised by us.

When nature isn't natural enough,
we manufacture it,

make immortal representations,

and bring them into our homes as

sick silk and polyester substitutes.

I hope one day,

The sun makes the choice to sleep in.

I hope one day,

The clouds show up unannounced and uninvited.

Ruin all the dresses and suit jackets.

Gate crash the most attended party in history.
Seven billion guests and counting.
They come kicking in and go sleeping out.

I hope one day,

The trees smash their arms through the red-brick walls that keep them contained.

I hope one day,

Nature is loud and unstoppable;

an absolute riot.

I want to hear

the chaos of life

and the cries of freedom,

and the breaking of barriers.

When we try to engineer nature, nature fights the design.

It's just biding its time...

...for now.

We really shouldn't be surprised when it arrives.
Maybe if we're peaceful and apologetic, we'll catch a break.

And maybe some extra rays.

Surf's up.

But I wouldn't count on it.
Nothing with so much positive energy can be kept still and repressed.

We are

nature,

and we are

very much

alive.

noncommittal.

I have seven drafts in the works right now.
SEVEN.

I have serious commitment issues.
Sorry.

lyrical.

Planning a sick piano beat for this. Rough draft ONLY.

Who cares about the nameless?

Why bother with the faceless?

At the end of the day,

I have my money in the bank.

It isn't my problem.

No, never, no no,

Not my problem.

Should it matter they're infected?

Did I die when they disconnected?

On the other end of the line,

I'm just another kid that tried.

It isn't your problem.

No, never, no no,

Not your problem.

The politician's got beautiful eyes,

And he tells believable lies,

So at the turn of the century,

He can't really blame me.

It isn't his problem.

No, never, no no,

Not his problem.

She saw what loving did to them,

And turned away from what they'd been,

When they told her she was battered,

She took a look and said it didn't matter.

It isn't her problem.

No, never, no no,

Not her problem.

The nameless go silently, the faceless go quietly, the infected die lonely.

And the disconnected don't come back.

The beautiful eyes look away, the beautiful lies let suffering stay.

Love is the only way to put healing on the fast track.

Yours, mine, his, hers,

Bad news we've all heard.

inattentive.

Apparently, I passed a good eight friends on the Boulevard this weekend, and a few around campus since, and I didn't see any of them. I've just been so distracted lately. I get distracted when I'm stressed.

Rough Spots:
1. Well you know, having a friend die from combination cocaine and alcohol poisoning is never a happy situation.
2. Neither is having a pile of homework that you put off until 1 AM on the due date, when you're trying to watch the VMAs and have a deep conversation with your roommate.
3. People should just say mean things about me to me, instead of around me. (or they could not say mean things at all; how's that for an idea?)
4. Rejection all around, from Community Council, to Student Foundation, to an on-campus employer. I've only ever lost an election once, and I've never been rejected from a job. What happened? My resume is gorgeous. At least I wasn't an annoying suck-up like the girl who got the job; if being who I really am costs me a job, well it wasn't a job worth having. I hate competing with people like that.
5. My jeans stained my Sperrys. Srsly. SRSLY. And I got dye on my brand new skirt in bio lab last week. (it washed out, but still, it was quite a scare.) This was just a lovely cherry on top of the pie.

Bright Spots:
1. I got the highest score on our first Spanish quiz: a 90%. This is good, because it's an A...but it's also bad, because it only gets harder from here on out. I thought I knew this language?
2. My English professor thinks I'm witty and hilarious, yet insightful. I just have an opinion on everything, I guess.
3. Semi-Precious Weapons is coming to Dallas next week. I'm down with getting champagne spit all over me again.
4. I'm going to Poland over Christmas break, to visit death camps and the like. I've never been so excited and so disheartened at the same time. These kinds of things...are hard for me to get my heart around.
5. I have friends. I think.

It's just been such a weird time in my little life. I think I know who I am, what I want, what I'm good at...and then it all gets blown to hell, and I'm back at Square One, reevaluating myself again. I hope this uncertainty is the result of my youth, and that my identity will come with age.

Also, it's rather lonely. This is the longest I've been single since I starting dating in freshman year of high school. I know that for the most part, that singleness was by choice, but now that I'm officially putting myself on the market and there are zero contenders...well it kind of sucks to be the reject. I've never felt so insignificant as I do these days, when I'm standing next to gorgeous, tall blondes with gorgeous long legs and perfectly manicured nails.

Whatever. There are big wars fought over small battles; I think I have more important things to worry about than the state of my cuticles. Or at least, I like to tell myself that.

Also, where is God? Lately, it's been quiet. This is totally my fault.

I'm going to go grumble elsewhere, where nobody can read of my irritations and flawed logic. Until then, don't expect an update for a while; my mind is at capacity and I have no time for release.

