Somebody to Love Me

So, I ran into this song tonight, and, I feel like it is the cry of my heart right now. It takes everything I am to confess that. But, my cover song is Break Your Heart by Tao Cruz, while this song contains the cry that no one but the very closest of close friends can see. It is scary to admit. So very scary.

Sometimes the night seems so lonely
When you’re lying there all alone
And tomorrow seems so far away
I don’t wanna live another day this way.

Scared to love someone else
Can’t bear to get hurt again
But my body needs to feel a touch
Someone to come and wake me up.

I just want somebody to love me.
I just need somebody to hold me.
Somebody to love me…

Don’t wanna let life pass me by
Never knowning what its like
To be as real as real can be
To share my life and know my dreams.

I just want somebody to love me.
I just need somebody to hold me.
Somebody to love me…

Cause I’m hurt and I’m scared and I’m lonely
All I want is somebody to want me
Cause I’ve got so much to give.

I just want somebody to love me.
I just need somebody to hold me.
Somebody to love me…

NaNo Novel beginning?

Once upon a time, there was a village, le village de rêves. It was tucked far back in the mountains of California. The Sierra Nevada mountains, when one thinks of them, generally bring about feelings of cold beauty, but in the tiny town, tucked in a small valley in their midst, there was nothing but warmth all year round. Call it a miracle, call it a strange twist of geography, but the angle of the town was situated in such a way that cold winds rarely fell on them, even when the sun was covered over with snow clouds. The town had been settled over 200 years before; before the gold rush, before the civil war, before the revolutionary war. A Frenchman, shortly after his company of explorers first arrived in what would one day become California, had wandered away from his company, and, lost in the cold mountain range, was on the verge of death when he was rescued. No one, to this day, quite knows truly how he was rescued, but he insisted to the day he died that he had seen a fairy – or perhaps an angel – beckoning to him in the distance. Forcing himself to rise from the snow in which he had fallen, he walked toward her, and the closer he got, the warmer he became. Down the mountain she led him, and, just as he reached her, she disappeared. With her disappearance , however, he saw clearly in front of him trees filled with green leaves, growing in green grass. Running toward them, he made his way through the small wood, and came out into a beautiful land, devoid of snow or cold of any kind, running with clear, fresh mountain springs, fields of flowers, and sunshine. le village de rêves he named it, vowing never to leave. And he never did. Plenty of fruit trees, fresh water, soil for gardening, and animals for hunting and warmth abounded in that small village. How then, one might ask, did it become populated by more than just one man? In a story as old as time, the Frenchman heard, the following spring, a cry for help in the mountains. Going as far as the edge of the trees of the village, he looked up into the snowy rocks, and saw a young woman stumbling about. “Here!” He cried, beckoning to her, as had once an angel beckoned to him. Following his voice, the woman turned her head, and beheld both him and the trees. The Frenchman brought the Englishwoman home, warmed her, fed her, and then, with God as witness, married her.

Another Sleepless Night

It is 3 in the morning. I am on sleeping medicine. And I am still wide awake. What makes the difference? It’s not like I get a lot of sleep. Seriously. It’s times like this I really wish I lived someplace other than a dorm room. If I were not in a dorm room, I would get up, make hot chocolate, curl up on a couch, read, pray, watch a movie. . . enjoy some alone time. Instead I sit in my bed, trying desperately to type quietly, thinking about how I have to be up in a few hours to be at work, and wonder about my life.
Last night. . .tonight?. . . I went on a rampage. I informed all my friends of how worthless and stupid I was, cried until I was tired of crying, and then, after finally eating for the first time all day, decided I hated men.
Also, why can’t I write interesting blog posts? Like, seriously, if I am supposed to be a writer, I should be able to write artsy and poetic and interesting blog posts. Instead I go on emotional rampages.
I am tired. My eyes are wondering why they are open. Why, then, I ask them, won’t they tell the rest of my body to sleep?
Also, what is my obsession with sad songs? I adore sad songs. They fulfill my soul. I listen to them and feel so much more at peace. It’s like they express the feelings I have inside that I myself don’t know how to get out. Most of them are about love, though-and its not like I’ve had much experience with that. Maybe God just gives me extra empathy when it comes to things like that. In which case, what am I supposed to do with that? Why am I here, anyway? What is the purpose of my life? People say God has a plan for my life. Why do I feel like I am lost, and yet, at the same time, know I am where I am supposed to be? It doesn’t even make sense.
I am so tired of school. And life, in general. I shouldn’t be tired of life. I should get up and be filled with joy that I am in college, and a senior, and going into an amazing career, and have amazing friends, and a loving family. So why am I tired of life? Obviously I don’t have my priorities straight.
And itunes “genius” function really doesn’t do a very good job. I mean, seriously? Putting “I Told You So” and “Homewrecker” in the same playlist?
I am going to go work on homework.

