avidofpathology's Blog

*****First of all, DO NOT POST RUDE OR INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS TOWARDS A CERTAIN PERSON OR GROUP OF PEOPLE. This is not an opportunity to bash anyone's opinion because we're all entitled to having one, so please don't bother commenting here if you are just looking to be an offensive prick.******

 

For my Advanced Composition class, I've decided to write a paper on Evolution in a non-threatening, Rogerian styled argument. To successfully address the key components that classify an argument as Rogerian, I find it beneficial to hear various opinions from both sides of the dispute. I am looking for anyone to give me their two cents about either side of the topic or maybe even a common ground found between the two sides. Like I said, this is not a chance to attack someone's opinion, reasoning, or religion because that is not my point for doing this project. I understand that it is quite rare to truly change someone's mind on a topic like this. Therefore, I want to make it clear that my purpose for writing this paper is simply to compel the reader to CONSIDER a certain aspect of my argument that they had no prior knowledge of; in other words, expose them to information that they may have not had the chance or desire to look into. I am in no means trying to be a manipulator on this subject matter. I believe that both sides can share a common ground to an extent.

 

With all of that said, feel free to explain why/how you have come to your conclusion on the topic as well as any influences that are/were a part of your opinion. 

----- Thanks everyone!

--- This was written for an Advanced Writing class in order to describe my ideology and how I view the world. In addition, we were to explain who influenced these views and why.
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Mom,
               I’ve been asked to compose a piece of writing that reflects the way that I see the world and why I am the way that I am, and I’m going to take a route that some people may find silly. Little are they aware that writing to you used to be my way of getting through anything at all. The vast majority of my worldviews resonate from just knowing you, having you around to educate me on life and gifting me with your profound love for family. When revisiting that time in my life, where writing to you offered me my only bits of peace, reassurance, and hope, I am blessed with the memory of knowing you knew me better than anyone. My 14 year old self wanted nowhere else to turn but to you; dependable Mom. Without my ability to step out of this realm, a comfort zone to many, and into a space of wishful thinking between here and there, I may have never handled the grief as maturely as I did. I have you to thank for every stride of motivation, courage, and strength I take confidently. You are my base of support; my best friend; my guardian angel.
              On days where the world appears to be nothing but an impassable, cloud of disaster, I take a trip back to the peace and comfort I found within those days of writing; the days that are responsible for the beginning of my betterment in communication. To this day, writing remains – fortunately and unfortunately – my strongest means of communication. While death is never thought of as a good thing, I truly believe there are rays of light hidden in its dark nature. For me, a grief-stricken teenager just a few months shy of beginning high school, I found the light when I learned to express myself at a time where I desperately needed to. Despite the fact that I lived with a father who adored me - and an eight-year-old brother who deep down knew that his older sister was pretty cool- the lack of successful verbal communication took a toll on me. I gradually began to understand the magnitude of your absence. I missed your laugh, your smile, our talks, and most importantly your support. So as I write this letter to you, Mom, I take every ounce of your importance in my life and evolve it into proving that you are still loved so deeply by me and that if I could say just one thing to you, it would be “Thank you”.
            The life you gave to me growing up is something I will cherish as I eventually find myself raising my own children someday. Your grandchildren will be told stories of a wonderful woman with a heart incapable of hate and a companionship to completely and utterly die for. They will know this woman to have had a heart so genuinely filled with affection that had she still been here on this earth, would provide them with a supply of love and adoration that is unfathomable. My children will be educated with the same principles of life that you so successfully instilled in my heart, and although yours no longer beats with the rhythm of this world, they will know you adore them.
           