All my love.

confident.

I spent this past Labour Day weekend at my other home, in Arkansas. I don't know which home is home anymore...SMU or Bentonville? For the first time, school is home. It's a trivial thing.

Anyway.

Life caught up to me here at SMU. In just two weeks, everything I'd worked to build up was broken down and dissected again. You THINK you know yourself, then BAM. Life happens. And you walk away remarkably confused.

I retreated.

That isn't to say I ran away; rather, I left the campus to relax and relearn myself. Reestablish. Rejuvenate. Revive. Resettle. I knew I needed to get away...I just didn't know where to go.

So I went home, back to the only people whose opinions ever meant anything to me; I went home to my parents.

Now, I'm not a fiercely dependent person. I try to be as independent as possible, while still maintaining close mutual ties to the people I love and care about. But for the most part, I can take care of myself. If I need help, I'll ask. If I want an opinion, I'll ask. If I need a favour, I'll ask. But if I don't ask...then I'm doing just fine. I don't usually let myself drown before reaching out.

This weekend, I needed help swimming.

SMU got to me. It got under my clothes, under my skin, into all of my cells. It ate me from the inside out. It was vicious, fast-acting, and intense.

For someone who doesn't go to SMU, let me explain the culture here...or at least, the culture as I've come to understand it:

The girls, as well as the boys, look as though they've been cut out of catalogues. No exaggeration. They are all physically beautiful by design, and they dress to enhance the flawless skin and figures they already have. There is no middle ground. You are either the In or the Out in terms of appearance. And I am, naturally, the Out.

I am not (and have never been) pale, blond, blue-eyed, or perfectly complected. I do not wear designer shoes that cost hundreds, nor do I own a designer handbag (or a purse at all), nor do I wear jewelry from the finest jewelers in the state, nor do I hail from a private school, nor do I drive a luxury vehicle...as do at least 75% of the students here.

That just isn't me. And it never has been. And I never really cared.

But all of a sudden, after two weeks of poorly-concealed cruel remarks made behind my back by the guys, after two weeks of getting the casual once-over and sneer by the girls, after two weeks of feeling put under a microscope...I cared. And I wanted so desperately for that type of Barbie Girl to be me.

The dormant elitist in me came out, and with a vengeance. If there's one thing I hate about myself, it's my desire to be better than everyone, in whatever game/sport/activity we're competing. I get a kick out of destroying someone in competition. However, when it comes to looks and status, I rarely (ahem, never) win the field. And that's the only kind of game people play here. Looks and status.

Thankfully, I felt my vain inner self coming on and had time to prepare; at my parents' suggestion, I went to Arkansas for the extended weekend.

I am reminded again why my parents are my heroes.

Because I don't have to be someone I'm not when I'm around them.
Because I don't have to be on my guard around them.
Because I don't have to flaunt my things or my friends to them.
Because I don't have to justify or affirm my value to them.
Because I'M ALLOWED TO BE ME. Endlessly ME.

My parents love me, and are there for me whenever I need them, for anything. Parents can give a lot to their kids: money, clothes, food, as well as the intangible things, which are worth so much more than those things that can be boxed or contained. Parents should be sources of confidence, reassurance, joy, knowledge, wisdom, patience, empathy, and above all, unconditional love.

My parents are the wellspring of my identity.

I needed that break so badly. I needed to be away from these parasitic people who judge you head-to-toe by what you wear and own. I never really realised what a blessing it was to know who I was and to know that I was safe in the company I kept. If you've got those friends who love you and accept you for who you are...KEEP THEM CLOSE. Because the second you're away and alone, and nobody knows you're name, you're a fresh specimen ripe for judgment and speculation.

They're all so insecure. The richest, prettiest girls are the most insecure. It's the same for the boys. I've never seen so many gorgeous, insecure boys.

The really funny paradox is that the least insecure people seem to be the ones who are rejected. The people I hang out with, if you will. We're the outsiders, but at least we never feel like we're competing with each other. I don't have to wear skirts and heels to impress my guyfriends, and I don't have to wear the latest and greatest to impress my girlfriends.

I decided a lot of things while home. I decided I'm not sorry my parents aren't millionaires. I'm not sorry I'm brown in just about every respect. I'm not sorry I don't waste my money on clothing when there are starving children in Africa and kids in Asia dying from diseases you've gotten cheap vaccines for.

I'm not sorry for having real priorities. And I'm not apologising to anybody for the way I look at myself and the world.

This place has a way of making you feel small. Insignificant. Unimportant. Because no matter what you're made of, there is someone with your best qualities...amplified.

This place almost did it to me. I almost felt like nobody. I almost felt alone. I almost tried to be better, richer, smarter, prettier than I really am. I almost tried to fit in with people who aren't worth fitting in with.