Frozen Flowers

A man sat in the middle of a forest, in the middle of a garden, in the middle of a bench. Or was it a man? Perhaps it was a boy. He looked very like a lost little boy sitting in the midst of frozen flowers. Funny thing about the first, unexpected frost. If one looks out the window very early the morning of the first frost, he sees all the last flowers, glazed over. One moment they were alive, happy, blooming—one cold wind, and they are encased in a sheet of glassy ice. You can see the beauty and happiness they once were, yet, with the encasing around them, you can no longer touch that beauty—and you know it is only a short matter of time before they die. It is this way with hearts too; most people do not discover that, however, until it is too late. This man, like so many before him, learned this the hard way. He had taken for granted a heart that belonged to him. And now it was too late. She had her heart encased in an ice he couldn’t safely melt, and he was left in a lonely place that was once filled with warmth and love.

Dreams for thought

So, it is 3 AM. I woke up from yet another nightmare about a half hour ago. I have those far too often. This one, however, was particularly bad, and involved me desperately trying to stop my brother from murdering his brother because he blamed him for my father’s death. Not that that is, like, inherently a nightmarish dream. Or is it? I am no longer certain what constitutes a nightmare, I’ve had so many of them. But there was something different about this–it took place in like a horror movie format. As far as I understand, anyway, since I have never seen a horror movie. But the sequence of events, that was supposed to be ultimately followed by the murder, after sufficiently frightening everyone – there was something very dark in the dream. Definitely of a spiritual nature. A half hour later, I still feel frightened, and my heart is heavy, and I am ready to burst into tears at a moments notice. Takes a lot to get me to that point. So, yeah. I went outside and called my brother at 2:30 AM (although it was only 1:30 his time) to make sure that he was okay, and that he wasn’t planning to kill anyone. And, basically, just to hear his voice and be comforted he is still the same brother I know and love.
You know, when we are all grown up, there just isn’t anyone to go to when you have bad dreams. Somehow it feels like you should still have someone you can go to,and curl up in their bed, and tell them about your bad dream, and be comforted. But, no. We face our dreams alone, our nightmares alone, and this cold, cold world alone. Kinda sad, when you think about it. I know God is with us wherever we go–but sometimes I wonder where He is in our dreams. Why do we have nightmares that frighten us out of our wits? And, for the record, I could use a list of comforting Psalms, because every place I found in Psalms was on desolation and destruction,and other than the classic 23, there wasn’t a whole lot comforting I found. Just sayin.

Stoled From Marissa (and hence, Abby)

Are you male or female?
Greensleeves

Describe yourself!
I Will Follow You Into the Dark [Hey, see, I’ll stick with you no matter what . . . ]

What do people feel when they’re around you?
Faithful Friend [I hope so]

Where would you like to be now?
Wish Upon a Star [kinda true]

How do you feel about love?
Whenever You Remember [hmmmm . . . maybe that indicates that when I remember what love does, I know better than to fall in it?]

What’s your life like?
Dance in the Dark [that could be taken so many ways]

What would you wish for if you had only one wish?
Inside Your Heaven [not too bad . . .]

Say something wise.
Find Your Wings [ooooo – I know my new motto!]

If someone says “Is this okay?” You say,
Gethsemane [remember Jesus in the Garden?]

How would you describe yourself?
‘Round the Ole Oak Tree

What do you look for in a guy/girl?
The Mirror (Angel of Music) [are you kidding? I don’t want him to play music]

How do you feel today?
Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) [the my, my, my part is pretty accurate. ]

What is your life’s purpose?
Takin’ Care of Business [ohh, so true]

What is your motto?
Melody [hm]

What do your friends think of you?
I Told You So [uh-oh. Maybe I should listen to them more]

What do you think of your parents?
Happy Together [interesting]

What do you think about very often?
For Once in My Life [this could apply to so many things]

What is 2 + 2?
What Hurts the Most

What do you think of your best friend?
Jesus, Take the Wheel

What do you think of the person you like?
He Ain’t the Leavin’ kind [this would speak to me so much more if I did like someone]

What is your life story?
A Thousand Kisses Deep [uh-oh]

What do you want to be when you grow up?
Buy me a Rose

What do you think of when you see the person you like?
There goes my life [laughing hysterically right now]

What will you dance to at your wedding?
Dream a Dream – Charlotte Church

What will they play at your funeral?
Fifteen – Carrie Underwood [hm.]

What is your hobby/interest?
Southhampton

What is your biggest fear?
Distant Memories

What is your biggest secret?
Good Morning, Heartache

What do you think of your friends?
God Bless the Broken Road [He definitely blessed mine, with friends like these]

I have a new goal in life that I am quite excited about. I discovered, while shopping in Anthropologie the other day, a book called “Novel Destinations” that talked about landmarks that are present in many different class books “from Jane Austen’s Bath to Ernest Hemingway’s Key West.” Well, considering I had recently realized I was having a hard time figuring out what my dreams were anymore, and had decided I needed something specific to strive toward, I made a crazy ambition. I was going to visit every single place in that book. So, when I got back to the dorm, I ordered it, on Amazon, for about a quarter the price Anthro was asking.
Therefore, my new goal, one to fit in between all my other goals, but one that will be super fun to novel about, is to visit every single destination in Novel Destinations! Yay! I feel as though I can go on living. Oh. And apparently there is a wordpress about the book. How ironic.
It is also ironic that, when told to flip open randomly to a place in the book, thereby choosing where to go first, I flipped open to St. Paul, MN. I was not amused. Well. Maybe a little.

http://noveldestinations.wordpress.com/about/