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| Spanning a NightA is for apple, B is for blind
I jumped so fast I left the ground behind
You set your sights homeward
And you are more than wise
It's late night heading into morning
You can get used to almost anything
Deep sea eyes, porcelain skin
Love's sweet nests and their boxing rings
It's late night heading into morning
Firecracker, firecracker
Sparkling in the sky
To those of us who saw
Looked like the fire should die
Knowledge pulls the reigns against
The bliss that I once knew
When you set your sights on me
And the firecrackers flew
Ocean of friendship, diamonds far and deep
We still talk of the future
Remembering soft sleep
A is for apple, apple of my eye
It's late night heading into morning
Late night heading into morning...
I began this entry last night. I'm gonna finish it now.
It's completely unimportaint that I write tonight. But for the moment, my coscience is alright with it and that seems somewhat rare. And although I am without firefox, and without automatic spellcheck, these things have nothing to do with real writing, I think. Like many tools and things that make it easy to ramble, the kind of jotting I do not really intend... to jot. It's a Holiday Express. There's a movie on the screen that is about an asylem and there is a man screeming. Awkward. Hmm. I'm a few miles outside of Louisiana State Pen. of Angola. Tomorrow I will tour with my Dad the largest prison facility in the country, 18,000 acres. With the tour, we'll be in the orientation for the next day... On Saturday, a certain number of the 5,000+ inmates are going to have their children visit them for one day. My dad and I will probably be asigned to a father and his kid(s) and be there to serve exclusively to their needs as they spend time together. The spirit of the event reminds me of camp paradise, but only the underlining spirit... what this is... is something about reunion and forgiveness. The long bus ride has given me time to read and a lot to think about.
Truth. I keep finding truth... but then realizing that I am only RETURNING to Truth.
I never found it for the first time. It's always there. Waiting. I don't expect to walk away from this experience with some grand new perspective... what this is about, for me and my dad, is going to serve, I think. And do to it together. Yeah. I'm sort of in a place... not knowing what to exprect. Sort of how life seems all around. But... vivid, by experiences that are now. Since I know good friends read, I'll ask that you do pray for the dads that are seeing their kids for the first time in a long time. That God is given joy by broken hearts willing to look to Him.
Watch. Be still. Talking with mom online over long distance is fun. I need to go find sleep now. 
Undone, -Kevin (way to go, brother. I believe in you.) | | |
| Welcome Welcome WelcomeWelcome to the world, oh yeah
It's in your face
It's all around you
The weight of a year.
It strikes me like a well placed punch in the gut. It humbles me in a instant. I wouldn't notice it if it weren't for such vivid landmarks in the year. Some how in particular I have watched life lay it down and eat 'em up over the year, and through the summer... and now I'm tapped on the shoulder by autumn's call, even now distant but steady, the unspoken words of changing, falling, and preparation for winter. One year, and that time ago, I would have never saw us all where we are now. It makes me understand faith in the things I don't understand. It makes me believe in sunrises coming up like surprises.
Brilliant.
I have to run, right in the middle of an entry. I don't think I've ever posted half-baked... or at least tried not to. But *I'm gonna let it slide*. Don't peak at the photos I uploaded... just wait for me, to post them all.
Wow.
-Kevin
(new xanga background... this one I did all by myself)
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| What have I missed?Mist. A vapor, he said. Like a gunslinger with puns, that one.
Hello, did you notice me?
Can't you see that I'm crumbling down?
Tired of the same old same
I'm coming to
I'm coming back around
There are some in betweens with extremes. Gray to the green and a streak of ribboned yellow.
We want to pick a side from there, sometimes chosen or decided, or as they seemingly fall upon us.
And yes, we think on duality when we see it. Look at how we deal in time, our reason contemplates the past, and our imagination perceives shapes of the future. Ever remaining, ever preluding, concluding, a moment lasts for a moment and this is it. Or as it was and might, and will, be, now, is, are. Yes, we are. Is.
Breathe.