I almost betrayed myself. My opinions, my values, my morality, my worldview, my faith, my heritage, my upbringing, my family, my friends, my core. It was the scariest, heaviest feeling I've experienced since...well, in a long time.

Nobody deserves to feel inadequate. Nobody deserves to be snickered about. Nobody deserves to feel cheap. NOBODY. That is what I believe.

Mothers and fathers can teach you very valuable life lessons. From my parents, I learned to always be true to myself, and to my heart, and to what I believe is right. I was given a strong conscience, a clear perspective on what is (un)important, and a focused idea of what beauty is.

It's hard to love the people who don't love you back, but someone has to do it, and it might as well be me, while I'm on this love rampage. It's difficult, to find the value in someone else when they refuse to acknowledge even the POTENTIAL for value in you. But I think ultimately, it's worth trying. Love for humanity is worth dying for.

My thoughts on this are scattered at best, but I have a lot on my mind. It's a liberating, yet overwhelming thing, to know one's self. I cannot be taken away from, only added to. I just hope that whatever is added makes for my greater good.

I am captivated by my potential, and the potential of others.

It's surprising how many persons go through life without ever recognizing that their feelings toward other people are largely determined by their feelings toward themselves, and if you're not comfortable with yourself, you can't be comfortable with others. -Sydney J. Harris

exhausted.

It's day three of classes. And I'm wiped out. Overexertion? It's completely possible, and even probable.

Today's highlights (this is my noncommittal way of telling the world what's up):

1. aesthetic vs. phonetic syllabication
2. Elizabethan vs. Petrarchan sonnet structure
3. Beef stew and peach cobbler
4. Social cognition
5. Sexual reproduction in fleas (nothing about flea sex turns me on)
6. Inductive inference, why we should let kids die from polio, and the stupidity behind trying to save old people from the swine flu
7. SPECTRUM meeting (kind of like the GSA)
8. Phil Wickham concert
9. SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!!

I am CLEARLY more excited about that last one; this whole college thing is exhausting.

Reader, I hope your life is beautifully simple. And if not simple, then at least not difficult.

Tomorrow's potential highlights:
1. One class, done by 9:30
2. Racquetball with Jake at 1
3. Time to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!!!!!!!!!

The weekend's potential highlights:
1. Ultimate practise on Friday
2. Mandatory Ultimate team meeting on Saturday
3. Arrested Development marathon (TBA)
4. Near-empty campus on Friday/Saturday night due to the mass exodus of kids going to frat parties, clubs, and bars
5. LOADS OF TIME TO DO HOMEWORK and get a little more settled in
6. Checking out the Chi Alpha group church services and small groups

In the meantime...lots of homework. And food, whenever I want it. There are some perks, I guess...

Bed...bed...bed...I can see it from my desk...bed...oh maaaaaan...

zzzzzzzzz

brief.

College is a blast. There's a blog on the way about this. I don't know when, but it's coming. Just gotta find the time.

Chi Alpha cookout tonight. Phil Wickham in concert tomorrow on campus. Meetingsmeetingsmeetings. Classclassclass.

I rest assured that millions of wide-eyed kids have done this exact same thing before me.

Man, I need a nap...

endless.

I feel absolutely infinite.

Like nothing anybody could do or say could possibly bring me down from this rush. This...well I don't think "feeling" really suits it. It's more like...like...

Well I don't know how to describe it.

Plainly, it feels like I could love the foulest, cruelest, meanest person on earth. Like there is nothing in me that could possibly hate or harm anyone.

It's dangerous to admit it, but...

...I feel like I can finally love again. Under any circumstance. Any condition.

I know exactly what brought that on, but it implicates a couple of people, some secrets, and lots of closed-door discussions, and so I'll keep those little stories to myself, but the gist of it is this:

Over the last two weeks, I have encountered more brokenness than I ever expected, from the people I least expected. Old friends, old flames, and even my own family members. It seems like everyone's just hiding under a gloss, so their real selves are hidden and replaced by something strong and pretty, or at least something that doesn't invite speculation.

But in reality...they're wounded. And they've developed clever systems to hide it.

In a way, this ability to love has always been in me. Maybe not manifested, but definitely always there. I've never truly hated anybody, though I have held grudges and resentment and bitterness against those who I felt hurt me. Even that is a thing of the past. I can't remember the last time I really held a fault against someone. Really. It's been a long while.

Looking back, I see that even at my weakest points, I still somehow always had a little extra to give to those who were also hurting. I know where it came from too, but that is a different matter. Ask me about this one in person, and I will show you.

In any case...

I don't understand why people feel like they have to be who they're not. Or watered down versions of who they are.

Having been there myself (on a great many occasions), I can reasonably speculate that it stems from the fear of rejection, or failure. Or even betrayal, I suppose. For girls especially, the fear of judgment.

