Ten Years Later

This week's topic is a broad one. I am to write about a memory. I thought of a lot of memories over the passed few days but none of them had any real story or meaning to them. Just passing moments of my childhood that have stuck in my mind. I did come up with something tho. I'll see where it takes us.

I was a few days shy of 11 when we arrived home from our home in Central Africa. We had spent almost 5 of the previous 6 or 7 years there and I had it in my head that that was home. I wondered what Canada was like and I was eager to come back but that walled, red dirt compound was my home. My friends were all dark skinned. My life was simple. Sometimes I had to help unload groceries after a long day in town when all I wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep but that was about the extent of my worries. I attended school a few mornings a week and the rest of my days were spent playing ball outside our compoud gate, or driving for hours to spend what felt like a few minutes visiting some friend or friends of friends in distant villages, or drinking tea with and eating brown sugared rice with the night watchman. Oh those blissful evenings sitting out under the stars with our friends or sticking our head out the window to feel the cool evening breeze, singing those Chichewa songs by memory. That's what I remember.

And then we came home. I don't remember much of the coming home prep but suddenly we were home and eventually the newness wore off and I had to learn a new life here is Canada. Where nobody waved because vehicles and white skin weren't a novelty. Where I had to find a place in the group of a few white girls and moany white boys who had spent the last few years of their lives together instead of in far off distant lands where any number of dark skinned children wanted to be your friend. Where second hand clothes were perhaps scorned and a lot of money was spent on new clothes. I remember crying myself to sleep many nights because this just did not feel like home. I wanted to go back to my easy, sunbleached life in the Warm Heart of Africa. I remember waiting for my sisters outside of some stores in the mall, wishing instead for piles of clothes on plastic tarps on the ground to sift through.

Slowly those feelings wore off and I became used to my new life. It's been 10 years since I left one home for the other. I have had more people come into my life and then leave again, taking more pieces of my heart away from me. I have passed those stores that I used to scorn and refuse to go in to and now I wouldn't dain to enter those stores for the opposite reason. I now live a life where there's things go wrong all the time and I realize that I will have had bad days in my childhood days in Malawi, those just aren't the times I remember. Instead I've got the good memories. Giggling with friends with whom I shared only a few common words, singing the starlit evenings away, living my life to its fullest.

Happy

What Makes Me Happy

• What makes me happy? I used to write 'Thankful Lists' once every few weeks. I still get them from my sister sometimes and they themselves make me feel happy. I don't write thankful lists with items like 'my existence in a community where I am loved and accepted for who I am, yet corrected when I have stepped out of line' or 'the balance of natural and man-made creations, resulting in an ease filled life.' I'm not saying my sister does either. Her thankful lists are definitely a lot deeper than mine but they don't sound corny like my examples.

Here I go again. Procrastinating. Elaborating on something that should be simple.

The happy list of my day/week/year/life

•Sewing - the new dresses I cannot leave in my closet til the day of the event they were sewed for, the bookmarks, bags, quilts, shirts, etc. I make with many scraps I have accumulated, my beloved little sewing machine that finally quit a few months ago. I made it work hard for 5 years.

•Long quiet drives. Just me, the road, and my book. Meandering down dark city lanes or lonely gravel roads. Long quiet hours. Just me, my thoughts, my book, wandering down the driveway on a lazy Sunday afternoon or winging dreamily in my hammock.

•2-year-olds who wrap their arms around you, their little hand absentmindedly patting your back, who run to the door when they see your car coming down the driveway and open the door, grinning at you. Who can talk a blue streak without real words. Who get very excited tones in their voice and point their little fingers at the 'mume' (moon) whenever they can see it.

•Deliciousness like cheesecakes and brie with maple bacon and goat cheese and pesto and corn dip and generally anything creamcheesey or just cheesey.

