Look Up North

“Cause we never learned to keep our voices down. No, we only learned to shout. So we fight our way in, we fight our way out.” ~Dashboard Confessional

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Our hearts are deciding that the weather is the source of sanity.
A moment suspended in time where getting out of bed is harder than quantum mechanics.
The bed grips us and doesn’t want to let go.
Longing for the sun and longing for a strength to open our eyes today.

A God who has the strength to change this position.
A hope that is carried on the backs of those that have fallen before us.
Equal parts sanity and insecurity determine moods during these days.
Masking the pain we feel with happiness and short sighted  fixes.

Just know to fight.
Fight for your joy, fight for your hope.
Don’t ever let go of the person that God made you to be.
A fight against the wave that comes and knocks you down to your knees.

As one of my favorite songs says, “Everybody gets high, everybody gets low.”
Pick yourself up and know you are worth more than your mind will say.
But remember sometimes it is okay to be alone.
And when those times come don’t go into yourself, look up north.

A prayer for the depressed.
A prayer for the crippling effects of anxiety.
We will fight together; we will win.
Take a hand and raise your fist.
We will win this war.

“Everybody gets high, everybody gets low.” ~Beartooth

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Daily Target Practive

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I believe in a love greater than myself.
One that passes all understanding.
It cuts deep and reveals truth.
It shines a light upon my successes and failures.

A Spirit comes to defend my mind.
A hope that has decided to love me despite my doubts.
It moves through my body and soul.
And guides my words when I am in need.

Anxiety is a way of life.
One that has gripped me for years.
But one that I can overcome,
By the love that gives me peace when my head is fighting.

A glance to the left as I hear a bang.
Target practice on my heart takes place daily.
Love protects it, even when it hurts.
Love is there even when nothing seems to be going right.

So what do we do when the tides are coming to overtake?
When the water floods our supports?
We take heart and rely on Love.
We rely on the truth the Spirit has brought upon our lives.

For peace can come even in the storm.
It brings joy when no joy should be found.
Our supports get rebuilt, and then the sun comes back.
And we pray and thank God for another day.

What is in a Smile?

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There is something going on.
There is a muscle in my cheek that hurts.
I keep on smiling for no apparent reason,
But the problem is that I know exactly why.

My beaming comes and doesn’t end.
A simple hello, a song on the radio.
My head tuning into an emotion that isn’t recognized by my cheeks.
Thank God for the expression spreading across my face; with the hope that it brings.

I’m not used to this feeling.
A sparkle of sunlight hitting the edges of my lips.
Cracking open a smile that spreads to my chest.
Washing away the frost that usually makes its home on my heart.

Because I never learned how to sustain this feeling.
The one that says its okay to be happy.
Always hoping the day would come where I could look for the other side.
Where God shines down and I realize where the truth lies.

I have a  giddy look upon my face.
I look like a child entering into a candy store for the first time.
The colors spreading beyond the inner child.
Exposing the faults that have been lingering for a while now.

A simple phone call.
A text that is unexpected.
I can’t stop smiling.
A simple thought about a certain thing brings on this disease.

A disease that I never wish to be rid of.
One that is brought on by thankfulness.
One that is given through grace, hope, and a simple hello.
“Hey.” Is all that needs to be said.
And I answer that with a muscle that is not used to being used.

There is something going on.
There is a muscle in my cheek that hurts.
I keep on smiling for no apparent reason,
But the problem is that I know exactly why.

And I gotta say, I’m damn sure I never want it to end.

Placemats and Doormats

 

Placemats and Doormats

“The city he wakes up in is never the same. It gets hard to count the days with only stars to lead the way, and in his heart of gold he knows this has to change. ”
~Asking Alexandria

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Placemats and doormats placed before the exits and entrances of experiences.
Feeding to allow more, or feeding to live.
Before we exit do we even enter, or wipe our feet?
Should we take off our shoes, or is it rude to leave them on?

To be present in the situation.
To know that more and more people don’t even consider what the host desires.
Entering into conversations before realizing they are talking to themselves.
And then the crowd goes silent as you realize you are in the wrong house.

Are you sure paying attention is your strong suite?
Is it a hobby that you claim and let it sit by the wayside?
Do you practice what you preach?
Or do you enter into homes and dirty up the placemats eating someone else’s food?

We move forward without taking the time to understand where we are going.
The door mat is squeaky clean because we always forget to wipe our shoes.
An action that comes after hearing half baked truths and eating half baked apple pie.
Getting sick from under cooked  information that said 3 hours on medium and you cooked 1 hour on high.