And I think it's very sad. Sad that people have developed an ability/desire to hurt others. Sometimes it's an accident, sometimes it's pre-meditated.

Regardless, we hurt each other. And after we burn our bridges good and fast, we move on and keep doing the same things to other people...completely unaware (or at least giving the impression) that there is a very confused, broken person still standing on the other side of the ashes.

I don't get it. I just don't. It keeps me up at night. It haunts me everywhere. It dominates my mind, even when I'm in focused conversation. Everything about this gets under my skin. When I see people hurting, it infuriates my heart. I feel the injustice of it, in my deepest being, but I never quite understand the blind rage.

Maybe it perplexes me, that people wear masks, because I finally shed mine. It only took, like, eighteen years, but I did it. And of course, it's a continual process, so I expect I'm not finished yet. I'll let you know in a few decades.

Someone once told me...very recently, actually...that I was a nice girl, behind all the walls.

I think that's what set it off. That small, off-hand remark, and its particular timing in my life. I was never expecting to truly be myself again, and in a moment of what I then-viewed as weakness, I was strong enough to do it. Let down my guard, if only for a moment, and against my better judgment.

That one little comment sparked it all. At first, I reacted like I do...all distraught, huffy puffy, exposed...and I shut down again. But that comment just kept coming back and kicking me in the jaw. For weeks. Constantly.

So I thought about it. Prayed over it. Talked to my closest friends about it.

And I realised...well I realised that there's some strength in weakness. That even when I see myself as vulnerable and exposed, I'm also quite real and honest and alive. Unfortunately, my judgment was not sound enough to handle the shock at the time, and I walked (actually, I ran) away from what could have been (and could possibly still be, if I wasn't such a git) a beautiful friendship, if nothing more or less.

My ability to cope with my own conflicting emotions has been a war, but I'm fighting my battles as earnestly as ever. Maybe someday, someone will love me as much as I love them, and there will be nothing but loyalty, trust, peace, understanding, and affection between us. For now, I am content to love the world at large. God willing, my 'world" will eventually be a specific someone, but I've got so much personal improvement to do before I could possibly commit like that.

Whoa, where is my head at? ADHD. Geez. Sorry. This is another post entirely. My ability to exist in a relationship was utterly decimated, and I'm just barely rebuilding. More on this later. Promise.

Anyway...

I've tried it out, this whole "being open" thing. Mostly, it works. Granted, there will always be people who seek to destroy, to take advantage, and to hurt. But I think I'm reasonably well-prepared. And I'm definitely a hell of a lot smarter than I was when I started this love crusade.

The bottom line is that I love you. I don't know who you are, why you're reading this, or if you even know me. I don't care. I still love you. Because you're you. Because you and me, we still have a lot in common. And I don't care the things you've done, the things you've said, the people you've hurt and healed...it doesn't matter. I'm not keeping count.

I have the beautiful gift of forgiveness. And as of recently, I have the gift of forgiving myself.

I love you. And nothing you could possibly do would make me love you less. I am here for humanity, to be with it and part of it, but not of it. I'm here to spread love and joy and peace, which flows from the Father and through me. That's what I was called to do; it's a purpose I joyfully accept. And so I love you freely and without restraint.

My only hope is that by the end, you will love me, too. Because everyone could use a little more love, don't you think? A little more trust, a little more acceptance, a little more encouragement.

Then we can be beautiful again.

"How big is the universe?"
"Infinite."
"How do you know?"
"I know because all the data indicates it's infinite."
"But it hasn't been proven yet."
"No."
"You haven't seen it?"
"No."
"Then how do you know for sure?"
"I don't. I just believe it."
"It's the same with love."

All my love, Reader.
All my love.

scared.

This is a pretty personal thing to admit in public forum, but it's the truth, and I'm all about that.

It's this reeeeeally deep fear that just set in, like, yesterday morning as I realised:

Holy shit.
College in one week. Seven days.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MYSELF?
And did I really just curse in my head? Bad Melissa.
Hm. I haven't had breakfast yet.
Those strawberries look super delish...

Because really strange things run through my head when I'm hungry and tired.

So yeah. That's the gist of it. I'm terrified. Because I feel like I'm leaving so many loose ends behind, like there are all these knots I didn't untie, puzzles I didn't put together, tasks I didn't finish, people I didn't reconcile with, etc.

I'm not usually haunted by the things I do, but rather the things I DON'T do. It's overwhelming. Like when I miss the chance to sit with that lonely-looking kid at lunch...guilt. When I see someone throw trash on the ground and I walk by...guilt. If I watch someone bearing a heavy weight, and I don't offer to help...guilt.

I dunno if this is a "me" thing or what. It's just built in, I guess. I've always felt this inherent need to help people...even when I myself was drowning. It was like someone else's weakness gave me a reason to be strong.