•The time of evening when the sun leaves us for the day and the sky lights up in a different rainbow of colors every evening. And then the stars. The dark. The 'mume'. Give me a small fire, a few people to softly chatter and laugh in the backround, and a sky full of stars and I'm happy. Or the few early hours of an exceedingly warm day and small patch of Rapids to stare and wonder at.

•Playing baseball or volleyball or hockey with my friends. There's competition and encouragement but no real boohing when someone messes up. Sitting around the fire with them, singing, chatting, joking. These are the people who I've grown up with. We've been friends <or frenemies> since we were kids and we know each others' quirks and oddities and we enjoy their presence because of that.

•My two jobs.
    -Mowing lawns for people I only know by how they keep their yards. Dripping with sweat on somedays (feels like +39) and dripping with rain on other days when the clouds unexpectedly decide to open upon us and force us into the trailer for a few minutes. I love being able to spend at least a few of my days outside.
    -The last three days of my week are spent in an office, answering phones and cleaning and doing anything small-business receptionists do. I didn't like the job at first but I have become a lot more comfortable with my coworkers and the aspects of the job and have been given more responsibilities as my abilities have magnified and I am happy to have this job with these people. I have actually sometimes started to look forward to the phone ringing.

• Family time in the form of a 6 hour truck ride, the girls in the back, giggling over things that most of us would just have rolled our eyes at had we not been riding together for a few hours. My sister who made herself at home in our house that used to also be hers and helped herself to my closet for the afternoon cuz she knew I wouldn't care. My other sister who comes from a bit farther and does the same thing, for a bit longer. And the days and evenings I spend yammering to them and they have no other choice but to listen.

Me, Myself, and I

 I've been severely slacking off lately, with posting on this blog. You'd think someone with the audacity to start a blog should actually post something on it. That's the thing about blogs, though. They seem so cool, so elegant. Blogging is what all successful people seem to do. (Or maybe I'm mistaken and they only seem more successful than others because they put their successes out in the open for anyone to read.) Blogging is such a good way to spend time. (Well actually staring at a screen isn't really a good thing for a body, especially one who spends a lot of time staring at a screen at work, never mind in her spare time.) But, oh, that time is sometimes hard to come by and inspiration sometimes seems to have gone AWOL. Even when I had interesting things to write about (read Gallup) I had a hard time finding time and inspiration enough to post something interesting. So much less now, when life seems normal and boring, dull and utterly uninteresting. Ah, well.

I came across a writing challenge the other day, and my first thought was just nothing. I didn't think much of it. This writing challenge was a daily topic about [me] to write about. Oh ya, that looks cool. I'd never have the self control to make time to write like that daily. That's what I thought then. I still think that now actually. I could maybe quickly type a handful of sentences a day and [post them here for you all to read, but they would sound like a story that I had written in Grade 1.

 

 

My Personality

 

I am an introverted person. I do not like meeting new people. I like reading and quietness. I listen to other people talking when I am in big groups and I laugh a lot.

 

By: Me

 

 

 

 See? What does that even tell you about me? Nothing that you didn't already know. Nothing that you wouldn't have figured out about me within 5 minutes of meeting me. Okay so a daily writing challenge is not feasible for me. But I am going to try for a weekly writing challenge. I found the daily writing challenge list again and took down a list of ideas from it to write about. The thing is I'm supposed to be writing about myself all the time. That fact actually intrigues me, though. But I'm afraid it will bore you. But then again, I guess you shouldn’t be reading my blog if you don’t want to hear about me.

 

 

Now. To get to the point. My self assignment for the week is ‘My Personality’ I am not particularly fond of writing about this topic. In my mind, someone else should be writing about me so you would get the real picture of me. Because what I tell you will be what I do and think and feel from the inside, out, whereas what my friends would tell you would be how you would see me in real life. But I guess that is the point. To tell you things about myself that you would not necessarily figure out without me telling you. Or maybe I’ll be too scared of what you will think to tell you all the real stuff so maybe all you’ll get today is what you already know.