           I want to take you through a couple of memories in my cranial vault that involve you, Mom. Two days in particular that I so desperately wish I could return to. The first one is a day that I think about every now and then and painfully wish that I could recall it clearer than I am able to. I am unsure of the date, but I know it was not long before you left this earth. It was our last family trip to the beach, and the only thing pushing the memory forward is a picture of us in the water - Dad, Shiloh, and me. You always declined a request to have your picture taken as you got older, but I still remember exactly what you wore that day. Come to think of it, I even recall the day you bought the outfit because I was with you. To this day, the contrast between the warmth of your yellow and orange ensemble and the ocean’s cool palette stands so intensely in my mind when I reminisce. I just wish that my immediate memory of that day at the beach was not you being the unfortunate target for a seagull overhead because I know there are some beautiful inaccessible memories of that summer day. Had I known it would be one of our last memories together, maybe I would have expressed just how cool of a mom I thought you were, instead of being too “cool” myself to admit how much I adored you. …You know, I think it might have been August 2003…
           More so than that gorgeous summer day, I frequently turn my mind to the memory of my last birthday spent with you, just four, short months before your death. You were always my biggest fan, I am sure of this, and the remembrance of my 14th birthday continuously reinforces that theory of mine. Although the memory is beginning to fade, I will never forget how lovely of a birthday it was. Maybe I am just biased since it was my last birthday with you, but I truly do recall having a wonderful time. You would probably be surprised to know that I still have the ticket stubs from the movie theater. The words “Cheaper By the Dozen” are fading at the same rate as my memory of the day is, but nevertheless, I am reminded of a blissful time with friends and family that I love with all of my heart.
 
       As much as I would like to claim that it gets easier each year, I still have those days where I wishfully gaze at the front door, longing for the image of you walking in carrying groceries…A motion picture that I still feel is so familiar and real. Depending on my mood or what my day may entail, something like this may be a result of missing you. I still find comfortableness and peace in writing and find myself turning to writing before verbally communicating with loved ones. Whether that quality of mine is good or bad, I am unsure, but for now, it continues to help build and portray my view of the world. Let me take you through a closer look at my ideology:
            The view of the world from inside looking out is astonishing and refreshing. 
 That thin sheet of transparent barrier separates our bodies from here and there…but only that. The mind wanders. You find yourself viewing nature from a distance; placing yourself out there despite your confinement to the classroom. You suddenly discover that you're complacent towards the awareness of your daydreaming. You're on vacation, headed East towards infinity. 
             People are walking. I decide to walk with them; creating opinions about their lives, the type of people they are. My physical state isn't present by their side so they won't notice me.
             The lecture goes on, however, you decipher what is real at that point in time and promptly disregard it unintentionally. The world out there is strangely more soothing despite the quiet atmosphere and hum of human energy held in the room. You can vaguely imagine the unheard thoughts residing in each and every student’s mind, including your own. For some reason, they're more noticeable than the erratic heartbeat outside the glass. The escape is beyond inevitable. 
              I witness the buses ascend themselves slowly down the streets of complete and utter chaos, just trying to get by. - Human nature in the form of a 12-ton hunk of metal; fascinating. 
             Come out of the cold, return to the classroom. You contemplate the reasons for the chaos and begin to create your own chaos in attempt to understand how it even happens. 
             Chaos mimics that one moment...the moment where the clasp suddenly breaks apart after repeated use; abuse. Gravity takes hold, and every single pearl falls violently to the ground; dispersing and searching for the order it held so tightly seconds earlier. 
                         ---Chaos...just like that.
… May 12, 2004, around 3:30 in the afternoon; the day that our mother-daughter bond was so abruptly shattered, Mom, an indisputable form of chaos. The sudden and unexpected nature of your death left not even the memory of your warmest smile capable of melting the icy grip on my heart. At that single-most painful moment in my life, I joined a new and gravely unfamiliar group that I never in a million years thought I would be a part of. Just like that, the support of two loving parents – a birthright of every child – was hastily cut short. With every echo of the approaching ambulance, my mind fell apart; forming a pile filled of hopelessness, confusion, anger, and heart-wrenching pain. I was forever changed; the world froze.
      Had I started out this letter with statements like the above, I may have lost our readers immediately, Mom. I write this letter to prove that I have come a long way. To prove that losing a loved one does not have to remain as painful as it began. I started out as a heart broken teenager, and with your guidance, faith in me, and your unforgettable love, I became the woman I am today. I am certainly your daughter, and for that, I am proud.
       I love you, and I miss you.
              Love, Madyson

I sometimes have a moment where I want nothing at all.

