what the folk? just do it. now.

I have nothing to say, create, and paint.
I feel as if my thought and body is empty.


Starting tomorrow.
No, starting today I will write everyday for a while. I need my thoughts to start flowing like the red sea.
They stopped. The sea drained.
I will search deep and pull out a flood from this drought.
I will pull out the only droplet left in me.
From that droplet, a river will flow.

I will write a song.
write a song
write a song
write a song.

I will search and find someone to teach me a the cello.

I will feel whole in my soul. I will love the Lord for me. I will not love Him because others do.
I will start to walk with both my feet instead of searching for the other foot.

I'm speaking life. I've been feeling pathetic, hopeless, insecure, defeated, and dry.
I'm done with that. Leavin' that alone.

I will run and feel strong.

My body is a temple, and my mind a roaring lion.

Stealin' blogs. Stealin' money.

There's a race of men that don't fit in,
A race that can't stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
... And they climb the mountain's crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don't know how to rest.

If they just went straight they might go far;
They are strong and brave and true;
But they're always tired of the things that are,
And they want the strange and new.

_Robert Service

There's a circle

I go through phases where I'm all into reading, writing, eating healthier, running, wearing my retainer, brushing my teeth(at night), taking off my massacre, and washing my face.
It comes and goes.
I'm currently living in the central area.
And it feels pretty good.

I know these things are good for me. I need to memorize this pattern and ink it to my soul.

BecauseI'macynicalmothereffer

Then God asked them, "Why do you love me?"
The church folks stood silent scratching their heads.

Let us examine our inner souls, and know why we serve You.
Let us be pure in our praise and our love for you.
Let our mouths exhale honesty.
Let us know why we do what we do...and believe what we believe.

Even before I graduated.

High schoolers and junior high kids annoy the cuss out of me.

<>>>>

My heart was a strong steel bridge.
Then this bridge exploded in my chest.
My body felt it.
Latched bolts blew up.
Every tight screw was loosen and flew away.

Self-lovin kind of love

Loving someone because they believe the same thing as you, is not really love.

Earlier this morning, I was thinking about a dear friend and then a story played out.

Me and my friend hadn't seen one another in years
We are reunited
This person now does not believe in God.
Do I love her/him?
Or am I infatuated with people who believe the same core beliefs as I do?

Do I love this person for who they are?
Or how much we connect on certain issues?

If so, my love isn't pure, but a selfish kind of love.

Truths and lies

Finding out the truth about outserves is a painful process.

There once was a girl.
She was beauty from every angle.

One day
She accidentally ran into a knife.
This knife cut through every sensitive layer of her skin.

Then
The townspeople, who were around when the accident took place, saw her insides.
She didn't have bold beautifully colored red blood.
She had
darkness
evilness
and wickedness oozing out of her.
"It was the most disturbing thing I've ever seen."
-
said a local.

God scares me sometimes.

I went to a small group last night
As I sat there with my legs in an indian style and my thoughts guarded, the other girls talked about how happy they will be in Heaven. When they get to be in God's presence.
The whole time I had one thought floating in my head, like a balloon leaving a toddler's sweaty hand and going up into the sky.
The thought: I will be afraid.
These girls' faces expressed happiness.
I kept thinking how I would be too afraid to speak. Not too much in awe. Too scared.

I
d
o
n
'
t
w
a
n
t
to be afraid of You.

Philo

T h e more I know the Lord,
the more I know myself.
T h e more I know myself,
the more I can love other people like myself.
T h e more I can love other people,
the more life makes sense.

Let's be young.

I've been wanting to write a song for a few years now.
Really I've been wanting to write a worship song.
I can't seem to do it.
I've google it and nothing helps.
I will though. My goal is to write fifteen worship songs before I hit the grave.
I guess I should start soon.
However, I started typing on my phone because I was inspired when I found out that three of my friends left town at midnight and drove to a beach in Gulf Port and made it back in time for class. I love people who breathe spontaneity.

