Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Him.

I love that he looks for me first everytime he signs into messenger.
I love that everytime he finds out something new about me, he recites every single thing that he knows, such as Indian food is my favourite kind of take-out, orange tic tacs, orange soothers, kleenex tissues, pumpkin soup and hypoallergenic pillows are necessary when I'm sick, I love penguins and I reckon the best colour in the world is red. He knows the small details about me that people overlook, like the fact that I have a mole on the side of my big toe on my left foot and that I bite my fingernails unwillingly. I know his secrets too, like that he has a stuffed snow leopard that he sometimes drags out of his den when no one is around and if he was an animal, that's the one that he would be.
And his text message every single night of "sweet dreams, x", that's my favourite - so thank you, I appreciate you more than you'll ever know.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Precious Treasures

I want to be that age again; the age where you don't feel embarrassed to be seen holding your daddy's hand walking down the street. You don't feel completely humiliated when you are seen holding your blankie and sucking your thumb. You don't feel uncomfortable, or nervous to ask your mother to tuck you into bed and gently stroke your hair until you fall asleep. You can be seen wearing an Elmo shirt in public, share your ice cream with your dog and you're utterly oblivious to how bad the world can be. Your mother's lipstick looks cute, not ridiculous on you and butterfly kisses are obviously a daily ritual.

So many things I should have treasured a little bit more.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Society and Culture Task.

My name is Rebekah Grace and I am almost seventeen years of age. I am just over 5ft tall, I am stubborn, I believe that Jesus died for my sins and I have an uncanny infatuation with the colour yellow. I have never left Australia, only travelled to Queensland, respect people who live their lives to the full and sometimes like to awkwardly dance in the rain.

I love writing, reading, sport and church. These four things are my main interests and they are therefore a giant part of my life. I admire many writers (such as Jodi Picoult) who are able to take small things and make them sound completely beautiful. It’s something I wish I could do. A quality I like to think I have is that of humour. I think that if everyone laughed a little longer, then things would be okay.

I have a blanket that I acquired when I was younger. I’m almost never without it. I guess I’m pretty attached to it. Another item of mine that rarely leaves my side is my Kleenex box. I’m sick a lot. A major skill that I posses is the ability to whistle through my nose. It sounds like a train. Also, I am a vegetarian. I respect vegetarianism. I am lactose intolerant. I hate it. My friends and family mean the world to me and I have decided that I am happy.

Forgive and Forget?

I don't forgive people because I am weak.
I forgive people because I understand that they make mistakes, that people change and that one action shouldn't define someone for the rest of their life
.


It's hard though, isn't it? If someone does something so dramatic, so seemingly unforgivable, something that impacts and affects your life so much, no one WANTS to forgive. Forgiving hurts. Forgiving takes time. Forgiving is difficult.

I've learnt to not hold grudges, because I'd like to be treated in the same way. There have been many times when I've needed to be forgiven - because I'm not perfect. WE are not perfect. None of us.

There are definitely things that I can completely see why someone couldn't forgive - a broken relationship with a parent, someone hurting you in some way, whether it be mentally, physically, emotionally, sexually - maybe even something worse, like being abandoned, being kicked out of home. But not forgiving drags you down too. It grabs a hold of you until you start to lose sense of who you are and where you're going.

Forgiving hurts. But not forgiving hurts too.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

OCD and other spiderwebs.

"I have CDO. It's like OCD, except all the letters are in the right order - LIKE THEY SHOULD BE!"
Funny quote, eh?
I have often read in magazines stories of teenagers who feel they have to wash their hands a certain number of times. Or have to do the exact same amount of situps every day. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - everything must be right, perfect. The same. It's something I have never really understood - how people could go to such extremes. But then last night, I was looking at my bookshelf. Sure, it was unorganised, but by no means terrible. I couldn't resist it though. I walked to my bookshelf, pulled every friggen book off the shelves and organised them into different piles - a 'like' pile, a 'dislike' pile and an 'old' pile. I stacked them up so they fit properly and then yawned. Looking down at my watch, I realised it was 20 minutes to midnight ... what the hell was I doing? I hopped into bed. I realised my cupboard was slightly ajar. I got out of bed. I shut the cupboard. I zipped up my school bag so it didn't piss me off. I jumped back into bed and proceeded to stare at the ceiling for an hour.
It's all well and good for us to not understand why people do what they do, until we're doing the exact same things that they're doing.
Sorry. Not so uplifting.
x

Friday, July 10, 2009

Just Because.

I could lay there all day ...

Fight or Flight.

This week I asked God to help me learn from the things around me, the situations that happen, the things that people say.

My dog.

Never think you would learn anything from a dog, right?

His name is Jay Jay.

Jay Jay has this intense disliking of vacuum cleaners. If one comes near him, he snaps, biting, growling, barking.
So today when I was vacuuming and it came near the back door, he did just that. But after a few snaps at the glass and he realised his howling and growling wasn't getting him anywhere, he just removed himself from the situation, went and laid down in the sun without a second glance and left me to complete my vacuuming in peace.