I don't want to feel, hear, see, or do anything. I want the world to stop. I want my life's capacity to be temporarily full. I don't want to move on with school. Get married. Grow up. ...Nothing. During this, I wish I could just exist in a realm where everything is still, and I don't have to worry about a thing. A place where I can gather my thoughts and return to reality when I feel I am able to handle this crazy world again. A place where no one is there but myself; my own worst enemy.

In this place, I tango with myself and truly learn what it is that makes me so unhappy during this time of wanting nothing. Or why I long for this nothingness at all. It's not even a thought of suicide that drives it. It's a sense of doing anything to escape the stress, the heartache, the ignorance - just for a moment. All of which created because of my inability to accept the fact that I need to wake up.. To listen to myself again. Start realizing that this isn't working. My way of "living" will be the death of me, I know this. But do I? Why haven't I done anything about it yet?

I can sit here and write for hours about how dumb I've been. How utterly immature and selfish I've been to the people who care about me the most. Robbing them of their desire to be the wonderful person they are to me. I could write for hours, but I can't do that anymore. 

I have got to find a way to wake myself up. 

Here I am again. Staring out the window at the bitter air and almost bare trees- just to barge through the glass to find a plane of peace I can't seem to obtain on my own. I see people walking and decide to walk with them. Being with them gives me the opportunity to leave myself behind for a moment; to flee the storm. 

You now find yourself existing in a blizzard; surrounded by a realm of chaos that is eerily quiet but clearly present. The stress feels smothered though; muted - Much different from the boisterous thunderstorm of your conscious, which remains on the other side. You begin to feel weightless and in turn, relaxed. At the same time, you feel as though you're slowly being pulled back through the transparent barrier. 

*whistles*--  "Hello??"

     Who's talking to me? This is a fabricated world in which I've placed myself unseen; anonymous. These people shouldn't acknowledge my presence. I'm just here to walk with them - to have a place to harbor my feelings and help myself feel like I'm not pushing away every individual that crosses my path. This is supposed to be a means of running away. 

You take a look around and suddenly realize that everything is quiet; visually and acoustically. Everyone has disappeared now, leaving you with a great sense of confusion. The chaos is absent as if its cold hands had released their grip around the warmth within yourself. This seemingly untraceable voice has caused a ripple of peace to pass through and stimulate your knowledge of what can truly calm the storm.

Now, come out of the cold. This isn't the place nor the group of people to rely on, and you know it.

"...Hey, welcome back."

                                          -- “I don’t have the time to write anymore."

 

           And then I closed my eyes and relived everything that justified the thought of
                                                                                  writing in the first place.

                                                                     Tuesday.

                                                    A day of thinking. Hours of chaos.

                                         And minutes spent wondering why each second

                                                     does more damage than the last.

 

                    The words don’t come out the way they used to. They’ve lost their shine;

            their consistency – maybe time has tarnished [my] their vitality.

                                      They’re barely words anymore; Every letter for himself. 

 

                          The discovery of a sequence that has been synchronized with peace

                                                           seems excessively distant,

                                                                  while the ache

                                                                        of the

                                                                      present

                                                                           is

                                                                        crush

                                                                         -ing.

I opened them and realized 
that holding my thoughts as prisoners justifies the necessity of writing. Releasing. Talking.

Alright, so, I'm not sure anyone on here knows this or not, but I have a boyfriend named Mike who I've been dating for 5 years, this August. For the past fews months, we both have noticed a decline in our relationship due to poor communication and simply busy schedules. (I'm a full time Biology major, and he has a high demanding job that keeps him working pretty much 7 days a week.) Lately, however, it has seemed worse than it ever has been, but not worse in the sense that we don't seem ok on the surface. We never argue, which I've come to realize is unhealthy because of the lack of communication, but we have kinda turned our backs on each other here and there. Overall, it just seems our relationship has become a bit black and white.