These are my four lines:
Oh, we can't get rid of that young blood
Daughter of a gypsy
Son of hippie
Children of the open road

I want it to be folkish and very fun.
Let's elaborate mofo.

Riding.

The highways are filled with mini vans and sleepy kids.
It's the time where all the families are on their way to vacation.
As each car passes, the little children glance at the other little children.
They are so excited they can't sleep.
They are too sleepy to show their excitement.
It is in the early am.
Each mini van passes by.

OneDayOutOfTheYear.

There is one day out of the year, that honesty lives and parties.
On this day
we listen
we speak
we hurt
we reveal
we understand
and we are shocked.

This day is feared by many
However, at the very end of the day liberation fills the people's bones.

When the clock hits time for a new day, ink covers our skin.
This ink exposes our secrets and real opinions.
It tells what we are, think, and do.
We are covered in our shame with no one to blame.

When clock is about to strike a new day, we are a community of honesty and freedom.
This is a day that happens once a year.

Crowds in Opera House

I sit here today typing and then backspacing.
I wish to say something meaningful
I wish to say something to offer you a new perspective
to offer you hope
to offer you something that holds any amount of significance, whether it be big or small as long as there is something in it.

However, I feel like I have nothing to say.
I am not depressed.

I keep asking myself why I haven't written in months.
The answer blank is left empty.
I have time. So, that beautiful excuse of "being busy" does not fly.

Perhaps, I feel that if I am going to say anything on here it must be something worth reading.
Maybe I read over my writings too many times and I am embarrassed of how vulnerable I can be.

... Maybe I am just writing for an audience, and that is the reason I don't.
I want to write for me, and if anyone sees it- may it be by accident.
I don't want listeners in my mind. I don't want human's thoughts of me to be in my mind.

I want to be selfish and write for my soul, not for you.
I don't want to be a show.
I don't want to be a show.

By you. I mean all.

There is a real reason.
I want to find it.

Years later,
Reefheadjoi

Lost in transition.

I just want to write write write, and type type type.

Be honest.
Identify your insecurities.
And just own your insecurities.

My sister has the best advice.

Now, I will go and look into my soul and pull out stuff that has been in there.

bum nun.

Well, I haven't really been blogging in a while.
And I was thinking why I haven't.
The answer: Uninspired.
I have things I've been wanting to post.
However
,
I just don't even feel like it.
Uninspired and lazy.

SO
I am going to post some fashion/trendy photos. OMG.

While laying in bed one night, I thought to myself, " I need to shower."
T H e n
I realized it was wed and I hadn't showered in 747 days.

I am going to be a brat.

While laying in bed the night we got back, my soul cried what my eyes couldn't

And all these thoughts rushed in my head like an ocean in the Pacific.

I don't want to wake up and go to school, I want to wake up and go sing around the fire.
I don't want to smile at strangers, I want to say, "welcome home" "loving you"
I don't want to go to church with perfect Christians, I want to go with the divorcees
I don't want to go to bed to the box fan, I want to go to sleep to the wind and people's voices
I don't want to eat greasy food, I want to eat the grains.
I don't want to sleep in a comfy bed, I want to sleep in a sleeping bag.
I don't want to meet people who grew up here, I want to meet people who grew up there.
I don't want Jesus to fit inside this perfectly cut box, I want him to crush it.
I don't want to sweat, I want goosebumps.
I don't want to hear peoples words, I want to see them.
I don't want my hands to touch these keys, I want them to touch the firewood.
I don't want to see clean hair, I want to see dreads.
I don't want see the street lights, I want to see the stars.
I don't want to shit in a toilet, I want to shit in the shitter.
I don't want my mind to shrink up, I want it to explode.
I don't want to talk about people, I want to be with them.
I don't want to buy, I want to trade.
I don't want to give someone a high five, I want to give the peace sign.
I don't want to live on facebook, I want to punch that book in the face.
I don't want to live for the weekend, I want to live for the second.
I don't want to hear this music through a speaker, I want to hear it in front of me.
I don't want this to be normal, I want that to be normal.

