Crimson path

You again!

I really, really hate you. I wish I could avoid you and get rid of you. But I am careful with what I wish for. Because every time you strike, it’s ‘poor me’ again.

You! How I wish you never knew me. Although I know you’re supposed to be good. You are nothing short of a curse.

How I wish I could hate you with a passion. But I can only hope for that much energy. For you make me so sleepy.

At first you give me cravings. Then you make me cranky. And after that you make me sleepy, picky. You also make me suffer. I fall ill at your hands. I can’t help but think that your only interest in me are evil plans. Yoy make me angry. And week. Though sometimes help me become humble and realise I am actually really fragile. That I nees love and care and everything I long to give, that I also deserve a caring hand.

I know you are supposed to bring me good. But I wish you were always good. Sometimes my faith gets shaken as I wonder ‘what more do I need to know and need to do God, can’t You just make it okay.’ So I don’t really talk to Him when you’re around. Because maybe I am doing something wrong.

I only wish that you are worth it. For if you prove you are not . . .I mean, I can’t only be in my twenties and already looking forward to menopause. If you actually aren’t any good, even if you are…would you please consider being kind to me.

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I know, you forget

She smiles, avoiding the stray look in his eyes. ” I know you forget how you used to look at me. From across the room, the other side of the table, and even when you were ever so close. I know you forget. How your eyes used to smother me. And I had to part my lips to take a breathe. I know you forget. You just cannot help yourself. You even forget what you used to say to me, when you held my hand. I know. How the morning dew used to wake me to your voice. It’s not that bad. You even forget how hard it was to keep my sanity when you first walked away from me. I know you do. So I remember. I remember those days, I hear the breaths and relive the feelings until your ghost is gone. And someone else sings me out of bed. I hope that by then you will forget I was never mad.” She smiles, looking straight ahead in his forgetful eyes. 

Questions

Are we going to die? Are we all going to die? But I’m scared. What if non of this ends when we do. What if it all starts over again. What will we do. Can we actually do something. Where will we go? Who will be stronger? Will it be our will or our circumstances. I don’t want to die. At least, I want my will to prevail. I want to be able to make sure that we’re all okay. That no one will fear us. That nothing will scare us. That we won’t be oppressed and won’t allow intimidation. What will become of us….The little boy’s plea died with him. One second before he could get another word out. The world ended with him. As for the afterworld…what do you think. Did he make it? Have you seen him around? 

Why do your eyes light up

Why do your eyes light up

When she enters the oh so famous room

Where everybody who is expecting anybody 

Always seems to find himself

Why do your eyes light up when hers fall into them

Why do you seek her eyes when you’re glad

Why do yours smile into hers, even when you’re feeling sad.

Why do your eyes light up and breath dreams into hers 

While your holding somebody else’s hands. 

Not so careery careerwoman

Long before I started working at 19 years old, I saw myself as a career woman. I wanted the uber busy life of work, work, work, just about enough time for pleasure and lots of succes. I have worked for it and tried..for a while. After that I got a bit confused about my own possibilities, desires and about how this world works. I thaught myself to not be naive and remain ready for every challenge. Soon enough my first job became boring. I lacked motivation and felt like there wasn’t one drop of challenge left in what I was doing. I wanted more but also could not live up to the requirements. 

It didn’t take long before the first supposedly blow struck at my second job. I never wanted to be the woman or the girl that stays at home, does all the chores, cooks and cleans, goes to the grocery store, watches tv or surfs the internet, blogs a little and so on. But something happened as my days at my first job were coming to an end. Maybe it is because I had spent so much time away from home that I really started to desire to stay home. Now I am also leaving my second job. It is a small mess that I don’t really want to talk about. The desire to be the stay at home girl seems to become stronger by the day. I don’t know how to get it out from under my skin. I still want a career and to be busy. But rather being busy with accomplishing things for people in need and things like that. Or maybe this is an invitation into what my future could look like? I don’t know. Feelings can be fleeting. But this one has been with me for over three years now. 

I am absolutely curious about what will happen in my life in the near future. As I am so sure that Christ has begun a work that He will absolutely finish. But I am so afrais that I dream too much, fear too much and don’t get up and step into the path that I am being shown so mercifully. I cannot wait for the new things, but actually I have to because I don’t think I am ready. I almost feel like I have no reason to believe I can do it. But that, ofcourse, is a lie. 

As a new year awaits me and the universe I brace myself, taking a deep breath to leap. In faith.