Because we both have expression issues and hate the idea of confrontation, that's where the poor communication comes into play. Our personal pasts offer us nothing but secrets and misunderstandings which places one another in the same ditch. We can easily relate to each other with this, yet, it's still so hard for us to communicate. Why?

About a month and a half ago, I brought it to his attention via text message, while I was at work, that I felt like he wasn't happy and that our relationship seemed friend-based; he agreed and decided to add, "To be honest, I miss being single sometimes." Do guys often think this when in a long term relationship? Do we all subconsciously ponder that and the 'what ifs'? I don't know, but we talked about it the next day where he comforted me and my inevitable sadness to the thought of breaking up and explained that, "We're fine, sweetie. Trust me. We'll get through it." I wanted to believe him after it being said to me roughly 6 times that night, but I still had doubt. The doubt stayed with me until today, before a small 'breakthrough' - maybe - and I'm not sure how to decipher our next approach. I explained to him at work today that I still felt uneasy about us and that I missed the way we used to be; I wanted to make things better. He replied with, "Yeah, I feel the same."

Aside from the current issue, when we're together, we act like little kids with each other a lot. My friends actually make fun of me because of the little kid talk Mike and I do to one another. We make forts out of blankets and hide from each other, just to jump out  and scare them, when one goes upstairs for a minute. It's obvious that we care about each other, but the little things like holding hands  and quick "love you's" at the end of messages seem absent. I haven't been in this long of a relationship before, so I have a hard time judging situations and emotions because I can't compare it to another long relationship. 

...We're gonna try 'starting over' or 'starting fresh'.

Does this work? Do people even still do this? Better yet, will it last or will it require us to press the reset button again in 5 years? - I just don't know, so I'd like your opinion. I know it's difficult to give advice to someone you don't know well, especially about someone you don't know at all, but anything would be appreciated. 

I like to envision one’s dream life being just as real and true to the mind as wakefulness, but one just cannot begin to remember the reality of it. In Jorge Luis Borges' story from his book Collected Fictions, that I've recently returned into my life, lies my favorite story, “The Circular Ruins”. Basically, a man progressively creates a youthful figure in his dream state as a sense of company on a deserted beach. Several nights later, to his astonishment, he dreams once again only to discover that the boy he dreamt into existence was dreaming of him, thus making the man just an illusion to the boy, as well. They created each other; that just astonishes me to no end.
...Could it be plausible that a certain person solely exists because another human being unconsciously created them, bringing out their existence? 
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....Ever have one of those dreams where you have absolutely no idea who someone in it is, yet, they seem so accustomed to your existence; it's like they've known you forever? Yeah, me too...Wake up baffled and wondering, "Who the HELL was that?"...
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I find it hard to believe that a theory that bizarre would seem unappealing to the human mind or undesirable to want to know more. Dreams have enthralled scientists for centuries, and I can understand why. I'd do anything to fully understand my dreams, but it's a concept that remains insolvable, unfortunately. 
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I find myself asking this a lot: Are we "real" just because someone said we are? If that's the case, then what isn't "real" at some point or another?

As Mother's Day approaches, I find myself in a familiar slump. It's going to be 7 years since you shared your last laugh with me, and with each passing year comes another bout of shock and disbelief - you were so young, Mom. I was so young.
-----
I see you every time I look in the mirror, and it tortures me. I just want to come home after school, open my front door, and see you sitting with Colleen on the couch; thrilled that your surprise visit worked as planned. You were always a planner -  a great one. I miss that. 
-----
I wish you could have met Mike -  in person, that is -  I know you know him, and I hope you love him as much as I do; he really is a wonderful guy. But I'm sure you know this. You always knew everything..found out everything. - Like a good mom should. You gave me this unfathomable amount of comfort and love. I love you, Mom.
-----
So, as this dreadful time of year becomes closer and closer, I have a growing confidence in knowing that you're here. I thank you for everything you've ever been to me and everything you are to me now. You are the most wonderful person in my life, and it's no wonder that you seek out to find people, close to me, to speak through. I hear your words everyday.  - You still manage to guide me through this roller coaster life of mine. I refuse to believe that you're gone.
-----
...What I would do to have you sit on this couch with me right now...
-----
Just think of our time apart as a chance to build up the much needed strength in order to provide me with the longest, overdue hug in the history of nostalgia, someday.  - Wait for me.
-----
I love you so much. 