I am nothing. You are nothing. We are nothing.

My good works are not mine.
Everything that seems honarable does not belong to me.
Possessive words should not exist in our dictionary.

I am nothing.
I am nothing but someone quoting someone else.
The words do not belong to me.
The actions do not belong to me.


The Lord is the one who is speaking and doing.
All I do is merely try to copy.
Very infrequently succeed.
And
if
There is a small glimpse that I resemble him.
I still do not own it.
I do not deserve the credit.
For I am not even a tool.
But a speck of dirt in the finger nail of the one who is holding the tool.


These hands serve but only because your love is pushing them.

Dam those who believe that are more.
And steal the glory from the one who is the founder of glory.

Let us wear humlitiy like a dress aunt henny wanted us to wear on Sunday.
With that horrid fit and awful colours.

Take me back where I should be.

Cali was the bomb.com.
I loved it.
Jonna is my fav.
The market is cool.
Eaton Canyon is beautiful.
Fuller is tight.


So Michael's is opening right next to Hobby Lobby. My drawing teacher says, " I can't wait to see the fights between the moms who have nothing to do with their lives except scrapbook. Someone isn't going to make it."

Blarin' in pain my nostrils yelled.

Due to lack of sleep in the last 3 days
Due to my dad being wild and literally pulling the tube under a bush causing me to quickly dunk my face in the water. There were three of us on the tube so I have no where else to hide myself. As I ducked my head to save my life, my nose inhaled the whole bayou.
I woke up with the feeling that someone is constantly pinching my nose(in the middle).
Today I had to shoot meds up my nose(Cocaine). Oh, and gargle with salt water. FUN.FUN.FUN
My nose has been running as if a fountain lives inside of it.
Now raw.
Here's the results:

I am.

There's a city in my soul.
I have very many different levels.
I have very many different departments
I have very many different compartments.
I am Multi.

An onion is too thin for my description. The layers are too flimsy to handle the depth. I am a million different things. I am a combination of these things. I am a city.

Everything that I like is merely the glass windows.
All my passions are just the sidewalks.
My love is only the ocean.
There is more following.
Behind the layers of skin, sits this city.

the inspection team.

And when the realization entered my mind, I hired the inspection team.
Every time I wanted to yell at someone, they would search me.
Every time I wanted to eat out of sadness, they would search me.
Every time I wouldn't finish what I started, they would search me.
Every time I got jealous of every pretty person, they would search me.
Every time little things became big things, they would search me.
Every time my face break out, they would search me.
Every time my jaw would pop, they would search me.

They would look deep inside me.
Fully examine my soul.
Study it through&through.

They would open doors that had big wooden boars in the shape of a 'x' on it so nothing could open it.
They would painfully pull back each board and with all their weight pull until the rusty strong door opened.
They would enter.
They would find hidden basements.
They would find dark secrets.
They would expose&open things that had been closed for many days&trillions of seconds.
And with every painful opening, came honest understanding.

With all my disgust, selfishness, lust, lies, guilt, disappointment, shame, anger, bitterness, failures, embarrassment, insecurities, and ugliness neatly laid out on the kitchen table.
I was naked, completely bare.
The inside of my dark dark soul utterly revealed.
I was a monster.
And they loved me.
The called me their beloved.

You're going to hell.

You're going to hell if you drink.
You're going to hell if you smoke.
You're going to hell if you watch rated R movies.
You're going to hell if you have premarital sex.
You're going to hell if you don't come to my youth group.
You're going to hell if you don't believe exactly what I believe.
You're going to hell if you wear short shorts.
You're going to hell if you don't believe in fire.
You're going to hell if you don't raise your hands.
You're going to hell if...


I was going to explain myself since I am currently aware that people actually read this thing but I really don't give a hell for explanations right now. For they never introduced themselves to me. It is how it is.

21 Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:

22 Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
23 They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
24 I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”

25 The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;

...

I am currently unmotivated.
I do not want to do anything.
Something is going on in my soul.
Perhaps, a war.