T.S. Elliot the poet and Samuel Beckett the playwright. Chesterton and Pascal the theologians. They make thoughts of mine turn to great, heavy things. Stagger, if you will, when I explain quite sincerely that the quest of questions will lead (mostly) to nothing but more questions. Indeed, the Answer came first and this gave us the chance to ask the questions. And through all this, I seem to still know how to laugh and watch time go passed past and by. Some times good. Sometimes not. Moments, I call them. And I haven't missed a single one. And still I've missed them all.
I'm getting too much of a kick out of this ramble. Every time, I become aware of this quickly, I leave a remark (like the current one) and use it as a tool to justify my speaks. This is the part where I want to turn back, delete myself (in words) and start with something fresh. But with any luck, I'll move onward and this will be another one for the pile, the mound.
In one tense, I sang a song.
Diggin' in for another day
Carrying on in my own
But you know me
I live and die nearly every day
Insanity, it's havin' its way with me
These days in the gallows
I'm kneeling at the block
With my neck outstretched
And I should've stayed in the shallows
But you know me, I'm in too deep
And I'm waiting for another me
One that can change the pain of yesterday
Carry me through another day
And I'm waiting for another me
One in between the burn
And the lessons learned
'Cause being me ain't no way to be
I more so quickly than not realized the flaw, or error, or misconception in its relevancy (application). To the reader, this may appear all to obvious... that the one man was indeed waiting, but the other will surely not come. This is what makes a sort of loneliness, and of self-concern we find a selfish theme. But though it strikes towards a truth in a gracious way, it is a misconception still.
-Gracious.
Now theres a word that awakens you, even from the finger tips, even as you type it. I see someone like Marmee, and I learn little slivers about graciousness. Slivers, I mean, and in my fingertips. Off to Massachusetts.
There's an ever better one, I wish that you might know.
The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though i still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain is there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holdin' on to you
The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
with a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain is there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holdin' on to you
I'm hangin' on another day
Just to see what you will throw my way
And I'm hanging on to the words you say
You said that I will be ok
The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home
Meet this with a Pslam, a prayer, a landscape and an old friend. You have a moment of definition, at least as it was.
Of course I'm looking forward, why would you ask? Why not? I am! Because time is more valuable than possibilities, and both there is much of. Nostalgia is an enemy of possibility, we become fond of a recording that will never change. This one will buy a goodbye before it will accept one willingly. And then we go on, as the next day will arise, and see that hope is not defined by what will actually come to pass, but by what is even now taking place. Hope lives in the moment. Though it befriended tomorrow, it resides with today.
So true, says the reader.
I tell you without metaphor that I was on the waters with the moonlight to one side and the sunset on the other. I'm enough of a moondancer to be a lunatic. I set down often as well, in similarity. And I'm trying to elude to something wonderful in the wind and the water, but all I can get to is how incredible a thing like friendship is. How over the course years it can sit and wait, or walk for miles. And even to the very focus of wind and water, this is all I can brood over.
I began to think perhaps I should tweak my personality to be more inclined to be concerned with other people (opposed to myself)... but you've already got me there, as I began such a sentence with "I". Such a tweak is a facade of self-love.
Nay. I know wherefor love has come.
You, reader... might not quite follow this part... but...
At a time, I discovered a hero and a villain alongside one known as manS laughter, and I know good things are in such a friendship. And I believe in him.
Next. Shared before you are two of them sharing something, something right, and good, and blessed, and they are quite something, let me tell you. Such beginnings, growing out of friendship. I believe in them. Next. I sat, at times didn't know what to say. But that moment lasted a few hours, and friendship was of great worth, as worthy of a cause, to be cared for, thoughts to be shared for, it's what I was there for. I am grateful and joyful, I know something now to be sure as time will go on. Next. I still believe in them both, with everything I am. Next. I am tossing a rock and tumbling through grass. I am being seen. And I am finely seeing.
119 - somewhere he prayed something like... "incline my heart, Lord, to your ways." and I was thinking about the songs I sing, when I came upon something to the effect of "You are the the theme to my song" and I felt like I was in conversation with a good friend. I know what that is like.
