Happy Birthday Daddy.

Take this pen,

And draw a line. 

Winding roads,

Long hour drives;

Forge the lines to create an image;

Bind them with your mind.

Meaningful converses,

And those awkward moments.

These memories unfold,

This story untold.

Forget, 

Repress,

Express. 

We share these times,

For a purpose.

Share them freely,

In hopes of impact. 

25 Things

Rules:
Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

1. I'm half Hawaiian, half white.
2. I like to diagnose myself as a way of compensating for what I dislike.
3. I think I have social anxiety disorder.
4. I hate being in overly crowded places, or places where I don't know anyone.
5. If I had the choice I'd lock myself in a room away from people and the world.
6. I like everything to be perfect and in it's intentional place.
7. I like to cook, but rarely do. 
8. Drawing and art is a favorite past time. 
9. I love sushi. 
10. I graduated early and sometimes I regret it. 
11. There's alot of things that I would want to change in my past but never would, cus it'd change who I am      today. 
12. I worry about everything. 
13. Someday I'd like to publish a book. (Not sure about what yet)
14. I absolutely love History novels. 
15. The national geographic channel fascinates me. 
16. People call me ocd. I call them stupid. 
17. I can't stand the smell of smoke. 
18. I'm the worst procrastinator at when it comes to my own work but for some reason I love doing others work. 
19. I talk way to much. 
20. I'm oblivious to most things. 
21.Have an extremely retarded attention span and usually stop paying attention in classes within the first few minutes. 
23. I hate people who eat with there mouths open. It's rude, and disgusting. 
24. I usually take things very personally even if they're not intended to be. 
25. I want to be a forensic anthropologist.

Food for Thought

Some Interesting Side notes to my life include: 

Hate wearing shoes. :P
Has a pretty short attention span. 
Loves facts that are irrelevant to life. 
Huge procrastinator. 
Likes singing,...but only in my car. 
Wants everything in order. /exact/
Favorite number is two. 
Dislikes my name. /A lot/
Says "crap",”idk”, and “whatever” a lot.
Dislikes math. /with a passion/
Wants cowboy boots. (still!)
Absolutely love Gilmore Girls. 
In love with coffee & brownies. 
Historical novels are the best. 
My car's a piece of crap, and I'm aware. 
Wants an old beat up truck. 
Music is my refuge. : )
You're never too old to have a bed full of stuffed animals. 
My Daddy is a super hero (and Santa). 
Reba is the Queen of Country, and will always be. Sorry Taylor :(
And Shania sucks for giving up a career for a family. Psshhh who does that?!

Answer me this?

I lay here for hours,

I wait for Your answer, 

I pray for Your guidance, 

But I’m deaf to Your words. 

Help me hear Your crystalline voice,

Your indefinite knowledge,

Your unconditional love. 

For You are the answer, 

I’m starving myself for. 

For You are the guidance, 

I’m seeking within.

For You are my key, 

To my tangled endeavor, 

Locked and wedged between it all. 

My Daddy Tales Time

Like a clock, 

You tell the time. 

The time you told me, 

How to make a dime. 

I listened to you then; untrue, 

But I listen to you now, 

And realize just how much you knew. 

Through money, politics, and common sense,

You taught me lessons that were intense.

I love you Daddy, 

This much is true, 

So keep on teaching me things anew. 