Something needs to happen.
Soon.

OH

I
want
to
learn
how
to
screen
print
so
freakin'
bad.

The boy named Jake Germ.

Once upon a time in a land far far away there lived a boy. This boy's name was Jake Germany. In this land, the grass was black and white. Bright colors never visited this town; even faded colors were rarely seen. This town was never lively. Everything was repetition. Jake hated this about the town. Jake always wanted an adventure but everyone was never interested in joining him.

Jake's parents were very fond of the marching band. The very day Jake was born, his parents' dream for him to play in the school's marching band grew instantly. Every time Jake's mom would make him food, she would think about him being in the marching band. Every time Jake's dad would come home for work and see Jake playing with toys he would picture him standing tall with pride and walking with dignity in the school's marching band.

It was Monday the 12th and the time finally arrived for Jake to start playing with the marching band. His dad took off of work and his mom marked this exact date on the calendar to drop Jake off to his first band practice. On the ride there, Jake's parents kept giggling and giggling while, Jake sat in the back of the mini van. He secretly removed his seatbelt and rolled his eyes at his parent's laughter.

Jake walked into the practice with a bit of attitude. All the band members just looked at him. He simply walked up to a saxophone, picked it up and played it like a motha. The band members were beside themselves and each person quickly became so jealous of Jake's talent. Because they had practice for forever and he never practiced ever. He was just as good as them, if not better. Since jealously is such a killer it killed a lot of things that day. It killed the band members' kindness and potential friendships with Jake. All of the band members excluded Jake from everything- conversations, parties, and inside jokes. He always thought, "Am I the only person in the marching band who isn't a dufus? Come on society."

There was one guy in the band named Jim. Jim was so mean to Jake. Jim weighed 543.9lbs and he played the cymbals. Jake always thought he was a joke because Jim thought he was the stuff and all he played was the cymbals. Jim would call him "Jake Germ" and all the band members would laugh. While they would laugh, Jake would look at Jim and one word popped into his mind, "Gumbo". He never said it aloud. For Jake was too big for middle school drama.

Jake began to hate everything about music because of marching band. It was sad and Jake became embarrassed about how he didn't enjoy music, but he kept trying to tell himself that he really did love the saxophone. However, with every march came more grief.
Every time Jake had a march his parents insisted on having supper on the porch outside. On Saturday the 4th, Jake's family was eating supper on the porch when Jake broke the news to his parents. He fully expressed how much he didn't like band. Even though the parents were slightly disappointed they knew that it would be best for Jake to stay in the band until he reached high school. Jake's parents were very kind folks. The only reason they wanted him to stay in band longer was because they didn't want Jake to be 43 years old and wishing he had some sort of hobby. Jake didn't understand this though he got angry and went run in the woods. After he came back from the run, his anger cooled down. He played in the marching band until he became a freshman. On his last march, he took his saxophone and smashed it on Jim. Jim cried. Jake laughed then hopped on his scooter and went home. He was beyond happy.

Once he got home, he told his mom he had so much energy that he had to go on an adventure. "Fine, Jake" was his mom's reply. Jake walked through the forest, then through the sand dunes, and then he saw a bright light. He never saw such a thing before. He ran so quick towards it. The light grew into different colors the closer he got to it.

Once Jake reached it he couldn't believe his eyes. He thought to himself, "This my friend, is the city life." The smell really got Jake. It was something he never smelt before. His sense of smell just left him because it was too much for it to handle. But, that didn't faze Jake. While he was walking into the city, he noticed his knees getting larger with muscle. Jake felt invisible.

He saw a kid who looked like Jim playing a guitar. This was the very first time Jake had ever seen a guitar. Jake walked up to this kid and grabbed his guitar.
The little kid said, "Hey, what are you doing?"
Jake said," It's the city lyfe, bruh."
And the little kid nodded, put his head down, and thought to himself, "I wish I had the city lyfe swag." The thing is most people wished this same too.
Jake played guitar, sang, and made friend with other city lyfe kids.
Jake and his friends ruled the city.
The end.