It's like...if I could turn back time and start over, knowing what I know now, I would. So many relationships I could have saved, so many friendships I could have created, so many lonely kids I could have sat with, pieces of trash I could have picked up, so much emotional baggage I could have helped carry.

I feel like I just wasted my time.

I was so busy trying to please other people that I didn't bother trying to please the One that mattered. I was busy working hard to impress my teachers, getting over-extended to impress colleges, infiltrating social circles to impress other students (hey, this one worked pretty well in the end...I walked away fairly well-networked), and driving myself out of my mind with extra-curriculars to impress my parents.

Let's leave the "blahblahblah to impress boys" aspect out of this, because I royally failed this one. Haha. Aw. Depressed.

So here I am. On the brink of what seems insane. Starting over. Somewhere foreign. Just me, myself, and my dead hypothalamus. Because my sleeping and eating patterns haven't been the same for a couple weeks. Stress does that to me.

I'm just scared. And you know what? ALL I WANT IS A DAMN HUG. Seriously. A hug. That's all I want. I want hugs, everywhere, from everyone. I just want someone to look me in the eye and tell me that I'll be okay, because I've worked hard for this, for years. Because I'm prepared. Because I'm not alone. Because they're there for me.

Man, I need to work on this dependency on other people thing. It's pathetic.

I just hate weakness. And I see this fear as a huge weakness. Like, why can't I be self-sufficient? Why can't I have a little bit of extra faith in myself? Why am I so afraid of people that can't hurt me any more than I let them?

I'm a coward. I act like a lion, but I'm a quivery little mouse under the mane.

More than anything, right now I just want to transfer to the U of A (I know, I know, shut up) so I can be close to my friends, close to what's small and familiar. Because I could flourish here. I already have. This is where I sank my roots in, and now I'm ripping them all out. I guess that was my mistake: getting attached. That's ALWAYS my mistake. When will I learn?

I'm uprooting myself, moving five hours away from friends and home, and diving headfirst into the grossly unfamiliar. Nobody's gonna visit me. Nobody's gonna call me. Nobody's gonna send me mail.

This post needs to end. Before I go say something REALLY important or personal.

Oh, and dear Reader, you can send me post at college at this address:

Melissa Maguire
Southern Methodist University
3140 Dyer Street
P.O. Box 753968
Dallas, TX 75275

I would love you forever and ever if you did. I already do. Just because you read this. You are special.

If you're ever alone, then your heart will know, it can call to mine. I'll be at your side.

m.

P.S. Edamame is lousy when it's only half-thawed and over-salted. This combination of panic and salt is gonna make me sick...

confused.

I guess I'm back at it again. This whole writing thing. Goodness knows that, when armed with flavoured water, no sleep, and strong convictions, I simply will not shut up.

I don't even know how to start this piece. How to go about it.

I could tell you a story, I suppose. Or begin with a quote. Or even write up a thesis statement. But I just don't feel like those would do the trick. I just want to rattle off my thoughts and feelings.

It looks like I'll start from my truest beginning: the heart.

This one is particularly aimed at those in a similar situation as myself, though the overall message is applicable to most everyone. I hope that, no matter who you are, where you are in life, you can take value from between these lines. (and it isn't often that I encourage people to read between the lines)

To put it most bluntly, I move to college in a mere sixteen days. August 18th. 10 o'clock AM.

This in itself is not a serious concern of mine. I have laid out the things I am certainly taking, and have left the remaining items to be sorted at a later date, namely clothing and snack foods.

Possessions aside, there is one thing left to pack, something horribly important that I have yet to figure out how to transport:

Myself.

Have you ever wished that your personality could be boxed? that you could be summed up easily and accurately with a few basic words? that your life's purpose was written clearly, for you to see and know and strive toward? that you could bullet-point or number off your list of priorities and thereby spare yourself the difficulties that come with decision-making?

I find myself in this place...wishing I could be compacted. Made to fit in with little resistance. No awkward angles, no wiggle room, no potential for error.

I don't know who I'm taking to college on August 18th. She has a name, some government-issued numbers, and a lot of potential. She has a few loyal friends, an affinity for success, and a profoundly strong ability to forgive.

But beyond that, I don't know who she is. She's been eighteen years in the making, climbing every ladder she could, making as many friends as enemies, and learning all the material her brain could handle. She's seen and done so much, and yet she lacks clarity and accomplishment.

I wish I were definite. That I could say to someone "I am [positive adjective]" and would never stray from that definition. I wish that I were true, through and through, and that my character could never be called into question by the things I say or do.

And yet, that's all I've done: called myself into question. Repeatedly. Especially this past year, when most of the decisions I made revolved solely around my own selfish quests for gratification and ownership. The couple times when reconciliation became a surprising option, I lied to make someone else feel satisfied...at the expense of my true heart. When I'm selfish, I lose. When I'm selfless, it's in all the wrong ways, and I lose. I just can't seem to win.