Futile

              So, I’m laying on my bed, Taylor Swift playing of course, and I’m just so lost. I need to know what’s going to happen in my life. I need to make things happen. I’m praying for Penney’s to call me for the job, but all I can do is pray. Maybe things will brighten up once I get a job? I’m not sure. I just know my life can’t continue on this down casting spiral. I’m going no where, and I’m getting there fast.  I don’t want to be that kid that lives at home with their parents until they’re thirty. I want, rather, need to be an individual living out on my own. I can’t handle all the bickering between my mom anymore. I mean, I sometimes understand where she is coming from, but it just seems like I’ll never be able to fix the mess I’ve made.
I don’t think she’ll ever think that it wasn’t my fault for being thrown out and just discarded by Uncle boy.
I know she blames me… I hear her tell me it all the time. Maybe it was my fault, I don’t know. I’m just so tired of everyone discarding me, like a worthless penny. I feel useless and unwanted. Will that ever change? I need a purpose to my life. I need an apartment. I can’t continue this way. No one wants me here, and I feel it all the time. My life is just pointless.  I just don’t know what’s going to turn out, out of all of this.
I mean, honestly, I’ll never see myself as a wife, nor a mother. So my life on earth is pretty transparent, it’s disposable. So why does God keep me here? What is His purpose for me here?
Maybe if I knew what His purpose was, I could be better at fulfilling it. I wish I knew.
Why would God love me? Why would he bother to have a plan for me? What makes me so special? I’m not special. I’m below average, and everyone knows it. So what could He be planning, for a worthless girl? No man could ever love me. So why should He?

A Desperate Blessing

As the rushing students race up the steps,
All that's left is the depressing depths,
Of a lonely young man who can't find his place.
And nothing is left, no evidence, no trace.


The overwhelming faces begin to subside,
And in the end, there is no where to hide.
A blockade of concrete stands in the way,
And a sense of abandonment is left astray.


The doors kept ajar,
Through this agonizing defeat;
A constant reminder to those who are weak.


The cold blooded railings keeping you bound,
Holding you back from standing your ground.
Brainwashing you in an unpleasing manner,
Beating you down as if it were a hammer.


The bricks creating your own prison,
Keeping you bonded in its resin.
Screaming for help you hear your own voice,
But no one responds, as if they had a choice.


The doors slam shut,
And there is no way out,
Except to fight your ignorant doubt.


Racing up these once taunting stairs,
You accept there guidance and receive their cares.
You forget this curse and create a blessing,
Which now you uphold in your unchanging testing.

A Father's Love

A father's love, rising like mercury,

From the roots that hold him firm.

His long tall trunk, thick with nutrients,

Offering shade to those who need it.

His extended branches,

Waiting for an open embrace.

His brittle leaves that fall,

Providing a weekend of fun for the children below.

Oh, how he watches the children growing old.

With the new green buds arising after a long autumn,

Brings out the beauty for the passers bye to gaze.

With every year returning, he is becomming older.

But with age come wisdom, and the new year takes on,

A father's love.

Devastation Strikes

The problems are blowing,

The tears are flowing,

And no one is there to save you.

You can try to hide,

But you can only abide,

This never ending pain.

As life goes on the difficulties proceed,

You can try to succeed,

But in the end you can only be,

The person you've always been.

With these restraining limitations,

Blocking all of your innovations,

Forcing you to be another one of their clones.

You try to scream,

But they always say they're on your team;

Backstabbers you know they shall be.

Feeling your energy draining from your very soul,

Exhausted from the endless toll,

You forget what you stand for,

And accompany their demeaning ways.