How unexpectedly people around us seem to alter our perspective towards decisions and advancement; provoked by the lack of allowance to be taken for granted any longer. Not giving up, but moving on becomes required. 

The mind works in mysterious ways, allowing us the freedom and admission to think for ourselves despite the subconscious that taunts our thoughts during the process of every decision we make. "Is this really what I want or what I WANT to want?" 

The hidden power lies within the ability to surpass that silent voice when need be. 
Natural and originally desired thought processes need the boot when time calls for an inevitably needed change. Especially if those ideas were in control for so long with no improvement of your well-being. In retrospect, that gut feeling and instinct is significant, no doubt. Either way, belief in yourself, when it is known that change of intuition is necessary, will aid in no regret later.

Trust is everything, more so when it comes down to ourselves. Confide in yourself before and more than anyone else.

With others, loyalty falls into a win/lose situation; either given and returned or given and ignored; coating illusion with a persuasive twist for control. Trust...reliance..loyalty.. can be such a waste of time but is undoubtedly difficult to let go of when you're a generally caring individual. ...Surpass that silent voice. See past your loyalty and come to terms with the absence of life and care you attained in return. 


Note to self: You deserve better.


Things change. 
...Welcome the ability to move on; to be stronger; to be independent. 

"Pt. I: A Devoted Stare, and Suddenly I'm There"

The view of the world from inside looking out is astonishing and refreshing. 

 

That thin sheet of transparent barrier separates our bodies from here and there.. but only that. The mind wanders. You find yourself viewing nature from a distance; placing yourself out there despite your confinement to the classroom. You suddenly discover that you're complacent towards the awareness of your daydreaming. You're on vacation, headed East towards infinity. 

 

People are walking. I decide to walk with them; creating opinions about their lives, the type of people they are. My physical state isn't present by their side so they won't notice me.

 

The lecture goes on, however, you decipher what is real at that point in time and promptly disregard it unintentionally. The world out there is strangely more soothing despite the quiet atmosphere and hum of human energy held in the room. You can vaguely imagine the unheard thoughts residing in each and every students' mind, including your own. For some reason, they're more noticeable than the erratic heartbeat outside the glass. The escape is beyond inevitable. 

 

I witness the buses ascend themselves slowly down the streets of complete and utter chaos, just trying to get by. - Human nature in the form of a 12 ton hunk of metal; fascinating. 

 

Come out of the cold, return to the classroom. You contemplate the reasons for the chaos and begin to create your own chaos in attempt to understand how it even happens. 

 

Chaos mimics that one moment..the moment where the clasp suddenly breaks apart after repeated use; abuse. Gravity takes hold, and every single pearl falls violently to the ground; dispersing and searching for the order it held so tightly seconds earlier. 

 

 

---Chaos...just like that.

 

---------------------------------------------

 

"Pt. II: That Devoted Stare Will Make You Aware"

 

"The view of the world from inside looking out is astonishing and refreshing."
 

Your Subconscious beams through that thin sheet of transparent barrier and settles somewhere in the midst of your chaos, ready to guide you through it; it's fueling your strength, and you don't even know it.

 

The noticeable intellect of your mind desperately bumps through that erratic heartbeat, behind the glass, in order to surpass the chaos and approach the calming waters. You're attempting to track down Serenity; firm on not falling behind, you fail to stop and analyze the reason for the chaos - fear- you just barge through;... denying its existence. After all, it's unacceptable for you to be afraid, right? 

