February 11, 2011 § Leave a comment

arghhh!!! @$&}%!!! hatty stop it why is it so easy for you to fall for someone?!?!?! and why is he always always not a christian?!?!?!

duh bc im hungry
and im standing right next to mcdonalds
but i had michelin five starred prime ribs (i can eat meat in the spirit) last night. now mcdonalds looks like
uhhh yeah
mcdonalds
pshhh

things i found from my old journals

February 7, 2011 § Leave a comment

8/26/08
Right before the worst semester of my Cal days

It’s scary — I don’t know how much more I have to be broken. Do I want that? Is that what I’m secretly after? To be broken beyond repair? To be pitied? To be wrecked? To be looked upon with compassion because I don’t have compassion for myself?
Jesus I miss desire. I miss passion. As much as that word has become cliché and thrown around meaninglessly, I know what passion means. I know what it feels like. And I miss you. You: burning fire, consuming fire, jealous fire. Lover. Lover. O lover
God, you give me grace right? I’m going to need all the grace you can give

 

11/18/08
doodling in victoria robinsons es 130ac

God. im being honest with you. because i know you love me. i know i can just tell you whats on my mind my heart. you already know. before i even utter a word before i even groan in my spirit you already know. i love you. i do. if thats the last thing i say with my breath. i love you. i want to love you. and only you. and i want to mean every word when i say that im sorry. im sorry to break you heart by loving, not even, by chasing after others as if i loved them like i do you. the truth is that i cant. im not guinevere. i cant love two at a time. i fool myself when i say that. i can only love you. thats just how it is. you made me that way. im wired that way. i cant love anyone but you. my heart will find itself in you. only in your presence i am safe. complete. perfect. and i can play this game for eternity. however long. but i know now even now that nothing in this world can ever match my hunger. my well. me. the depth of my soul only you know. only you know. and its your pleasure to fill me. its your desire to complete me. its your will to give me the richness of yourself. arent i crying out? arent i crying out to you? all that i am all thats within me everything that im asking for everything around me that look confusing scary overwhelming arent these, all of these, just calling out to you? for i desire life. your love is better than life. your love is truly better than life. and my lips will glorify you. i want more. more. i wont settle for less. i cant, you wont let me. so God yes to more and more

 

2/26/09
High on caffeine @ milano

There’s something between caffeine and me. A chemistry.
Reading about urbanity of sf — damn I love the word. Urbanity. That summarizes everything I love when I think about city — I realize how much I’ve seen heard tasted touched lived, and how much more I have yet to experience. Maybe this is a remnant of my obsession in high school. Maybe not. The hunger feels more hopeful. Yes, I’m not anxious about missing out on life. Before I was afraid that I would waste a moment without fully savoring it; I would sip Starbucks Frappucino ever so slowly, not wanting to miss one flavor, one taste, one second. And it all had to be me. I triedd so hard to push myself and challenge my limits — discover, explore, take in, internalize — because everything had to be mine. I wanted everything
And I know for sure now that I’ve written these words before.

 

summer ‘09
leftovers from bboy poetry

“for mommy daddy and their own mommies and daddies. its possible to live lives you havent lived”
“you can never be apolitical”
“love this one! ‘who wouldn’t get drunk under a dusk like this?’”
“eyes can love what they cant see. More like, because they love, they can see”
“like the sound and the imagery ‘raw red rock in our chests.’ ‘drunk with a borrowed liquor we call time’”
“word choice precious”
“intercessors heart”
“this line makes me smile. super nuanced and everything, like french film”
“dignity on my forehead. mine mine mine”
“yes!!!”
“this is so genuine”
“love every line. the best out of all the ones i read so far- ‘you must not grieve that the world is glimpsed through veils. How else can it be seen’”
“prayer prayer poem is a prayer”

 

6/14/10
in the middle of a night jet lagging from the trip

Take even longer time days wks months yrs decades and centuries and millennia even aeons to uncover the heart of things. Than normal ppl do. Look closer. Harness more. Slow and easy. Im sure theres subtle smaller more nuanced therefore more delicate and precious things waiting if I would only take the time to look. Pay attention to the details of lesser things — more colors textures smells — unlikely things. Pay attention. Sometimes God is found in a grain of sand. So if I would just sit and wait on Him. Let Him dictate my time chart. The calendar. I wont go where Hes not going. I wont go ahead of where we are headed together eventually either. If Gods letting me stay in southeast asia longer I aint complaining. So it is

 

9/26/10
memorial glade 2nd annual free cookies in the sun

Ah this is the good life right? The fat slice of life. The part that makes you salivate wanting more and more enjoying melting going orgasmic at every bite. Knowing what the rest of the pie aint all sun and fun or cookies and hugs. And you are damn right the rest of life don’t look anything like this. Moments like these I remember how hippie and college kid I still am. All doe eyed and dreaming innocent angelic naïve dreams. But maybe because we know life is hard scary oppressive desperate blah blah that this slice is so good. Its about baking cookies meeting new friends enjoying the sun and the son the Father the Spirit. Its about chilling on green grass eating carrot sticks and peanut butter. Its about listening to ukulele common amy winehouse smelling the breeze planning choosuk cooking menu. Its about watching kids walk by use laptops chat on the phone skate across take pictures of famous Berkley monuments. It about journaling in public looking g fab in my short shorts t shirt sun kissed so cal outfit txting the mass waiting for awesomeness. Its about helping out a friend by giving away free cookies for donations letting Holy Spirit speak life provision goodness faithfulness in those three bites. Its about learning the issues of prop 23 campaigning for a city council woman unpaid. Its about testifying with letter flyers sign up sheets explaining why our causes are worthy ones. Its about not working yet starting work in less than two wks having been answered most spectacularly for all my cries of career and financial breakthroughs. Its about making the most of my funemployed days. Yeah its about hella life
Thank you Jesus nothing comes to close to how good you are. You are better than life than wine than sex than any highs Jesus you are better

 

11/15/10
where did this come from? in my studio?