I've never hurt more people in my life than I did this year. I've made people my conquests. What do I have to do to win this person or this group over? What do I have to do to alienate myself from him, her, or them? How can I get what I want?

More than I've hurt others (though they might disagree), I have hurt myself. I have taken the very traits and virtues by which I aspire to live...and have used them as firepower. Call it manipulation, call it revenge, call it malice, I don't care. It is what it is. And I invited it, this ugliness, to live in me. I fostered its growth.

This girl that's currently having her life as she knows it bubble-wrapped, boxed, and taped up...she has the potential to be so great. To love fiercely and freely, to heal her heart, and to encourage others to do the same.

But she also has the potential to be cruel. She's proven herself to be a lot of things, most of which are far from noble and pure. She has wide open weaknesses that have destroyed her confidence, self-worth, and belief in grace. She coats her honesty with venom, and seeks to burn bridges once she's crossed them and gotten what she had crossed for.

I'm not the pity-partying type, but I feel sorry for her. And more than I feel sorry for her, I am angry with her.

Because there were times when people told her she couldn't do it...and she listened.
And there were times when people told her she wasn't worth it...and she believed them.

I can easily forgive those who have found themselves in the same places. I can forgive their faults, because I don't see them as weaknesses at all. I know humans are capable of trusting others too much, and that we are all capable of inflicting pain willingly and accidentally.

But I can't seem to forgive myself. I can't reconcile with these thoughts and memories. For others, it's okay. But for me...it's not an excuse; it's a vulnerability. And I never knew how to deal with it properly.

I don't want to pack up my insecurities and fears with me when I leave. Luckily, I am not attending a college where I know people who have watched me struggle. I have the benefit of anonymity, no visible past attached to my present.

My own private blank slate.

Naturally, that scares me. More than I've cared to admit to anyone, really. And loads more than I can convey through my words here. It's like having a small plot of land on which to custom-build your own home. You will either design something strong and magnificent and beautiful, or you will make a mess of things and construct something unsafe and ugly, upon an unstable foundation.

I feel like there are only two ways out:

The first, and the hardest, to be passionately in love with humanity, for all its strengths and weaknesses. To do what I believe the Good Lord put me here to do. To love others more than I love myself (that would be A LOT), and to love Him even above that. To go confidently and faithfully into the darkest places, to lean not on my own understanding and risk failure, to give up everything I ever thought I had to give what I never dreamed I could have, to suffer for the "higher purpose" that transcends the world we've made. And to do it namelessly.

The other, easier thing to do would be to quit. Lay down and let life happen, with or without me actively involved. To sit back and watch, to resign myself to the way things are, to trust that someone else will do it if I won't. This way, I would never expose myself for who I think I really am. I would never have to make that decision. I would never hand anyone a stone to cast at me. Can they really judge you by the things you DON'T do?

So I've got a choice. Just can't get a break.

Congratulations to the strong few that have decided their purpose. Good for you. Glad you figured it out. I think I'll eventually be who I want to be, but for now, I'm not so sure I even know what that looks like.

It feels like everything I thought I chose for myself...I didn't.
Whatever it is I think I am...I'm not.
Anything I thought I was made of...I eventually discovered I wasn't.
Not really.
Not opaquely.
Not solidly.

The weight of the bad choices I made this year is heavy and unyielding. To illustrate it: I sometimes feel like I'm flat on the ground, face-down, with all the weight pressing me into the dirt. I can hardly breathe, let alone get up and move forward. I feel the pebbles just as much as I feel the boulders.

It's choking me. I am suffocating.

I'm leaving in sixteen days, and I don't have space for all of these rocks. It's time to pick and choose what goes with me...and what dies when I leave it behind.

Where am I supposed to keep the darkest parts of myself? When can I start over?

Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm the only person who feels this way. Maybe I'm the only person idiot enough to say it out loud. As much as I mask my vulnerability and cover myself up to look certain and strong, I sure am doing a great job of exposing my fears in public forum. Ruddy inconsistency.

I wrote and delivered a speech, not too terribly long ago, in which I used the quote, "the beginning is always today."

I don't think the full meaning of those words ever truly sank in. It seems impossible, to leave who I've been behind, and walk in with no preconceived notions of self, no airs of certainty, and no cumbersome weight cracking my spine.

What will these people think of me?
What if I say something stupid?
What if I hurt someone's feelings?
What if I make a bad decision that turns people away?
What if they take me for a liar or a hypocrite, when I'm really just confused?

If there is one thing I have decided quite recently (and I mean today...which started yesterday morning, really...), it is to accept love as a part of who I am meant to be. It's the same concept of surrendering to surrender that I keep coming back to in all my writings, all my private journal entries, all my letters that I will leave behind when I die.