 

No longer have you been confined to those deep blue, plastic seats or the unstable nature of your restless thoughts and the way they seemed to search for 'perfection' by leaving the classroom. You walked with those people but presumed you had learned nothing. Now you've substituted curiosity with the longing to surface the evidence of your inner happiness.

 

Were those seemingly reserved people too busy discerning their own lives or were their quiet souls trying to tell you to turn around, go back, and learn yours?   

 

 

Listen to Me, the most influential guide is yourself.

 

---------------------------------------------

 

"Pt. III: Hidden Strength"

 

"Were those seemingly reserved people too busy discerning their own lives or were their quiet souls trying to tell you to turn around, go back, and learn yours?"  

 

They were walking; I decided to walk with them. I created opinions regarding their lives, the type of people they were. My physical state never appeared by their side; instead, I lurked inside - trying to be their power source; their unknown energy - exhume every possible heartache from their soul to be released into the air of the chaos; to be carried away by the wind; consumed and erased by their Subconscious. 

 

I am their Subconscious.

This is your Subconscious. 

 

...The untraceable source of seemingly extra terrestrial encouragement, wisdom, love, - more importantly, strength. The outside infrastructure of self-awareness that beats through the erratic rhythm of everyday apprehension just to make its way down the road of being real; helpful; worthy of being listened to. 

 

I carried your happiness until it was able to thrive with you.

You created those people... We both did. 

Those people were you because of Me.

I brought you to Me.

 

 

Now, listen:

The most influential guide is Me.

Yourself.

The view of the world from inside looking out is astonishing and refreshing. 

That thin sheet of transparent barrier separates our bodies from here and there.. but only that. The mind wanders. You find yourself viewing nature from a distance; placing yourself out there despite your confinement to the classroom. You suddenly discover that you're complacent towards the awareness of your daydreaming. You're on vacation, headed East towards infinity. 

People are walking. I decide to walk with them; creating postulations regarding their life, the type of person they are. My physical state isn't present by their side so they won't notice me.

The lecture goes on, however, you decipher what is real at that point in time and promptly disregard it unintentionally. The world out there is strangely more soothing despite the quiet atmosphere and hum of human energy held in the room. You can vaguely imagine the unheard thoughts residing in each and every students' mind, including your own. For some reason, they're more noticeable than the erratic heartbeat outside the glass. The escape is beyond inevitable. 

I witness the buses ascend themselves slowly down the streets of complete and utter chaos, just trying to get by. - Human nature in the form of a 12 ton hunk of metal; fascinating. 

Come out of the cold, return to the classroom. You contemplate the reasons for the chaos and begin to create your own chaos in attempt to understand how it even happens. 

Chaos mimics that one moment..the moment where the clasp suddenly breaks apart after repeated use; abuse. Gravity takes hold, and every single pearl falls violently to the ground; dispersing and searching for the order it held so tightly seconds earlier. 

 

---Chaos...just like that. 

"The view of the world from inside looking out is astonishing and refreshing."
- "Chaos."- Madyson Claire VanHyll


Your Subconscious beams through that thin sheet of transparent barrier and settles somewhere in the serenity of your mind; it's fueling your strength, and you don't even know it.

The noticeable intellect of your mind desperately bumps through the erratic heartbeat behind the glass in order to conquer the chaos and get to the calming water; not once does it stop and analyze the reason for the chaos - fear- it just barges through; ignoring it... denying its existence. It yearns for the reward without overcoming the obstacles. 


No longer have I been confined to those deep blue, plastic seats or the unstable nature of my restless thoughts and the way they seemed to search for 'perfection' by leaving the classroom. Taking a walk with Serenity; people who didn't even know that I was there. Was I wishing to learn about the life given to them or were their quiet souls trying to tell me to turn around, go back, and learn mine? 
...I've been taking walks with myself this entire time. 



The most rewarding teacher is yourself.