 

I started this topic many times. I have many little thoughts written down waiting to be made into sentences and paragraphs. That won’t happen. My thoughts seem so full of color in my head, when I try to put them down on paper the color has dulled a bit. Maybe only a bit, but a noticeable bit to me.  When I try to speak those thoughts,  they come out in stutters and bleak, boring colors. And when I can’t get my thoughts out correctly and people hear what I say and not what I mean it annoys me because I just don’t know how to say what I actually mean. So I guess talking is not one of my favorite things to do. I sometimes wish I liked to talk. I definitely prefer not talking to talking. But sometimes I can get very quiet, like quieter then quiet and that's usually when I'm ticked off for some reason. Or maybe I just feel like being quiet. Sometimes I do not feel like talking so I just do not talk.

 

I like to think I am an organized person. Sometimes I am but sometimes that's a joke. It is true that I have a hard time concentrating on my work if there is a mess around me. I like to think that I don't get stressed out easily but when my surroundings are in upheaval then I do get stressed out. If I need to sew and there are dishes to be done I will be down in the kitchen banging around dishes before I can go sew. (The problem with that scenario is that the words 'sew' and 'need to' rarely happen in the same sentence if that sentence is coming out of my mouth. Usually I replace the word 'need' with 'want') But have a random peak into my room and you will see clothes and bedding and a few papers scattered all over so I'm not sure how that all goes together. That seems to be how my personality is often. Sometimes I am a quiet unassuming person and sometimes I am loud and don't care what people think of me. Sometimes I can skip blithely around without a care in the world and sometimes it seems like the whole world is on my shoulders. Sometimes I make split second decisions, sometimes it takes me a few days to decide what to wear to  a certain engagement. Ok, that last bit is not a good comparison. Sometimes I can make split second decisions, sometimes I can be the most indecisive person in the universe. Sometimes I am loud and obnoxious and stupid and annoy people with my comments and actions, sometimes (actually usually) I take gravel roads instead of highways to avoid the fast paced traffic as I find gravel roads much more idyllic and peaceful and calming to the mind.

 

 I am quite fond of nature. Or shall I say I am quite fond of weather. I guess it's both. Maybe it's the sky. The sky never ceases to amaze me. That's one thing in nature that is visible different from day to day. In climates like ours, plants and even animals change with the changing seasons, but anywhere you go the sky changes every day. Anytime I look up, I see something different and beautiful. The ever moving clouds changing from fluffy white to angry grey, the sky turning darker and darker shades of blue until the sun gives us a splendid grand finale before bidding farewell for the day. But we're not here to talk about nature are we? This is supposed to be about me. Well. Often on rainy days you will see me staring dreamily out the window, or sitting just outside the door where the rain can't reach me. I don't often take the last step out into the rain as I often find that the rain has come at inopportune times. And I'm too practical and unspontaneous enough to throw all caution to the wind and dash out into the torrents that the clouds are pouring out on us.

 

One thing you are finding out is that I am good at procrastinating. Or maybe I'm just good at introductions. Or maybe my introduction told you more about me then the last few paragraphs did. Another thing you have most likely deduced is that I am not one to say things straight. I don't just blurt out exactly how it is and deal with the consequences. I use words like 'sometimes' and 'mostly' and 'usually' and such fill in words to soften what already is not harsh. Another thing that I talked about in a previous post and touched lightly on a few sentences back is my non spontaneity. It bothers me slightly.

 

 Now for the facts before we close. According to the Myers Briggs 16 Personalities Test I am officially INFP, which is deemed 'The Mediator.' The second time I took it apparently I was INTP - The Logician. I am not sure which is more accurate. I cannot find the official link at this moment, to tell you what everything means, but if you read up on the website you can learn a thing or 2 about me. I relate to a lot of what is said about those two previous personality types. If you have more questions, ask me. In another personality test I've done, the one with the four basic temperaments (Sanguine, Choleric, Melancholy, Phlegmatic) I came up with equal parts Sanguine and Phlegmatic. Again I won't go into detail, you'll have to look the words/test up to get more of feel of my personality.