Lace.

I'm naming my kid Hannibal
So I can call him Hannibal the Cannibal.

This note is lighter. On a lighter note.

During the break last week me and my awesome modge(mother, mom, homegurl, sister fran, marmy, momma, mum etc.) were talking about her and my father taking in some foster children. I am in full support of this.

After we chatted I was in the bathroom and a thought/ mental image entered my head. Yes, like a cloud, it appeared to me.
( *Thesaurus search "vision" because vision sounds cheese. Results: mental image. Much better).

I pictured a community.
Full of the young and old.
It was located on a large piece of land.
In the back yard there were several small cute houses.
The size of these houses were large enough to house one or two people.
Small and cozy.
Recap: Big piece of land with a bunch of small houses. The grass is green green.

Then in the front of the land there's this really large house.
And there is also another building on the land.
In the small houses is where the elderly, once were lonely, live.
In the large house is where all the orphans live.

One day a week will be bingo and/or po-ke-no night.
Another day out of the week the children will perform plays.
One day a week will be dance/paint day. In the building there will be a room completely empty. You will go in this room to paint. You can go wild. Throw paint. Be paint. Whatever. The children will be allowed to dance to Givers and MGMT or whatever fun music they want and paint all over this room.

This is what the other big building will be used for. It's occupation:
It will have kitchen because everyone will eat supper in this place.
Bingo night will be held here, Love will be shown here, God's word will be exposed here, Art will be created here, friendships will be planted here, dance moves will form here, and plays will be perform here. This building will make you pee on yourself because it will be screaming with fun, love and emotions.

Thank you God, for giving us dreams.
May your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.

Sadness. Society. Skin. Bones.

I'm doing my English research paper on the dark side of the fashion world. While I was researching, I found out about about a girl named Isabelle Caro.
She developed an eating disorder whenever she was 13 years old. It was triggered by a troubling upbringing.

She said," I had a very complicated childhood, very difficult, very painful. My mother's big phobia was that I would grow. She spent her time measuring my height. She wouldn't let me go outside because she'd heard that fresh air makes children grow, and that's why I was kept at home. It was completely traumatic."

She posed naked for the "No Anorexia" campaign. In Milan for fashion week her billboards were all over the city.
When asked if girls would be inspired by this add to become skinnier this was Caro response, “I hope not. To see my tailbone like an open wound, I show myself as I am. I'm not beautiful, my hair is ruined and I know I will never have long hair again. I've lost several teeth. My skin is dry. My breasts have fallen. No young girl wants to look like a skeleton...You couldn't believe anyone would want to look like that. I don't think there's any question about it."

"I’ve hidden myself and covered myself for too long. Now I want to show myself fearlessly, even thought I know my body arouses repugnance. I want to recover because I love life and the riches of the universe. I want to show young people how dangerous this illness is. Just because modeling is seen as glamorous, the industry seems to think this is outside normal health and safety issues. It is time it started taking care of its workers."

Caro died at twenty-eight years old from being anorexic. Two months after Caro's death, her mom's guilt grew and felt responsible. Her mother killed herself.

There was an unsaid game me and my sisters would play. At church...
Goal: Try not to get hugged by the old lady with hot pink lips and wears pastal pink sweaters.

We're jerks, not sweethearts.


I love when girls stand like this. ALL Tyme F@v PO$e. It's totes fun.

Hardin' workin' day.

What a day.
Read about the following musicians: Adele, Kurt Cobain, and Fleet Foxes.
Did some homework.
Heard about Mormonism at the library.

Then, harding working:
Picked black berry like I was born on a farm in 1943.


Now, studio design project



About to hit midnight and finishing the day with a crick in my neck, splinters in my skin, and Slumdog Millionaire with Poppie.
Goodnight, folks.

EARTH, today is your day!

