Unevitable as Gravity

Sixth time
is more than a lonly rhyme
                                                                                                                Now
tell my heart I'm fine
though I see that line
                                                                                                              behind
I said it before
there will be nothing more
                                                                                                                    me
as I fall I fret
I will live to regret
                                                                                                                  again.
All of me will be broken
and lifes precious token
                                                                                                                      All
I say I'm on guard
my defenses are hard
                                                                                                                     love
here my heart lies
here my soul cries
                                                                                                                    failed.
hope bloomed
because a chance was assumed
                                                                                                                    Again
what love I poured
was only ignored
                                                                                                                     easily
and here I go, here I fall
knowing I will never stand tall
                                                                                                                   slipping
happiness sought
but never caught
                                                                                                                          for
and here it is before me
never was I free
                                                                                                                             a
gravity, taking me still
my heart again will
                                                                                                                        crush.

Audacious

The sweet sound of a few hundred teenagers singing in praise still rings in my ears, though the camp ended weeks ago. It continues to overwhelm my heart with a joy that only comes with worship. The power of God spoke to all of us at Student Life camp this summer. On the last day of worship, It was a blessing to see the image of hands held high, outlined by the concert lights in the background. To see the spirit of God gathered up in one room where He is needed most, in the souls of us youth. It is needed here, before we take on the battle of life; and the one that we are already fighting within ourselves. It will continue to grow, and throw more troubles and obstacles at us when we leave our families. Even now we struggle along. We stumble for footing, just to be caught back up in his grace, and there we find our footing once again. The voices joined together, and rose up above the silence when the instruments dropped out. We knew the song, it was being sung in our hearts, and we had to cry out together. We became one strong voice that was fearless. No matter how beautiful to my own ears, It was a battle cry. And it was terrifying to the Devil. He seeks to harm us when he could not hurt the one he attempts to shame. We are approachable, and we are constantly reminded of our faults when he attacks. But that sound, of youth joined together in praise makes him retreat in fear. No one is more powerful than God, and when all of us find Him, the battle is won. It will still be difficult, and we will be thrown in the waves, but we have been saved. Thank you to Ben Stuart and Kristian Stanfill for a summer that I will never forget. Student Life, Audacious Summer 2012, Orange Beach Alabama

The year of Ally Chapter One

Chapter One
Tanasia O’Hare
 The combination of blinking lights, and monotone orders over the mental intercom system can overpower the brain at times. Making it close to impossible to follow the orders being barked at top speed. The human race may soon enough be assigned a number per person. All in the pursuit to find a more efficient method of communication.
The ship was not in utter chaos, but it could be considered so to any rookie. I have seen it in worse conditions in the past ten years that I have been a part of the space stations crew. True chaos is when we are in peril, here and now, we are only busy. The station maintenance drones buzzed above my head as I ran down the corridor. First day on my position as a field agent finally has arrived. Too my luck, I am late. The drones had been doing some metal intercom repair over the night, setting my internal clock back an hour. Only problem is that I was never able to have them chance my personal settings back along with it. My three o’clock awakening was pushed to four against my will. Now as I haul to my introgression appointment before they close down for the morning. I run praying that I will not shoot me off into space for my unintended tardiness.
“Good Morning ISS Citizens. Today is December 20, 2310. Daily announcement download in 3...2...1” an human voice, then ambient click and every citizen was invaded with knowledge. Daily and up coming events that are relevant to our individual lives flooded into our brains instantly. I knew everything from the fire outbreak in section five, to the lunch special. Every single day with the quick and privacy invading interruption of my thoughts. “Earth update in 3...2...1” following with another click and more knowledge on every little detail going on, on the primitive land beneath us . Another click for birthday announcements and the intercom shut off for the day. Unless of course there was some message from the President of the United States, or the President of the United Nations. Those messages have not occurred in two years, but on ISS, or the international Space station, they are not looked at as uncommon.
We are in charge all the earths knowledge, research and history since the beginning of time. Unfortunately, that requires almost no privacy. Messages from authority can be received through the brain’s installed intercom system to reduce hassle and confusion. Interpersonal and Work related communication other than talking takes place through microphones and listening devices disguised as piercing in the nose and in the cartilage of the ear. Which of course can be monitored at anytime by authority.
I burst thought the doors to the medical wing, took a flight of stairs down to introgression and arrived an hour late to my appointment. Sweating, cursing, and probably looking like a mess I had arrived. I stopped in the middle of the tile flooring, stale cold air swirling around me. The human medic and his accompanying drone nurse came forth to great me. No sign of urgency flashed across the doctors face, relaxing my nerves slightly.
“Happy Birthday Ms. O’Hare. Tardiness will only be excused on birthdays. Follow suit. The lab awaits.” The doctor spoke to me. Black electronic eyes bored into mine, then turned for me to follow. His thin frame proceeded down the lonely corridor, with the wheels of the drone behind me.
Walking past covered operating rooms, the reality of the situation hit me without warning. We will walk into one cold sterile operating room, I will have to lie down on the plastic bed and close my eyes to stop my internal screaming. Yet I will only have seconds before they ask me to open them so they can put the clamps on my eyes. The eyes roll backwards during sleep, and the clamps will have to come before they can knock me out cold. Only upside of being under the control and will of the surgeons, is if I don’t give them a reason to hate me, I would receive night vision along with a rare few others on the ship.
The handsome and taciturn face of the surgeon will be the last thing that I see before the drone injects me with the chemicals. It will be the last face I will see before I go from researcher, to field agent.
Field agent, where I will get to see planet Earth for the first time in my existence. The idolized status above the position of authority. The only position where you are required to get extensive introgression surgeries. What new genes I will posses frightens me, let alone the fact that I might not wake up from the surgery. Which hasn’t happened in 100 years, yet there is still the possibility.
In the ISS, there is no time to fear, no time to for hesitation, and absolutely no time for errors. So, with one last blink, swallow and thought of reassurance. I sit down on the table, as the drone carries over the lethal looking eye clamps. No turning back. Even if I did, there was no where for me to go. I am in space. with the only way down to earth in front of me.
　