 

 And now I am going to apologize once more. I began writing this post over a week ago. 

 

 Now. How did I do? Would this pass a test you gave about me? How would you describe me differently?

Normal Not Normal

I normally shun normal. I usually shun what everybody else does. I'm not sure how to say it and I'm not sure why I am like that. It’s not like I think that everybody else is wrong. And I'm not one to want to be in the spotlight, especially for being different. But I guess I just like to not be like everyone else. I like to be my own definite person. I get it from my Mom.

So that being said, today I'm going to write about what the whole world is talking about. Yup, you get to hear about the novel corona virus again. I guess by now it is controlling everybody's life so in a way I'm justified because it isn't only what everyone is talking about, it has been our life for the last few weeks and seemingly will be for the next few weeks or even months.

I don't pay much attention to news. That's an understatement. Part of the reason I'm not interested in lots of socializing and small talk is because I have absolutely no clue what's going on in the rest of the world. I prefer to spend my time sewing instead of catching up on the news. So the first I remember about this whole deal is being in Winnipeg with some friends near the end of January and seeing footage of streets of different cities in China with people walking around wearing masks. I heard tidbits here and there from people discussing the news but I didn't think much of it till one week in March when all my co-workers could talk about was the disappearing supply of toilet paper only to reappear on Amazon at a ridiculously high price. By the end of that week I was seriously sick of COVID-19 jokes. That weekend we had the last church service we'd have for awhile. By then, there had been a caution that maybe the older folks should not attend as a precaution. Sunday evening some of us youth were sitting around in a coffee shop and someone wondered if it was ok to joke about the virus any more. He was realizing it was getting serious and all of us agreed. That was the first it really hit home to me that this virus was really affecting the whole world. I don't know when in this timeline the first case hit Manitoba and I don't know when I started keeping up at least a little bit with the news. But both of those happened. As I write this, Manitoba has 194 confirmed cases of COVOD-19. (I started this post a long time ago, obviously)

Life was pretty normal for the next few days. There’s that word ‘normal’ again. And then suddenly church was cancelled a week later. And from there we spiraled down quite quickly. Normal church services have been reduced to a speaker preaching to an almost empty church, a few singers and the rest of us listening from our couches at home. Extracurricular activities have been halted. My work days have been affected slightly, a few weeks I only worked two days instead of three, but we are still considered an essential business as Technology does not submit to Virus. I haven’t found this super hard, staying at home I mean. Although if I don’t get out of the house at least once a day I can go crazy. Six-year-olds and 2-year-olds can do that to a person. Long walks and bike rides and drives and early morning shopping trips are good ways to keep from going too crazy, I’ve found. Following are a few paragraphs of my experience with this pandemic so far.

I’m listing to church. My mind pictures the one family singing, staring out over the sea of empty benches. A handful of people where usually there are over a hundred milling about or listening quietly to the sermon. And here we are. Listening from our own homes, our own couches, in everyday clothes and bare feet. Sure, maybe the first Sunday was novel. We didn’t have to scramble to get lunch in the oven and breakfast eaten and the drive to church driven before 10:00. The second Sunday was ok but by the third Sunday I was definitely ready to go back to church. It doesn’t feel quite right listening from home in our short sleeves and bare feet.  As of today it’s been 6 Sundays.

