Sunday bloody sunday..
Ah the roller coaster that is my life. I could make so much money if there was a way to give out tickets for a 3 1/2 minute ride on it. I love it...don't get me wrong...but seriously...I might be on the truman show because sometimes I think that waay too much happens that feels like it right out of a movie. Movies aren't supposed to happen in real life....so maybe I'm not real...interesting.
the new question in life is: "what next?" sure I'll go to grad school and blah blah blah, but that won't be until the fall. so from december to august would do i do? Alli and brooke are going to be in Wiston-Salem and I'm pretty set on getting in on that action. Because I miss them more than almost anything and I miss North Carolina. Or maybe I'll just up and peace out to Cali like I've been trying to do for years. I'm applying to San Diego State University and if I get in...yeah won't be around here much longer. Or do i just stay at the 'rent's house and save money....they would say that the last option is the best...and obviously it is...but I only get to up and move whenever I want for a short time longer and then life, job, marriage and all that will hit me and I'll have to be responsible and mature and not leaving anymore. And from what I can see, it's not expensive to live in Winston-Salem.
I've also been thinking about scraping the get a job business and go back to Colombia for the semester. That would be amazing.
Am I running? yeah probably...I don't know why. no that's a lie. I do know why. I'm running because I've convinced myself that since he has a new girl then I have nothing to stay for. I'm not a very logical person. its not that I'm not logical...I'm just very passionate and dramatic and forget to stop and breathe and realize that I have so many good friends and people who care about me here. But by then I've gotten excited about the new experiences that await me on my adventure of running away. and it is no longer about what I'm running away from...but what I am running to. Sometimes when i get there I realize that I made a mistake...but sometimes...wow sometimes...its like heaven opened and I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. so I never know whether to be cautious and safe. or be crazy and risky. but someone wise once said to take more risks.
I told you I wasn't logical.
you stay classy San Diego
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Re-run so that I can find this later
The Ramblings of a Changing Person
originally published on facebook Saturday, June 30, 2007 at 4:06pm
I'm sitting at this desk, in this house, on the side of this mountain. The view from this spot could be one of my favorites in the entire world. I can see the entire city of medellin from up here. and the wind blows the curtains because Colombia don't believe in windows or walls. And as i sit here my mind wanders. so much so that it takes a lot of effort just to type this out.
I ponder my life up to this point. I ponder how I have lived, how I want to live, who I have been, who I am. I wonder about the future, I think about how many of my friends are already married and are having babies left and right and how I long for that in my life, but at the same long for the freedom to travel and see things. I enjoy my independence, I enjoy being on my own.
I find myself torn between wanting to return to school,family, and friends, but at the same wanting to just stay here and work in Acogida. Acogida is the government institution here for street kids. it's literally a zoo. and I fit in well there. I won a dance contest there yesterday. I relate to those kids, the lost causes. The ones that no foundation or rehab program will take or help because they are too old, or too violent, or too high. Prostitutes, travestites, every kind of messed up, hurting child you can think of is there. And they have stolen my heart.
They are so angry. One kid watched his mother stab his father to death. One kid watched the guerillas murder his whole family and he just barely got away. One kid was forced to be a child soldier but he escaped. One kid has one been on the streets for two weeks, his mom died of a drug overdose, he never knew his father. 14-year-old girls, pregnant, some with their second child. And all they want from me (besides money, which I don't have) is compassion. someone to give a crap about who they are as people, as children.
They have changed my life, more than I have changed theirs. Samantha says that I'm out saving the world, but I think in fact it is saving me. I remember what it felt like to wholly believe with everything in me that there was a God, that Jesus, his son, died so that I wouldn't have to be judged for all of the crap that I've done in my life. I remember what is like to have no doubt in my mind that what I believed was the not just the truth but was the only truth. And I remember being a wise person, I remember being a strong person, I remember being healed and seeing others be healed. But I remember being sad, depressed and alone.