　

A little idea that I just started. I am only posting the first chapter unfortunately. 

The year of

ALLY

Home

In the midst of packing up the last of the items in our house, I thought of my blog. Still didn’t know what I was going to write, but I thought of titles. I don’t know if it was because I had little sleep on the carpet floor, or if it was just because I was getting my mind off of the reason I was packing my stuff. But song titles started rolling through my head to try and base the next post on. The Ingrid Michelson song are we there yet started to go through my head. The first line was fine, however the second just made me want to forget the song even popped in my head.
I looked around and remember the previous two days. How there were a lot of families that we are friends with, helping load everything we own into two large trucks. The chaos, the heat, the sweat and tiredness that came with. But I also remembered the friendliness, how everyone got along, and even if it was a lot of work, it was fun. Because we were all together. Home really is where the heart is. Unlike Ingrid, I have found my home, and we are not driving around in circles, afraid to call this place our home. I always said, Texas is my home, all my family is there. But all these friendships we have created, all these lives we have been blessed to be apart of, are raw and real. We created them from ground up. No one lead us to these families when we moved here originally. We knew no one, except for my dads boss. So looking around was hard to do, because I didn’t want to break down as they left, even though we are the ones who are really leaving.
I hope I hadn’t offended anyone who noticed I didn’t cry. I hate crying, and despise it when others are around. Some people say its good for you, but I just enjoy making people smile and laugh. That’s why when the last family left, when giving the mother a hug goodbye, I had to give her a quick tango instead of having her tears wash over me. I was sad to be saying goodbyes, even though I know it wont be the last time I am going to be seeing them. I just needed my expression of sadness to come before and after that moment.
So long story summed up, I just basically discovered my heart can have more than one home. Its not in the house that carried so many memories. Its in the memories themselves, the people, the friendship and the life that brought happiness. Of course we always have our home with God, but the homes that he has supplied us with is more than just a structure that can be taken down with wind. These relations that we make are strong, and are what will withstand something like a move. Its what I had to tell myself when we were saying a temporary goodbye. A little bit of comfort when you are leaving your home, to make another one.

Together (because I need to say it)

       Well as my current one follower knows, because she is one of my best friends, I am moving. She does not want to talk about it, and I am not sure she will be reading this or not. But I will talk to this unknown audience of readers as if I knew she was going to read. Who would read this anyway? Sure I posted the link on Facebook. Though I am just another high schooler. I just like writing, so why should anyone take the time to read these words? I am not saying you should. Because most people in the world like to turn a blind eye to somethings and some people that just want to be real. And that's all I am and will be in these blog posts. So if you are still reading, stay tuned for what goes through me. Well, a piece of it anyway. And even though my one follower might not respond, even if she does read this. I wanted her to know how I felt, without saying it in a conversation. It would be to weird and it wouldn't come out like it does if I write it.

Confuzzling

     I am happy, I am blessed. Though I am also confused at the same time. See, I think it a combination of being a girl, and having an over anylizing, over thinking brain. I try to stop it, but it never listens to me.
     As I am writing this, I am cleaning my room, re arranging my room, on facebook, and doing a little arts and craft project. None of these things helps organize, or distract my brain. I keep thinking things I have told myself I shouldn't. Contemplating these things too much does not help me accomplish anything. The things I think about are pointless and part of my life.
    Those things that I cannot separate my brain from sprout from being a girl. Though every time in the past when I have thought about it, its always hurt someone else in the end. It worries me that it will happen again. I don't want it to, because I really care about the person that it would effect. If anything went wrong I would never be able to forgive myself.
   So now, I must get back to cleaning. It doesn't help my situation, but at least I can worry and be upset in a clean room, right?

Bracing for the Impact

     If you hit your hand on a hot stove, it hurts right? If you know it would hurt again, why would you do it again? Sometimes I feel like that with my life, and it scares me. I know what is happening as it does. I know that it might come back to be a hot stove if I continue. Though, it's not something I am able to control apparently. I almost have this paranoid effect, because when I am bracing myself for that impact as I am falling towards, I constantly look around for where it will hit from. I even wonder if it will come at all. It is one big mess I tell you. Its a mistake, a mistake that as I get closer to God, I know will be fixed by following his plan instead of just free falling. I still look over my back, I have that habit. Though, I am slowly easing away from doing that, the longer it goes without making that impact with the hot stove.
      So as I find my way, please deal with these blog posts. This post started off as a nervousness release, yet, it turned out to be working my way through the problem, by admitting I should let God take control. I love how those things work. For now, I am still bracing for the impact. Though holding Gods hand helps me stay calm.