Since socializing has been prohibited my cousin has made our home his second home. This is a win/win all around as he lives in town and doesn’t have much to do there and we need something (someone) to keep us busy. And it’s never boring when he’s around. Sometimes we go canoeing down the creek and after traversing under a few bridges with only a foot of clearance underneath we disembarked ungracefully into the deep. And trudged dripping wet and cold across a muddy field to warm up in the truck that my dad so wonderfully brought us. Sometimes we waltz into Walmart just before closing time the night before Easter to buy ourselves a nice expensive Ninja blender since our old blender has only been working half for the last few years. Sometimes we head to a local park after driving around making valiant but failed attempts to find potato wedges at the numerous Timmy’s in town and we spend an hour or so acting like kids, rolling down hills and climbing trees and generally making fools of ourselves to anyone watching, nobody was watching. If all else fails and we can’t find anything else interesting to do we head upstairs and play endless rounds of ping pong, trying out left hands and spins and spikes. I’d like to say I’ll be a pro at ping pong when we can start getting together and playing ping pong again but in reality I won’t be.

Near the beginning of this whole staying-at-home, not-being in physical-contact-with-people deal I was chatting with a friend who kinda shares the staying-at-home, not-being-in-physical-contact-with-many-people mentality with me in normal life, I made the comment that I didn’t think I’d get very bored staying at home. I was wrong. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not dying for human contact (meaning other than family) so much that I take a drive in town, or go to the store just to see and talk to people even if they are strangers. There’s no danger of that, although I wouldn’t mind seeing my friends again. Sure I have a device to communicate with them but that doesn’t take the place of actually being with them in really life. My biggest problem has been being at home all day with nothing to do. Actually there’s lots to do. I could cook and clean and sew and take care of kids and do all sorts of things that I ‘don’t have time for’ normally. I do do this stuff. But I get really bored of not having much purpose to life. I feel useless. I’d like to be back in Gallup right now, where I know I’d be doing something to help people other than myself. But soon it will be nice enough to start mowing lawns and working outside and I will be a lot busier.

One evening after two, three weeks of not seeing most of my youth friends, we met for a few minutes on a random parking lot. Not our normal party but it was good to see my friends again. One day after a few trying hours of uselessness I had a brainwave and the next day saw a friend and me driving 3 hours both ways to spend a few hours at another friend’s house. One evening I was slaving over a fire trying to cook up supper and my device heralded me with a message from a friend inviting me over for the evening to sit around a fire. More friends joined us and we spent the evening chilling and being crazy and singing to a soundtrack of rippling water and splashing logs and the natural sounds of the bush. These get-togethers have been spread out over a few weeks, increasing as the virus forecast is slowly looking better and better.

 Simple. That's what life has been the last few weeks.  Blissfully free. No social life to worry about. I know I'm contradicting myself from a few paragraphs up but I wish life could continue like this. More time to read. Long walks in the evening without having to worry about some sort of social event that you are expected to show up to. More time to go 'sploring' on the 'forest' with little kids. Lazy Sunday mornings making delish food for dinner. More time taken to watch sunsets. Normal life is such a social life. I feel like this new normal for these few weeks/months is good for me. As much as I force myself in 'real' or 'normal' life, social drains me.

Excuse the scattered, contradicting thoughts. Mistakes are rampant but I guess that makes it more interesting. I started this post a month ago and I decided it was time to just get it posted. I've found I have more inspiration when sitting at the computer than typing on my phone and I'm going to use that as an excuse. The internet has been down some, this computer can be very stubborn and slow sometimes and often is being used for business purposes by my Dad. So now a lot of this is old news. Boring. Already life is beginning to change and we're becoming more social. Life is becoming normal again. 

But My Legs Are Too Short

I went on a little walk with my small sister a few days ago. She actually acts large for her age (which is 6). Sometimes anyways. On our walk, the question was posed to me 'How far are we going?' When I made known my intention to make the end of the driveway our turning point the answer came fast 'Aww why can't we go farther!' The night was slightly dark and quite dreary. A few drops of moisture were blowing into our faces and her tune changed in a matter of seconds. 'I'm cold. I'm pretty sure my ears are gunna freeze off in 10 minutes. Do we have to go all the way?' I tried a few things to help her warm up a bit and bear the slight cold. In my efforts I suggested a short jog. No sooner had we started when I was being begged to walk again. I made mention that we had barely jogged at all and that it would keep us warm. 'But my legs are short.'