I don't know what happened. I left, I traveled, I changed. I became much happier, but I began to doubt so much more. and as time has past, I doubt more and more. And being here does something funny to me. In a way I almost doubt more, because of the injustice. And in way, I can't help but believe but there has to be a hope. And the only hope I can think of is that Jesus loves the little children. I mean, if GOD loves them, the fact that no else does, doesn't mean as much. If the God of the universe wants them, then the fact that their parents don't seems less important. I'm not saying that it's ok for no one to love or want them, I'm just saying that those people are missing out.
Perrea is dead. That kills me. He was my favorite. He was a great friend. He got shot to death in september. I almost don't want to believe it. I keep thinking I'm going to him come around the corner at any moment. But he never does.
to a certain extent, I'm working with these kids for him. Because he was one of them. and he shouldn't have died. They shouldn't have to die, of starvation, or violence, or neglect. They shouldn't have to feel like they are the scum of the earth, the unwanted, the abused, the exploited. But they do. It has changed my perspective on life.
I'm not here to fix people. I'm here to love people.
I won't be back in the states for another month and half, part of me is glad. Because I don't feel whole yet. I'm getting healthier, I'm starting to believe again. To really believe. But I feel very far away.
originally published on facebook Saturday, June 30, 2007 at 4:06pm
I'm sitting at this desk, in this house, on the side of this mountain. The view from this spot could be one of my favorites in the entire world. I can see the entire city of medellin from up here. and the wind blows the curtains because Colombia don't believe in windows or walls. And as i sit here my mind wanders. so much so that it takes a lot of effort just to type this out.
I ponder my life up to this point. I ponder how I have lived, how I want to live, who I have been, who I am. I wonder about the future, I think about how many of my friends are already married and are having babies left and right and how I long for that in my life, but at the same long for the freedom to travel and see things. I enjoy my independence, I enjoy being on my own.
I find myself torn between wanting to return to school,family, and friends, but at the same wanting to just stay here and work in Acogida. Acogida is the government institution here for street kids. it's literally a zoo. and I fit in well there. I won a dance contest there yesterday. I relate to those kids, the lost causes. The ones that no foundation or rehab program will take or help because they are too old, or too violent, or too high. Prostitutes, travestites, every kind of messed up, hurting child you can think of is there. And they have stolen my heart.
They are so angry. One kid watched his mother stab his father to death. One kid watched the guerillas murder his whole family and he just barely got away. One kid was forced to be a child soldier but he escaped. One kid has one been on the streets for two weeks, his mom died of a drug overdose, he never knew his father. 14-year-old girls, pregnant, some with their second child. And all they want from me (besides money, which I don't have) is compassion. someone to give a crap about who they are as people, as children.
They have changed my life, more than I have changed theirs. Samantha says that I'm out saving the world, but I think in fact it is saving me. I remember what it felt like to wholly believe with everything in me that there was a God, that Jesus, his son, died so that I wouldn't have to be judged for all of the crap that I've done in my life. I remember what is like to have no doubt in my mind that what I believed was the not just the truth but was the only truth. And I remember being a wise person, I remember being a strong person, I remember being healed and seeing others be healed. But I remember being sad, depressed and alone.
I don't know what happened. I left, I traveled, I changed. I became much happier, but I began to doubt so much more. and as time has past, I doubt more and more. And being here does something funny to me. In a way I almost doubt more, because of the injustice. And in way, I can't help but believe but there has to be a hope. And the only hope I can think of is that Jesus loves the little children. I mean, if GOD loves them, the fact that no else does, doesn't mean as much. If the God of the universe wants them, then the fact that their parents don't seems less important. I'm not saying that it's ok for no one to love or want them, I'm just saying that those people are missing out.
Perrea is dead. That kills me. He was my favorite. He was a great friend. He got shot to death in september. I almost don't want to believe it. I keep thinking I'm going to him come around the corner at any moment. But he never does.
to a certain extent, I'm working with these kids for him. Because he was one of them. and he shouldn't have died. They shouldn't have to die, of starvation, or violence, or neglect. They shouldn't have to feel like they are the scum of the earth, the unwanted, the abused, the exploited. But they do. It has changed my perspective on life.
I'm not here to fix people. I'm here to love people.
I won't be back in the states for another month and half, part of me is glad. Because I don't feel whole yet. I'm getting healthier, I'm starting to believe again. To really believe. But I feel very far away.
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