Sometimes, it takes more strength to say yes, than it does to say no.

For all the insults and accusations I've hurled, I never once thought it was anyone's fault but my own that I evolved into someone so cold and unsympathetic and wholly unpleasant to be around. Sometimes, I feel like I've deceived those who enjoy my company...because why would anyone want to be around me, especially when they know who I really am and what I am really capable of thinking?

Well, love is a verb. An action. A condition. A process. An evolution. And I've decided to stop sitting by, twiddling my thumbs as the world around me spins recklessly. The fact that there are multiple people that these apologies apply to is a pity, but a reality all the same:

If I hurt you, I'm sorry.
If I used you, I'm sorry.
If I judged you, I'm sorry.

But I never hated you. I hated what you did and said to me, but I never hated you.

I just don't have it in me to hate. To curse, to deconstruct, to insult, to demoralise, to discourage, to lay waste to, to destroy confidence in, to induce panic in, to break the heart of...I can and have done all these things.

But I have never ever hated. And if I truly seek to improve myself, then I never will.

Love is so much easier to pack than hatred, because it exists outside of the body. Where there is suffering, there is grace. Where there is chaos, there is peace. And where there is justice, there is love.

I believe that love transcends humanity. I'd probably chalk this up to my faith in the Creator, and my belief in His love for the Creation, but that's all very complicated and I lack a complete understanding. What I DO know is this:

God is love. And love is an action. Plain and simple. Just the way I like it. It should never be harder than this.

That being said...I have sixteen days to get a decent head start on the woman I want to be. I've put it off long enough, and I've let enough people make decisions for me, dictate what I am made of. Where there is light, there is also a little bit of darkness. My only hope for humanity is that we learn to run in the light, and never pause long enough for the darkness to catch up.

I am the responsible owner of a destructive past, and the proud owner of a constructive future. I commit to developing myself into a fierce lover, and I resolve myself to be strong enough to say no...but also to say yes. I promise myself that I will only take steps forward, and will stop dwelling so ashamedly in the past.

I believe in love.
And I think I finally believe in myself.

"The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change." -Carl Rogers

aggressive.

This is what I wrote online in response to the KFSM news article regarding the criticism made against the formation/actualisation of the Bentonville High School chapter of the Gay-Straight Alliance. I think I got a little trigger happy, especially towards the end, but I think it was well worth the time.



Before I sink my fingers into this discussion, let me state my place:

I represent ONLY MYSELF. Though I am a member of various clubs, both academic and social, my opinions are mine and mine alone.

So here goes...

Firstly, the general purpose of the BHS chapter of the Gay-Straight Alliance is to provide a meeting place for people to openly discuss their sexuality, be it gay, straight, or whatever else. I believe what the GSA is trying to promote is excellent and wholesome: tolerance. We should be teaching our children to be tolerant of ALL differences: race, gender, and yes, sexuality. When we start getting picky with what good values we preach, we build narrow-minded elitists who think their way is the only right way. (this is a BAD thing...and I won't even BEGIN to tap into my extensive years of history lectures)

Patience, but not kindness? Love, but not respect? Tolerance, but only when we deem it deserved? A structure built on such an irresolute foundation cannot last.

Secondly, the GSA is NOT a "conversion group" where student push their orientations down other students' throats. I've been to all the meetings, and not ONCE has ANYBODY even HINTED a "go gay!" comment at me. I am very comfortable with being a straight member of the GSA, and as a straight person, as a HUMAN, I am very pleased to see a group like this exist, where people from different walks can come together and feel safe. Shouldn't we encourage kids, no matter how different and diverse they are, to get along?

We've fought wars over the stupidest, smallest things...we as a generation are working to promote tolerance so those wars don't happen again. This Gay-Straight ALLIANCE is about building bridges, not walls.

Thirdly, it's really sad to see Christians railing against this group and its members. This is the hardest subject to dispute, because it is not my place to judge anyone's faith, or the quality of their relationship with God, but I do feel as though the judgment (on all levels) needs to end. So many quotes run through my mind here, most notably Gandhi's "I love your Christ, but I hate your Christians." What a horrible example we set when we preach love and salvation, but we speak hatred and condemnation.

In Matthew 22:37-40, when the Pharisees asked Jesus what the greatest commandment was, He responded: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbour as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

It does NOT say "love your neighbour as yourself...unless he's gay." It also doesn't say "love your neighbour only as long as he meets your standards of divine perfection." Nobody is perfect, and how dare we as Christians preach the love of Jesus while we spit fire and brimstone at those who aren't walking as "godly" as we are. The Bible teaches that the love of Christ and the salvation that He offers is for EVERYONE. Let's practise what we preach, for once. Enough of this holier-than-thou mentality. The Bible says all sins are the same in God's eyes, so what makes you, a liar/cheater/thief/adulter

er/murderer/etc., any better than a gay? EVERYBODY sins. Iron sharpens iron, so why don't we work TOGETHER to BUILD a more cooperative, UNITED world?