When YOU get into an argument with someone, do you bite back snapping? Or do you leave straight away and don't get involved? It's not flight or fight. It's something that is unnecessary.

x

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Hide and Seek

Hide and seek used to be my favourite childhood game, so long ago. Hiding was never an issue for me - I'm short. I guess usually the only thing that would give me away was my tendency to giggle whenever I heard footsteps coming directly towards me. Games like Hide and Seek have an air of innocence about them. And once that innocence is stripped away, all that is left is a small child; broken, hurting and craving someone to take the pain away.

I think that's what I do now. Associate that game with him.

Once the past is gone, you can't get it back. You can't get back what someone took from you.

I guess looking forward is the only option.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Labyrinth

There are moments when I just want to flip out.

Scream to the sky. Tear sheets of white paper up until all the pieces flutter around me like flakes of delicious snow.

I'm not crazy. Not really. I just bottle my emotions up inside of me - something that I presume the majority of human-beings do.

Sometimes I get so tired, so exhausted - mentally and physically - that I just want to give up. I don't want to deal with anything.

During those times, I have to remind myself to breathe. I have to remind myself that tough times don't last forever, that there's always a way out of the labyrinth.

I guess that I want this post to encourage you, in some strange way.
Emotions are normal. Rest is essential. When life is spinning out of control and the only option seems to be falling to your knees, give in. But don't give up.

One other thing I want to tell you today - thank you for being a part of my life.

Love, Bek x

Friday, February 6, 2009

About Me :)

I used to think that there were so many words that described me, like loud and crazy, happy-go-lucky, but really I’ve come to think that no one should be defined or bound by certain words. Sometimes I can be shy too, but I guess that’s something you wouldn’t really expect. There are days I want to live life to the full and there are other times when I just want to stay in bed all day. I’m not really a fan of the city; I’ve always been a country bumpkin, I’ve always been scared of the beach, I’ve always been a big procrastinator and I’ve always been stubborn.

I’m very indecisive, I hate making choices and sometimes I try to make others make the decision for me. I’m a vegetarian, my favourite colour is red and I love shoe shopping. I’m a book worm, a prolific talker, a lover of life, of flowers, of chances, of love. I hate being nasty to people, I hate others being nasty to people and I wish I could sort the world’s problems out.

I don’t like milk, I’m short, I adore dancing when no one is watching and singing when no one can hear ... Sometimes I wish I would never grow old because I get scared of the future and what’s to come. I’m a big fan of smiley faces, of kiddie TV shows, of rainbows, Eskimos and fairy floss. I
also eat way too many orange tic tacs.

I love being around other people, but I also love being alone. I couldn’t imagine a world without friends, or colours, ribbons, bags or stationary.

I’m scared to live, and I’m scared to die which means I’m pretty screwed.

I always think of the worst possible scenario, which generally means I’m left holding the bags while friends go and enjoy themselves.

I love rain, innocence and writing. I hope all three of those stay with me forever.

My Song Lyrics...

I stand. You take my hand.
This isn’t what you had planned
For me.
You’ve set me free.

I stood. You knew I could.
You’d never let me fall, I put my hope in you.
And as I wait, you sealed fate.
You took my guilt off me and nailed it to your cross.

And as I walk down the pathway
That led Him to that day
I wonder if I ever saw Him
What would I think to say?
He paid the price of sacrifice
On that forsaken day
The battle fought, a lesson taught
But yet there’s still today...

We watch,
as our Blameless One takes on our guilty lives,
Amazing grace,
He took our place
So He could see the joy written upon our face.

And as I walk down the pathway
That led Him to that day
I wonder if I ever saw Him
What would I think to say?
He paid the price of sacrifice
On that forsaken day
The battle fought, a lesson taught
But yet there’s still today...

Still today, we turn away.
We look to worldly things, we think He doesn’t care.
We know He’s there, His gentle touch.
He wants us to love him, He doesn’t ask for much.

We turn to Him
And we could learn from Him
And we should understand
It's what He planned ... what He planned.
© Scarlett Rose
video

The Last Dance

I pressed my hands over my ears and ran from the house, not even bothering to close the door behind me – I wasn’t going to listen to the lies that came from her mouth, I wasn’t going to listen to her tell me my Papa was gone, my hero, my mentor, my source of happiness in life.

Down the stone path I sprinted, as far away as possible, between pink and red and yellow flowers, past the fountain where the angel stood tall reaching out her hand in that comforting way, until finally I was at the clearing where he and I had come so many times, him sitting on the rock and me dancing as the sun disappeared into the majestic mountains as a milieu.

Today though, the sun was not in sight and angry grey clouds stood above me as it slowly started to sprinkle light drops of rain - I wish I had thought to bring something with me, a jumper, a blanket, a lifejacket that would keep me afloat as I drowned in my sorrow, my hopelessness, my despair.

All I had brought was myself.

I began to dance for him, as the rain fell around me.