Lesson Learned

   Staring through the foggy window within my room, I observed the winter breeze at his best. As it swept through the opening between houses, it tickled it's way through the lawn, then twirled into an absent abyss of solitude, having the impact of the calm before the storm. Knowing that it would soon pick up again, I waited patiently. The moon laid crisp in the air tonight, beaming light down to this tiny patch of wind-touched lawn. It felt as if time could stand still, waiting for a traumatic tragedy to unravel, forcing this continuous time bomb into action.
    Soon enough this time bomb would begin to explode into the reincarnation of my father. As he walked through, that symbol of privacy, which every teen thrives on, I noticed this troublesome look flash across his abrasive face. His eyes, so stern, lips held tight, and his forehead wrinkled, but I could tell that this had to be bigger than any mistake I could pull. No one in my mind, could make my father's emotions  go through the roof.
    "I just got off the phone," my father said in a tremble-some voice.
    Knowing some thing was wrong, "With who?"
    Clearing his throat, "Aunty Barbara, she says your Grand-dad is passing."
    "Grand-dad?" I responded with a tone of bewilderment.
    "Yes", he responded as he made his way to sit on my bed beside me.
   I felt this sudden chill, run up my spine, and between my shoulder blades, that I involuntarily shook off. Two different thoughts collided in my mind in an overwhelming flow of confusion. Finally the first thought broke through, giving me enough time to analyze the situation and decide on my actions. A feeling of shock consumed my body with a sort of kick to the brain one gets from drinking a slushy to quickly. The knowledge  of never properly meeting my Grand-dad created an infuriating, helpless, desire. My second reaction consisted of being more similar to that of my father's. The tragedy of loosing someone to this morbid beast, infested suffrage, of a situation, put a halt on all of my expectations. The expectation of which most children take for granted in this generation.
    Offering a hug to my father, I could grasp the full impact of this significant event in his life. My father had never been close to Grand-dad. Those foggy details of what happened, that pulled them so far apart, remain anonymous, and all I could do was offer a shoulder for him to cope on.
    Immediately he ran to the closet and began removing all of the luggage.
    As he caught his breathe he said, "Pack your bag, we're going to Palestine, Texas".
    And that was that.
    While packing my bag, it occurred to me, "I'm actually going to see my Grand-dad?" Then my thoughts were racing to, "But what if he passes before we get there? I mean, it is an eleven hour drive. What if he can't wait? What will happen then? How would dad feel?"
    Realizing that these thoughts hindered me down from packing abruptly, I put them out of my mind. "The sooner we get there, the better".
    About an hour later, the family sped off down this lonely road, leading to a mysterious journey, filled with more drama than an invigorating lifetime movie. The commercials being the only thing it lacked.
    Nearing Palestine, I caught myself dreaming off again. My fingers creating little drawings through the fog on the back-seat window. I thought of my Grandmother, and how she would have been. I've always imagined her as the perfect woman, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, and would have been the perfect Grandmother. From the stories I've heard and recollected, I knew or imagined that she was a tall, thin woman, that held a porcelain face. She would have had the softest, delicate touch, and a smile to illuminate the room. Her long brunette hair would fall along-side her high cheek bones framing her captivating face. However, her health had been an entirely different situation, ending her life around twenty-eight years ago.
    Quickly snapping out of that intense visual, I could barely read the words, "Palestine Veteran Hospital" peer through the foggy glass. The intensity level jumped to a level ten. A sudden stillness rested among the car and an uneasy feeling erupted within me. Noticing my father prepare himself to enter the hospital, the rest of the family followed. We reached the room 3-0-9 and walked through the barrier, in which, protected us from the epitome of loss hope, and false desire.
    This incomprehensive mass, of what once was a stunning man, laid across a hospital bed, but I could only picture the image of him in his coffin. Focusing on his facial features I could see the resemblance of my father, the sturdy chin, tightened lips, long angular nose, and thin hair. He had white whiskers growing out of his beard and snow white hair, going straight back. His eyes were left so barren, as if he could still sense the pain of loosing his wife. He seldom blinked, or removed his focus off of that blank-white wall. Decoding the possibilities of what he was thinking on led me to believe that this wall signified greater importance. That this wall merged the division of the dececed and of the living, creating a resolution between the two realms. In lack of a better term, a peace-offering to the dying.
   Without a word he filled his lungs, and let out a sigh of relief.
In that instant he left this world, and moved on to a greater land. A land filled with hope, dreams, and most of all, the love of his life.

    Although God didn't give me the chance to tie ends with my Grand-dad, I believe the lesson was greater than anything I could imagine. There is no questioning to the will of God, and the plans he holds so dearly for all of us. All we can do is follow through with His intensions and grasp these life lessons he throws out at us. I may wish from time to time, that I was given the chance to know my Grandparents, but that will never mean they aren't there for me. They watch over me, each and everyday, and assure me that in the end of all these obstacles, and all the life struggles, I will be okay.