History of Earth day:
"How the First Earth Day Came About
By Senator Gaylord Nelson, Founder of Earth Day

What was the purpose of Earth Day? How did it start? These are the questions I am most frequently asked.

Actually, the idea for Earth Day evolved over a period of seven years starting in 1962. For several years, it had been troubling me that the state of our environment was simply a non-issue in the politics of the country. Finally, in November 1962, an idea occurred to me that was, I thought, a virtual cinch to put the environment into the political "limelight" once and for all. The idea was to persuade President Kennedy to give visibility to this issue by going on a national conservation tour. I flew to Washington to discuss the proposal with Attorney General Robert Kennedy, who liked the idea. So did the President. The President began his five-day, eleven-state conservation tour in September 1963. For many reasons the tour did not succeed in putting the issue onto the national political agenda. However, it was the germ of the idea that ultimately flowered into Earth Day.

I continued to speak on environmental issues to a variety of audiences in some twenty-five states. All across the country, evidence of environmental degradation was appearing everywhere, and everyone noticed except the political establishment. The environmental issue simply was not to be found on the nation's political agenda. The people were concerned, but the politicians were not.

After President Kennedy's tour, I still hoped for some idea that would thrust the environment into the political mainstream. Six years would pass before the idea that became Earth Day occurred to me while on a conservation speaking tour out West in the summer of 1969. At the time, anti-Vietnam War demonstrations, called "teach-ins," had spread to college campuses all across the nation. Suddenly, the idea occurred to me - why not organize a huge grassroots protest over what was happening to our environment?

I was satisfied that if we could tap into the environmental concerns of the general public and infuse the student anti-war energy into the environmental cause, we could generate a demonstration that would force this issue onto the political agenda. It was a big gamble, but worth a try.

At a conference in Seattle in September 1969, I announced that in the spring of 1970 there would be a nationwide grassroots demonstration on behalf of the environment and invited everyone to participate. The wire services carried the story from coast to coast. The response was electric. It took off like gangbusters. Telegrams, letters, and telephone inquiries poured in from all across the country. The American people finally had a forum to express its concern about what was happening to the land, rivers, lakes, and air - and they did so with spectacular exuberance. For the next four months, two members of my Senate staff, Linda Billings and John Heritage, managed Earth Day affairs out of my Senate office.

Five months before Earth Day, on Sunday, November 30, 1969, The New York Times carried a lengthy article by Gladwin Hill reporting on the astonishing proliferation of environmental events:

"Rising concern about the environmental crisis is sweeping the nation's campuses with an intensity that may be on its way to eclipsing student discontent over the war in Vietnam...a national day of observance of environmental problems...is being planned for next spring...when a nationwide environmental 'teach-in'...coordinated from the office of Senator Gaylord Nelson is planned...."

It was obvious that we were headed for a spectacular success on Earth Day. It was also obvious that grassroots activities had ballooned beyond the capacity of my U.S. Senate office staff to keep up with the telephone calls, paper work, inquiries, etc. In mid-January, three months before Earth Day, John Gardner, Founder of Common Cause, provided temporary space for a Washington, D.C. headquarters. I staffed the office with college students and selected Denis Hayes as coordinator of activities.

Earth Day worked because of the spontaneous response at the grassroots level. We had neither the time nor resources to organize 20 million demonstrators and the thousands of schools and local communities that participated. That was the remarkable thing about Earth Day. It organized itself."

". . . on April 22, 1970, Earth Day was held, one of the most
remarkable happenings in the history of democracy. . . "
-American Heritage Magazine, October 1993



It's more eco damaging to build a Prius than to build a Hummer...


Let's celebrate mother nature today.
Let's bake her a cake that consist of leaves and flowers.
Let's breath in air from the wind, not ac.
Let's get off our computer.
Let's move away from our TV's.
Let's be thankful for our hippie friends who appreciate the earth everyday not just today.
Let's replace our instrumental music with the birds and the leaves howling with the winds.
Let's ride our bikes today
Let's be grateful
Today is a beautiful day.

Going get high on the grass. K, bye. KIDDING!