Vivid and verily, I wish somethings I said more, and others I hadn't at all. I'll think to myself later, wondering if this was good. I already know.
Peace. Yes, I know.
-Kevin | | |
| This is the Moment I've been inclined to write lately -tried by failed- but momentum hasn't really brought me through. Even now, all I want is sleep, but I feel like disproving abstract ideas that I've given up all updating. No, I haven't. There have just grown wider gaps.
Shucks.
I began to type out updates on these last few weeks... but I stopped and backed up when I saw that it was all coming out quite calculated, like a incident report. It's been busy, I admit. Plenty I could talk about. About awesome times at CYT camps, figuring out how to keep up with and work with Privila, starting part-time at the CYT warehouse building sets with a fella named Mark, thinking about some college in the fall. Listing it all off seems to sum it up, but I'm not allowed to divide, and so the bland facts aren't really what I want to write about. They're not everything.
There are certain people... you just keep coming back to.
I humbled when I am made still. As thrilling as this summer has been, I'm finding a lot can been said for how much I'm learning from others. Little discoveries about people, my close friends, and some older and wise, getting to know ourselves through each others eyes. Simply, mind you, and still, at the end of most days as I think of my interactions... I derive a conclusion of how much I still have to go through. I'm so often being challenged by what is made clear by others, but only reveled by God.
What do I even have to say then.
Who am I writing to?
I have to ask. I don't know. Quite.
Who are you?
I have this this all-strings instrumental cover of "Such Great Heights" (by "the section quartet") and I put it on a CD that I play upstairs in my room. Once I was showing it to my mom downstairs... when suddenly and unintentionally the music synced with itself, yet at different points in the song in these two different rooms. So I sat on the steps and listened to music wrap around my whole house, up and down. But even apart from this glorious irony... I enjoy the music that's around me.
This is the moment.
There was this small child who smiled at me through the traffic and the car windows. There was a girl who smiled in the coffee shop. There were fireworks. There's a lot to be said and no rights by which to say it. At one time, I laughed so hard that I could have forgotten I was really where I was. There are new scarfs in my closet.
Maybe I consider that life... is more than who we are.
That people don't stop existing when I don't see them around.
I'm pretty selfish, I've needed to admit that to myself, and it's still taking a humiliating amount of time to let love run free. I consider He's still washing my feet. I consider doing the same. That's what it means.
wrap my arms
around your name
feel your breath
against my pain
as i breathe out the past is gone
empty smile
naked heart
who I was
falls apart
when you're here inside of me
feel till you're numb
depth perception becoming
the new deaf & dumb
I'm losing myself just to find a place
in your mind
in your mind
changing myself just to stand along
in your eyes
in your eyes
pull me in
take me out
make me over
read the wave
ride your fears
in this ocean of years
we've been here, swimming on
take me deep
till I find
every corner of your mind
we've been here, swimming on
touch till you taste
all the time we are wasting
alone, waiting here
I'm losing myself just to find a place
in your mind
in your mind
changing myself just to stand along
in your eyes
in your eyes
pull me in
take me out
make me over and shout me out loud
shout me out loud
I'm losing myself just to find a place
in your mind
in your mind
changing myself just to stand along
in your eyes
in your eyes
pull me in
take me out
make me over
Looking past the horizon.
Did you know that any shadow can be threatened by even the smallest flicker of light?
Haha, I'm thinking to myself how crazy I end up sounding when I write like this... how easy it is for me to dish, how tedious it must be for you to dash. And yet a bit of vulnerability must count as some kind of value, but I've probably got layers and layers of facade. The self-conscientiousnesses I bare before you on such nights is to me like a stack of unread books, because I have no idea so no way you could possibly... well, I do wish I had more clarity, but it's just not mine. Not to me, not my sanctity.
I'm meeting the end of my night. I'll probably sleep in, but I don't want to for too long you know.
Well, cheers to my friends. Believe in great heights.
-Kevin
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