Her legs are short. Are mine? She's a small child who doesn't comprehend consequences. Do I?

I'm on that walk with God. I'm that 6-year-old. My sinful natures tells me that what I want is better than God's way. If I don't want to turn at the corner God has for me I don't have to. It's my choice to make if I want to turn when God tells me to keep going. My ears are cold and I probably know a faster way to get where we are going, or at least somewhere where we can warm up. I know that God's way is truly best, and will take me on the best route to heaven, but in the moment I don't think about how my actions will affect my future. I just want to do what I want right now! It isn't always like this tho. Sometimes the other corners on the path have no appeal to me. And we wall together for awhile. But soon I'm starting to fall behind and God turns around and beckons me to walk faster. 'But God.' I say. 'I'm tired. You're walking to fast and my legs are short!'

Does God ever get exasperated with us? Does he sometimes want to knock some sense into us and say 'Look. If you turn now, if you follow your own road, you are not going to make it to heaven. The path to heaven is the way I'm showing you. Take it or leave it!' and stomp off down the road leaving us to fend for ourselves? He has never done that to me. When I do choose my own way and come back shamefully awhile later, he smiles at me and forgives me and we continue on. When my legs are too short, my ears are too cold, he slows down, gives me a toque and we continue on. 'Sweet is the tender love Jesus hath shown, sweeter far than any love that mortals have knows; kind to the erring one, faithful is He...Where he leads I'll follow. Follow Jesus everyday.'

 

(Updated October 6, 2020)

