Wednesday, September 04, 2002
If I lay my head down now, on the desk, will it all go away?
I was reading someone else's blog today, and she was talking about how you want something, you think you want it at least, but then you know that it really wouldn't be "you".
I get like that so many times. Since being back on campus i think i've thought about it at least 50 times. What if I wore those clothes? or wore makeup? or listened to that music, or did that certain thing, or my hair was perfect? What would my life be like? Maybe i want that, because it seems like that people with that, that their lives are content, that they're happy, and they have what I want. But then you just realize that .. well.. i don't want that. It's in no way "me". If i would dress up like that, be like that, i wouldn't be happy that way. Right? Right. Sometimes it's hard to figure out just what I'm aiming for.
Frankly, right now, I'm happy with myself. I know who I am, I know what I'm about. I sat on Natalie's bed last night, and stared at my side of the room. The things that make me me, what covers my walls... pictures from concerts. Two Switchfoot posters. An old Volvo ad, The picture Henrie drew. A dear ephesus poster, a "Volvo" emblem. Black and white pictures of my grandparents, aunt and mom. Eeyore. All my cds. Pictures of my family, and April.. friends. My subtle blue gingham bed, with splashes of red: the red star carpet, the red backrest, the red seat cushion. The collage on my desk. The quotes on my bolsters. That's who I am. That's Meghan
"Let's get light years away
From all the things that people say"-Denison Marrs
I get like that so many times. Since being back on campus i think i've thought about it at least 50 times. What if I wore those clothes? or wore makeup? or listened to that music, or did that certain thing, or my hair was perfect? What would my life be like? Maybe i want that, because it seems like that people with that, that their lives are content, that they're happy, and they have what I want. But then you just realize that .. well.. i don't want that. It's in no way "me". If i would dress up like that, be like that, i wouldn't be happy that way. Right? Right. Sometimes it's hard to figure out just what I'm aiming for.
Frankly, right now, I'm happy with myself. I know who I am, I know what I'm about. I sat on Natalie's bed last night, and stared at my side of the room. The things that make me me, what covers my walls... pictures from concerts. Two Switchfoot posters. An old Volvo ad, The picture Henrie drew. A dear ephesus poster, a "Volvo" emblem. Black and white pictures of my grandparents, aunt and mom. Eeyore. All my cds. Pictures of my family, and April.. friends. My subtle blue gingham bed, with splashes of red: the red star carpet, the red backrest, the red seat cushion. The collage on my desk. The quotes on my bolsters. That's who I am. That's Meghan
"Let's get light years away
From all the things that people say"-Denison Marrs
Monday, September 02, 2002
It's so strange how certain situations, and definitely music put you in a mindset that you can just totally FEEL. Friday morning I woke up early to drive back to Washington, to work for Labor Day weekend (because it was going to be busy). I get in the car, head onto I-205, and listen to Brandtson's "Dial-In Sounds". Traveling North is just about enough to really do it to me, but then after a while, I put in "Fallen Star Collection" By Brandtson, which basically defined my summer. WHOA. Suddenly I'm reminded of Seth, and Carole, and Vagrant, and Cornerstone and Nick, and Missouri, and lonely nights in Washington. It was just a huge flashback.
I drove my mom home today, from Washington. My parents had been there all weekend, too. We were silent half the time, and talking the other time. No music was really playing, at least none that I could hear. I dropped my mom off, grabbed some stuff from home, and headed back here to school, and put Cool Hand Luke into the cd player, which I haven't listened to since being back here. Oooooooddddddd. very odd. That was another cd I discovered this summer. Driving the street to my school, with the window down, my hair pulled back, and the music at optimal level... I could've closed my eyes and been back there... back to when I was feeling so much. I FELT so much this summer. Being back at school is a little weird, cause here it's just like, i don't have to feel anything, because there's so much stuff going on. In Washington I was feeling and thinking, and knowing myself because there was nothing else to do. That's what happens when you go to bed early, and lie in bed just pondering.