First of all, Happy Mother's Day to everyone.

 

Personally, being 20, sometimes I can't wait to be a mother even though I'm aware of the inevitable pain that will eventually follow once I leave my kids behind someday. Not having my mom around for 6 years, watching the pain grow, yet the love grow simultaneously, makes me realize how instantly things can change. How quickly the unexpected has suddenly fallen in front of you. "It's not fair." - Oh, the many times that has rolled off my tongue.

But nonetheless, I have done nothing but have a smile on my face as much as I could today. Working in a restaurant makes you aware of the happiness that family brings to people, especially on a day like today. I saw so many young kids with their mothers, just enjoying her presence and love. It compels me to smile even though I can't have lunch with mine. 

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. Your love surrounds me each day I'm alive. You said hi to me at 11:04 this morning..

...I love you, too. Goodnight. 

Sometimes the edge serves
As more than a friend
Than you thought it would be,
And the pages you write
In your journal each night
Are your only release.
And the mask you put on
It's like words in a song
But there's more to be seen.
And the failures you see
Don't seem failures to me here at all.

Alone as you walk
Through a crowd, and it's awkward
Like nobody sees
And you can't help but wonder
Would anyone come after you
If you'd leave.
So a pain grows inside
And a fear comes alive
Like you'll never be free,
But there's no pain you feel
That I know love can't heal here at all.

There's nothing to run from
Oh
There's nothing but fear inside you
Oh
I just hope I can find you
And tell you that I know you'll smile again.

 

 

I love you, CEM. I am here forever. 

"You Raise Me Up". A song by Josh Groban that rips apart my heart in the greatest way feasible. It was my mother's favorite song, and inevitably the song that still and always will bring astronomical amounts of tears to my eyes. However, lately, I've come to the realization why I've been missing her so much. My best friend, undoubtedly, has her eyes. It's like my mother's soul is staring back at me everyday; it's incredible yet somewhat disheartening to have the feeling of her presence seem so alive again but unable to be seen in its full extent. 

    

----------------------

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

There is no life - no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But when you come and I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;

You raise me up: To more than I can be.

 

The view of the world from inside looking out is astonishing and refreshing. 

That thin sheet of transparent barrier separates our bodies from here and there.. but only that. The mind wanders. You find yourself viewing nature from a distance; placing yourself out there despite your confinement to the classroom. You suddenly discover that you're complacent towards the awareness of your daydreaming. You're on vacation, headed East towards infinity. 

People are walking. I decide to walk with them; creating postulations regarding their life, the type of person they are. My physical state isn't present by their side so they won't notice me.

The lecture goes on, however, you decipher what is real at that point in time and promptly disregard it unintentionally. The world out there is strangely more soothing despite the quiet atmosphere and hum of human energy held in the room. You can vaguely imagine the unheard thoughts residing in each and every students' mind, including your own. For some reason, they're more noticeable than the erratic heartbeat outside the glass. The escape is beyond inevitable. 

I witness the buses ascend themselves slowly down the streets of complete and utter chaos, just trying to get by. - Human nature in the form of a 12 ton hunk of metal; fascinating. 

Come out of the cold, return to the classroom. You contemplate the reasons for the chaos and begin to create your own chaos in attempt to understand how it even happens. 

Chaos mimics that one moment..the moment where the clasp suddenly breaks apart after repeated use; abuse. Gravity takes hold, and every single pearl falls violently to the ground; dispersing and searching for the order it held so tightly seconds earlier. 

 

 ---Chaos...just like that. 

Well, looks like I've, yet again, become a conformist. Another social networking site, Madyson, really? Get a life.

...I've been thinking about my mom a lot tonight. It truly does not and will not become easier without her. It's still unbelievably difficult to grasp the reality of her death, and I really wish it wasn't. I just want so much to know in my heart that she's still at our house in Lititz, with my dad and brother, hoping that I had a good day today.

I know she's still around.

 

-- I love you so very much, and I miss you.