A Life Worth Living

My Beliefs...My Doubts...My Dedication...My Life.

June 30, 2005

The following posts are my raw emotion from every angle...Some posts provide hope, while others are more melancholy in state. If you can't deal with it, please don't read it.

June 25, 2005

Me siento así que perdido, incluso después de todos estos años. Intento esperar a escuchar la voz del dios, pero no oigo nada.
Se ha roto mi espejo pero la voz todavía está en mi cabeza.
"Sin valor, indeseado, usted no importa a cualquier persona."
Lucho tan difícilmente, así que perder difícilmente la voz que me corta a los pieces, pero soy cansado. Deseo ser el ganador, pero no puedo competir con más.
Dios, deseo dar para arriba. Entregúeme por favor, me dan la seguridad, algo. No puedo oír su voz más. Y ese sustos yo más que cualquier cosa.

June 06, 2005

The Girl

A Crayola sun scribbled on paper with long, green lines for grass. Blue V's adorn the sky, joined with fuzzy cotton balls glued to a page.
This was her life.

Grey linoleum that bounces back when you hop on it. Long, wooden tubes nailed into walls. Pale pink legs with cotton slippers dance across the floor, praying for the teachers approval.
This was her life.

Yelling substitutes for an alarm clock. That's how the Girl knows it's time for school. Don't hurt her, stop. Fingerprints left the neck of someone she cares about, but no marks...they're easy to hide. Is this the same Daddy that plays Dinosaur with the Girl and sings to her about dreaming as she falls asleep? Can he really treat two people that differently? The Girl would realize as she grew up that he treated them the same.
This was her life.

Five red and blue lights cover the house, lighting up the summer sky reminiscent of fireworks. The Girl's heart is in her throat. Her shaky hands attempting to cover her eyes, but what's the point? She's smart, she knew what happened. She doesn't sleep, She doesn't want to talk. She's fearful of Daddy...was that Mommy's plan? Who cares. She's a kid from a broken home now.
This was her life.

Bones characterize the perfect body. Her sharp jawline, concave stomach and rib-exposed back define her security. The more he touches her, the tinier she wishes to become. The Girl feels like a whore, yet she never tells. She becomes frozen, out of her body and looking at the scene. She's dead when he feels her. Caresses, kisses, hugs, groping...they don't define love, but rather express one man's perverted desires. The Girl receives presents and approval but at what price? It doesn't matter anymore, she's already dead inside.
This was her life.

Crimson wrists created by any sharp object. The deeper the cut, the less it hurt. Stars, words, lines...anything to remove pain on the inside. At times, the crimson is camouflaged by gauze covering a web of lies. As the pain intensifies, so does the web. After all, they can't know. The Girl trusts no one anymore, no one except her coping strategies.
This was her life.

A long night coming. It was bound to happen. School became too much, life had become exhausting. The Girl went back on her promise. She picked up the habit once laid at the altar of the Most High. She didn't want to go on. But something stopped her. Someone stood in the gap. Someone perhaps worthy of her trust.

Serving a God who is all knowing, all powerful and all loving, the Girl becomes wrapped up in His arms and protected. The vices are still out there, wanting to creep in. Wanting to once again gain control. But this Girl isn't willing to compromise anymore. Too much is expected of her for her to falter again. But just in case, she knows she can fall into the arms of a loving Daddy from above. Her past is in the past and she's moving on. She is His child now. She is perfect, daughter of a King.
This is her life.

June 05, 2005

The Mirror

I used to carry a mirror around
everywhere I went. That mirror
dictated my every move. How I felt, how I
talked, how I loved others. That
mirror reminded me that my life was
According to the mirror, I would always carry
baggage, I would never be more
than my past. You can only live liked a caged
bird for so long. You come to a
point when you decide to forever stay caged
and stay with the familiar things,
however painful or you decide to break
free and explore uncharted territory,
however scary.
One day, I decided to break free. I
smashed my mirror into bits and for once,
didn't pick up the pieces. After
all, the only thing you can see in a mirror is
what is behind you. Stop
reminding yourself of how bad it is and start looking
out the window to see
what is before you.
My past will NOT dictate my future...Will yours?

June 04, 2005

I'll Believe It When It's True

"I'll believe it when it's true,"
she says to me.
"It is True!" I yell at her.
I'm ok, I'm ok, I'm ok. If I say this enough to myself, will I believe it?
I'm better than before, so much stronger now, much
more solid.

But there's still a part of me that
hurts every now and then. Is that normal?

Why don't I know my own self? Why
the heck does she know me better than myself?

I don't want to be real. I want to be the strong one
for a change, but I never am. People like it when you're real, but I don't want
them to see me.

I feel like a loser, numbed out on
five different meds just to make me function normally.
Maybe I'm better this way, but some
stuff just won't go away. Maybe that's what a diagnosis of depression is.
"I'll believe it when it's true."
It is true...
i just don't want to
burdon you

June 02, 2005


To My Dear Friend of 3 Years...Please Get Better Soon.
As I wipe the tears from her chestnut eyes, It hurts me to watch the fear, frustration and sadness she holds deep inside.

I want to take it all away and make things how they were, but the past is the past and the future seems unsure.

Tears fall on my pillow each night not for me, but for the one I fear I'm losing, the perfect hope she cannot see.

I'm afraid I'll never see her face light up again, not the way it used to anyways. The brilliant sparkle vanished from her gaze...but I trust it's only sleeping, that God will restore in future days.

All I wanna do is hold her and carry all the weight...my forgiveness that I can't. My heart breaking with each tear she cries, the hopelessness inside her I cannot take.

I feel safe in her arms, knowing no danger could ever come to me. The feelings of security, serenity and peace I hope that she can see.

This may be a song, a poem or a letter from me to her. But rather, it's a promise to a best friend who stayed in my times of trouble and helped me to see my cure.

I'm always and forever here, she knows I'll always stay. But as each new day comes, I wonder if her pain will ever go away.

My hope is to get her thru clouds and times of sorrow and rain. For on the other side stands her Savior, who will love her thru the pain.

This is My Rainbow

Storms come and for awhile, we walk
through the fog.
But there's always a break in the clouds where a rainbow appears.
Right now, by God's grace, I'm living life in that