Making Joyful Noises

Do you feel power in words? When you sang 'Joy to the World' so many times at Christmas, did you feel the song as you sang about the glories of his righteousness and wonders of his love? Or when you sing in church or to the many old people you go out to, do you listen to how the melody compliments the lyrics and suddenly you aren't just singing anymore. 'He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock' and 'Blessed assurance Jesus is mine. Oh what a foretaste of heaven devine' become strong and real instead of just words trying to describe indescribable feelings and wonders.
Songs are a wonder to me. They take the seperate abilities of our vocal cords and minds, and mold them together and you've got something beautiful. And these songs in turn, stir hearts. But the key to stirring hearts with song is in the mixing. If you just think about the words while your singing, then you start judging the songwriter for how he uses grammar and punctuation. If you listen solely to the music, the words are meaningless and to you and your heart is not in the song and people around you can realize that. But when you thoroughly mix the words and the music, you are usually presented with an object that your heart can hear and your mind can feel. The softly sung words of a slow, thought-provoking song, tugging at your heart and making you cry for unknown or obscure reasons. Or the rousing, uplifting tune with joyful words and news that makes you want to sing it louder and louder until the whole world has lost its sadness and joined in.
Sometimes tho, the music is choppy. The timing is slightly stressful and takes a bit of effort to manage, voices cut in and out here or there, and besides that the words are weird. I don't know anything about writing songs so don't ask me for advice. But I've found that most old familiar songs aren't super stressful and choppy. Perhaps that is why they are old familiars. Of late I've been taking note of the words we sing in church, at youth, wherever. I've sung them for many years, but only in the passed year or so have I really begun to realize what they say. And it's amazing what they have to tell me. I used to want to sing new songs all the time because I was bored of the old tunes. I still do, of course, but now I love singing (most) old songs as well. The songs I mentioned in the first paragraph are but a fraction of the touching songs we sing.
Our voices strengthen in the last stanza of an Easter song-  'Hallelujah' and then we quiet down as we sing with awe and wonder 'What a Savior.'
'It is well with my soul.' The first stanza of the chorus is sung a bit quietly as the baritones of the men's voices have not joined us yet. We repeat it once, twice altogether to complete the rest of the chorus and by repeating it we start to wonder at the words. By the end of the crescendo, everybody has determined that it is well with their soul, or it will be soon.
'I took a long long walk by the river. Had a quiet peaceful talk with my Lord' This old song is a personal favorite. Perhaps due to the fact that we sung it a lot with the kids in Gallup and you would frequently hear them singing it while playing thruout the day. Perhaps it's also due to the promises it gives us. 'My Jesus has broad shoulders. His back is stronger than mine. He was there the first time I called him. He'll be there any place any time.' The slow timing and the medium range that doesn't hop around drastically lends a solemn, thoughtful air to the song while the well-placed rest ensures that we stop and think about what we are singing to ourselves.
 'Oh Lord when I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds thy hands have made.' This song, too, is one of my favorites. It's a simple praise song, that some how takes unusualish words like 'lofty mountain grandeur' and 'scarce' and 'acclimation' and combines them with a tune to create a piece of timeless music. It is best sung under the stars, around a fire, out on a hike thru some great red rocks, or whenever you are in the great out doors and can see the nature God created and you can truly, in awesome wonder, proclaim 'How great Thou art.'
There are many more I could mention. 'Oh how I love Jesus' was once upon a time, maybe even still is, my Grandma's favorite song. I haven't heard her sing it for awhile but I can hear her in my head 'There is a name I live to hear.. It tells of One whose loving heart can feel my deepest woe.' 'The solid rock' becomes a lot more precious when you hear it sung by memory by littlw 4 and 5- year-olds who don't really know what they are singing but they're repeating what they hear from family and in church. 'Sitting at the feet of Jesus' and 'Behold what love' and 'Savious breath and evening blessing' and 'He comes to bless my soul. All these songs are much more than pretty tunes. Take a Christian Hymnal or another old songbook sometime and listen to the words as you sing the songs. You'll start putting more feeling into the song when you're really listening to the words and letting yourself react to them.
Try one more thing. Sometime when you sit in church, stop singing and just listen. Listen as the hundred or so people blend their voices, singing the words in perfect unison. You might just hear the words first. Maybe just the songleader or the enthusiastic soprano behind you. Keep listening. Close your eyes. Soon the harmony will start to blend in. You'll hear high and low. You'll hear the music and you'll hear the words. You'll hear everything. And it will be hard not to join in.

Ah yes my friends. My thoughts are slightly scattered and this post is not fluid. The time is galloping toward midnight and sleep is nigh unto me with daylight on its heels. I must take my leave and let your mind take over where my words left off.

One thing

What's one thing that you don't care to have lots of people know about you?

I was going to say that I don't like to share my emotions. Even when something super happy or super sad happens I try to keep my feelings from showing. Keep them from showing in the usual way that is. I'll display them cryptically in a way that I might think is obvious but most other people do not catch on to. But this didn't answer my question really how I meant it.

One fact that I don't share with very many people is that I live in my head a lot. If life was like the daydreams I can dream up it would be quite amazing. Which is why sometimes I get upset at life because it is not often super amazing. It's often dull and mundane and can be downright ornery at times. And sometimes I get a little bit mad at people because of the same thing.
I also have trouble just living in the moment. One of my friends made the comment that extroverted people are generally happier then introverted people. Well yes I do believe this is correct from the extroverted side of it. And even I consent that it's somewhat true. Because people who are extroverted and even a lot of introverts live in the moment and have grand times. My head usually skips to the next moment. I wonder what is going to happen and whether it will be fun. The moments are whispering by unnoticed by me and I could be having fun but I keep thinking about the next one and what will happen with it. On the other side of it tho, sad is happy for deep people. I don't know how to explain that one but I know what it means to me.


What is one thing about you that you don't really care to have people know?

Did writing this and sending it out to the world actually help me in any way? I don't know. Now y'all know a bit more about me and why I act the way I do. And that is actually kinda freaky. Very freaky.

Be careful.