These experience should be used to teach and to learn.
Yet we only regurgitate information that we heard from our cousins second son’s best friend.
When we decided that doing our own research was just too hard.
A long history of bad choices and taking the easy way out.

But here we are, shoes dirty and still not realizing this house is wrong.
We are never slowing down to listen and belong.
We are forgetting to take action when the information is strong.
And we somehow don’t understand why everything is going, oh so very wrong.

Entropy and Brotherly Love

Instead of showing me the edge of the Earth, I wish to see the edge of reality.
A swirling expanse that develops all of me.
Where time ceases to exist.
And I am one with the Love that created the worlds.

A take on the way we think of creation and life.
A swordsman fighting for his way in the world.
A mirror being held in front of two faces.
And the archer taking a shot at the hearts that determine my failures.

I want more than a modern prophecy.
I want an answer that reflects the steps being made.
A look to my left reveals the condescending nature of man.
While the right shows me nothing more than a failure.

Entropy and brotherly love.
Meshing together, then of course breaking apart.
Divine inspiration being made by fire and sparklers.
Like a Fourth of July introducing depression and relief at the same time.

Take heart young ones.
We look for stars more than moons.
Celestial prisons that say our metaphors end happy.
Someone young at heart is an old soul who loves.
One that knows that they are worth more than what Sally Sue says will come his way.

Instead of showing me the edge of the Earth, I wish to see the edge of reality.
A swirling expanse that develops all of me.
A road that is paved by hopes and of course dreams.
Where time ceases to exist.
And I am one with the Love that created the worlds.

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The More We Learn the Less We Care

We rise and we fall.
We go under; we come back up.
A slow passing of time.
A break neck speed of events.

It never ends.
We keep on going while the clock is clicking.
We keep on moving while it ticks and tocks all day.
It never stops and asks us if we need to rest.

A little smile to the left; a little cry to the right.
Anxiety is behind me, and true love hopefully in front.
But he doesn’t necessarily think it includes him.
But if it does he hopes that it includes a wrist guard.

This time I am going to be kind to time.
For the more we learn the less we care.
The more we care the more we can learn.
As time marches on to more beginnings and endings.

It returns to the earth and ends up crying out.
When time ends and reclaims its former glory.
A semblance of control diminishes,
When we realize it is out of our hands.

At least it helps when you are the only one with headphones on.
Blocking out the noise that fills the air.
Marching forward and not looking back.
Learning as much as I can; trying to care a bit more.

But he tries a little too hard sometimes.
With a reach to the sky; a certain sparkle that’s left his eye.
A sore heart ready for another.
He breathes a bit harder these days.

But I am here with my jacket in my hands.
Ready to jump a little further today.
Maybe this time I will make it into the pool.
But if I don’t at least it was a thrill until the end.

And there he is too afraid to even jump.
Too afraid to learn that going up is the same as going down.
I hope the example is enough to hobble him along.
A little push into the new canon he could bring to his life.

We rise and we fall.
We go under; we come back up.
A slow passing of time.
A break neck speed of events.

We rise and we fall.
We dig a little deeper; we reach a little higher.
A snails speed passing us by.
A bullet train that ends up piercing our hearts.
A goodbye bleeding into hello.
As this clock ticks real slow.

Religious Experience (Fireworks)

“I’m just a manic depressive. Toting around my own crown. I’ve got a positive message. Sometimes I can’t get it out.”  ~Brand New

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A religious experience through and through.
With the words of Brand New.
Jesse is singing, “I’m just a manic depressive.” 
Is the truth being told while I watch the fire overhead?

Fireworks explode.
The colors are shown.
I see the reds, whites, and blues,
But it is a different country that I pursue.

Is my world a contradiction that I call my own?
Or is it a search for a place that I think is my home?
A religious experience that isn’t necessarily one I knew.
The difference is, it is a mix of fireworks and Brand New.

I am looking for a color that is my own.
A game played between shades that I already know.
Experience dictating the feelings in my blood.
Spewing out like the sparks that start off small and spread out above my head.

These fireworks are memorizing the sky.
Sparking imagination.
Turning my eyes toward places that I never saw before.
While this music is playing in my head.

A gun shot is just as loud.
A boom like the fire against this night sky.
I am having a religious experience.
Even though I don’t have anyone’s hand.

“I’m just a manic depressive.” Those are the lyrics the song says.
The night a distraction, filled with lights, emotion, music, and religion.
So many colors light up the sky tonight.
So many memories colliding together.

When the music takes you and the scenery is beautiful.
It fills you up and takes you under its wing.
With a taste of wine and the breaking of the bread.
It is a religious experience that I just had. 

"How can we be ourselves, if we don't know who we are?" ~Jon Foreman