Christ surrounded himself with all types of people; He was slow to judge, and quick to love. Shouldn't we do the same, regardless of our religion? I see more atheists loving on people than Christians sometimes, yet aren't their motives just as justified as ours? Religion has ruined enough relationships; it's time to go back to the basics and embrace each other as fellow human beings. Idealistic, yes, but a worthy cause, no matter what philosophy you identify with.

Fourthly (stepping AWAY from religion...), it is the Constitutional RIGHT of Bentonville High School students to form a club such as the GSA. The Constitution itself, the document on which we build our entire country, says this, in the First Amendment:

"Congress shall make NO LAW respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging THE FREEDOM OF SPEECH, or of the press; or THE RIGHT OF THE PEOPLE PEACEABLY TO ASSEMBLE, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."

The United States Supreme Court voted in 2003 to legalise gay sexual conduct on the grounds that prohibition of such private sexual conduct violated the Constitution and the Equal Protection Clause. We have the right to be gay or straight or bisexual. We also have the right to form a club rallying people of similar interests together. Not everybody in the U.S. is a Christian, and so not everybody is expected to abide by the same moral rulebook. Again, with the law, you can't pick and choose which parts to uphold and which parts to disregard. If you wanna get rid of the GSA, then you have to get rid of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, the Bible Club, the Black Student Union, the Student Teen-Age Republicans, the Young Democrats Club, and shoot, while you're at it, get rid of the Future Farmers of America and the Future Business Leaders of America...all of these are clubs which cater to specific types of people with specific interests. There's a whole wide world out there; we should embrace the variety of life that comes with it.

Fifthly, don't you dare go talking about your taxpayer dollars funding sodomy and immoral sex education. (because I assure you, the GSA preaches no such things) I am 18, I've paid taxes for a while now, and I manage my own money too, so don't get started with the whole "you're not an adult, so you don't know what you're talking about" bit. We are on an even playing field in regards to the validity of our opinions. My opinion is this: I am PROUD to pay my money to a state and a school district that encourages and allows the formation of diverse clubs. Bentonville High School has provided a safe haven for students who repeatedly incur the ridicule of others...who are we to take that away from them, for legal or moral reasons? For once, some kids have a place where they BELONG.

This is our free America. We don't have to meet underground by candlelight; we don't have to deny involvement or risk being shot; we don't have to worry about our lives being threatened because of what we believe in. This is our RIGHT, signed, sealed, and delivered by the Founding Fathers, and I would be hugely honoured to see all Americans abide by it. Our freedom was paid for with blood, and our debt is continually paid for with money. I'm glad my money provides a building where people from all walks are welcome. That is, without a doubt, what I want my future to be invested in.

Sixthly (it's almost over, I promise), a round of applause to the people who made the GSA happen. To the club sponsors, the student founders, and Kim Garrett: what you've done and what you're doing is a wonderful thing. Everything they taught us in grade school about respect and kindness is being held true through the formation of this club. I have never been prouder to attend such a fine institution of higher learning.

Seventhly (I'm getting all emotional, so this is the last point, for sure)...to the adults (and the students) who push against this group and its goals:

There is a bright new world out there. We are the rising leaders, followers, lovers, fighters, producers, and consumers of the future.

In view of all lifestyles, I think it is a fine thing that we may gather, on any level, for any reason, to share our beliefs. WE will be the ones to fix the problems caused by the dictators of generations past. WE are the ones who will inherit the problems of our parents. It is our job and our responsibility to be catalysts for positive change.

It is a wonderful thing, to see students at a young age becoming involved in the issues of our little spinning rock. I simply cannot and will not stand on the side of anybody who tries to prevent this kind of progressive acceptance from happening. It started with race (civil rights), it moved to gender (womens suffrage), and it's moving to sexuality. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel once said "What we learn from history is that we do not learn from history." It's time to erode away our ignorance, in favour of an educated, intelligent, progressive new generation of able-minded and able-bodied students.

Finally, as humans, we possess the remarkable power to significantly impact the life of another human. Unfortunately, we mis-yield our abilities and cause more destruction than creation. Well I have great faith that my generation is working against the scars of history. We've got an awesome future ahead of us, and we will not back down from the challenge that surely comes with reconstructing a badly damaged worldscape.

Well I've spoken MORE than my fair share's worth. Take it or leave it, I guess. And whoever you are, love all.

"I detest what you write, but I would give my life to make it possible for you to continue to write it." -Voltaire