Objective permanence. What babies learn with moms before they can venture into the world fearlessly. Babies cant understand that once their attention is removed the object of their attention — often their mom — stay just the same — often literally in the same place looking exactly the same — as they left. Like a chair for example, the chair in front of you will never cease to be a chair just because you turned your back on it and stopped looking for a few min. it will always be what it is, a chair, the same place you last saw it, in the same condition you last saw it. Your shift in attention to something else a little more fascinating at the moment will not alter the nature of that chair. Such power doesn’t belong to you. You don’t have the right to the truth of that chair. It will stay. Similarly, babies will have to learn that their moms will stay and wait for them as they go crawling to all sorts of shiny troubles that excite their brains. As with humans, something extra like secure attachment and feeling of safety with their moms are needed in order to initiate the healthy separation boundary of babies as individuals and the moms and the rest of the world. I am not my mom. I am a baby. That is a chair. We are all separate and different beings! Joy! But such revelation comes only after a healthy and assured relationship between the mom and the baby. Only then the baby feels secure enough to go away — only for a second of course — from moms arms to suck on a train. The baby will look for the reassuring gaze every now and then. Once they find moms eyes still fast on them, the baby goes back to sucking train or whatever, understanding that the mom person will still be there to suck on later, in the same place in the same position just as they left her moments ago. Objective permanence. Our attention does not dictate the truth of whatever object we have been beholding. As my google friend used to say, skip the second, the cafeteria food will still be there tmrw, just as good as today if not better. So don’t tell me that the chair is abducted by aliens or the mom has vanished into the underground realm or the food is tragically discriminated by their color and unjustly sentenced to death when you weren’t looking. The truth stays. Its us babies who need to recognize that

 

12/2/10
inNout house church soaking time

I know what I have to do Jesus
I’m feeling constipated with prayers fire inside me
My needs arent being met right now and I know that sounds mighty selfish but it is in a sense. What I need is life
I need life I crave life I want to taste it live it breathe it and all that’s in me that knows the taste burns for more
For a sec I thought I was burned out and had nothing to give you anymore. The truth is that I have too much in me that’s not being fed or lived out
Lord I want to travel I want to be free I want to write I want to cook for ppl I want to dance I want to fly I want to live it uppp. Kinda different from the longings of high school when I thought the things I wanted were themselves evil. Now I know it’s only a matter of which direction I’m facing
Jesus you didn’t come so I can live a normal life. I didn’t get born to live a life of normalcy we didn’t
We are meant to see you face to face we are meant to run hard after you we are meant to rule the earth we are

1/18/11
also in the middle of a night. I drank a half can of soda

I still don’t understand what the hell is going on with my writing, like what the point is. I started because God said to just go for what I desire. And I think writing is that outlet — everyone should have one. Life doesn’t mean much if you arent letting things out
The slam last night really made me think about doing poetry. Why not? Why not? Of course there were awesome slamers whove done it before many a time, and there were noobs too. I remember one polish girl who, with trembling hands, read her honest words like she was praying over her grandchildren from dark dark nights of fleeing demons. And she was gorgeous. I thought if she could do it, for no other reason than the pleasure the joy of reading something you’ve written from your heart to the audience who will listen, I want to fureakin DO IT. I also thought about how presence and performance and all of that, for me to me, is intercession. Honestly I can see myself up on the mic, saying stuff ive thought over and over, written over and over, and the way they come out is just like prayer. Poem is a prayer. The voice the tone the inflection the pause the repetition the eyes closed hands moving gestures and pointing emotions faces everything. Its praying. I do spoken word to God with God for God. Hah! Hows that for slam practice

 

2/7/11
30 seconds to mars came up on my pandora kim walker station

A warning to the people, the good and the evil
This is war
To the soldier, the civillian, the martyr, the victim
This is war

A warning to the prophet, the liar, the honest
This is war
To the leader, the pariah, the victim, the messiah
This is war

It’s the moment of truth and the moment to lie
The moment to live and the moment to die
The moment to fight, the moment to fight, to fight, to fight, to fight

To the right
To the left
We will fight to the death
To the edge of the earth
It’s a brave new world
From the last to the first

To the right
To the left
We will fight to the death
To the edge of the earth
It’s a brave new world
It’s a brave new world
It’s a brave new world

I do believe in the light
Raise your hands up to the sky
The fight is done
The war is won
Lift your hands
Towards the sun
Towards the sun
Towards the sun
Towards the sun
The war is won

It’s the moment of truth and the moment to lie
The moment to live and the moment to die
The moment to fight, the moment to fight, to fight, to fight, to fight

To the right
To the left
We will fight to the death
To the edge of the earth
It’s a brave new world
From the last to the first

To the right
To the left
We will fight to the death
To the edge of the earth
It’s a brave new world
It’s a brave new world
It’s a brave new world

A brave new world
The war is won
The war is won
A brave new world

Where Am I?

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