This weekend I was thinking about how, in the last two weeks, I've hardly had any alone time. Sure, I had two and a half hours on the way up to Washington, but half of that time I was concentrating on staying awake. From a rafting trip, to orientation, to living in the dorms, to eating in the cafeteria, to chapel, to classes, the quiet reserved person in me is worn out. I've been back at school 3 hours, and i'm already tired of people being around all the time. And not my friends. I could never get sick of them, but the people outside my window, and the people who are outside my room when i open the door, and ..... it's hard to go from one extreme to another, and here I am writing in my blog, cause that's the only place it makes sense, or at least it's the only place i can pretend it makes sense.
And can I just say this? I'm sick of fake people. I'm sick of people flirting. I'm sick of made up girls. I'm sick of boys who think they're all that because some girls hang on them every moment. I want truth. I want real relationships. I want nakedness in people. I want open conversations. I want people who are honest with themselves, and their surroundings. Maybe it's because I want people to know me. Maybe i'm just jealous that I'm not making new friends. Maybe I tried too hard. Or maybe I just need some substance. I never want to be the person who doesn't know who they are.
"There's just two ways
to lose yourself in this life
And neither way is safe
In my dreams
I see visions of the future
But today we have today
And where will I find You?
And where will I find You?
In the economy of mercy
I am a poor and begging man
In the currency of grace
Is where my song begins
In the colors of Your goodness
And in the scars that mark Your skin
In the currency of grace
Is where my song begins
These carbon shells
These fragile dusty frames
House cavases of souls
We are bruised
And broken masterpieces
But we did not paint ourselves
Where was I when the world was made?
Where was I when the world was made?
Where was I when the world was made?
Where was I?
I'm lost without You here
Yes, I'm lost without You near me
I'm lost with You here
You knew my name when the world was made"-Switchfoot
I drove my mom home today, from Washington. My parents had been there all weekend, too. We were silent half the time, and talking the other time. No music was really playing, at least none that I could hear. I dropped my mom off, grabbed some stuff from home, and headed back here to school, and put Cool Hand Luke into the cd player, which I haven't listened to since being back here. Oooooooddddddd. very odd. That was another cd I discovered this summer. Driving the street to my school, with the window down, my hair pulled back, and the music at optimal level... I could've closed my eyes and been back there... back to when I was feeling so much. I FELT so much this summer. Being back at school is a little weird, cause here it's just like, i don't have to feel anything, because there's so much stuff going on. In Washington I was feeling and thinking, and knowing myself because there was nothing else to do. That's what happens when you go to bed early, and lie in bed just pondering.
This weekend I was thinking about how, in the last two weeks, I've hardly had any alone time. Sure, I had two and a half hours on the way up to Washington, but half of that time I was concentrating on staying awake. From a rafting trip, to orientation, to living in the dorms, to eating in the cafeteria, to chapel, to classes, the quiet reserved person in me is worn out. I've been back at school 3 hours, and i'm already tired of people being around all the time. And not my friends. I could never get sick of them, but the people outside my window, and the people who are outside my room when i open the door, and ..... it's hard to go from one extreme to another, and here I am writing in my blog, cause that's the only place it makes sense, or at least it's the only place i can pretend it makes sense.
And can I just say this? I'm sick of fake people. I'm sick of people flirting. I'm sick of made up girls. I'm sick of boys who think they're all that because some girls hang on them every moment. I want truth. I want real relationships. I want nakedness in people. I want open conversations. I want people who are honest with themselves, and their surroundings. Maybe it's because I want people to know me. Maybe i'm just jealous that I'm not making new friends. Maybe I tried too hard. Or maybe I just need some substance. I never want to be the person who doesn't know who they are.
"There's just two ways
to lose yourself in this life
And neither way is safe
In my dreams
I see visions of the future
But today we have today
And where will I find You?
And where will I find You?
In the economy of mercy
I am a poor and begging man
In the currency of grace
Is where my song begins
In the colors of Your goodness
And in the scars that mark Your skin
In the currency of grace
Is where my song begins
These carbon shells
These fragile dusty frames
House cavases of souls
We are bruised
And broken masterpieces
But we did not paint ourselves
Where was I when the world was made?
Where was I when the world was made?
Where was I when the world was made?
Where was I?
I'm lost without You here
Yes, I'm lost without You near me
I'm lost with You here
You knew my name when the world was made"-Switchfoot
