Dear God,

I am falling apart.


 HELP! 


-Your child 


This is what happens at 2 am, when you've been trying to sleep for 2 hours. Panic overtakes, the stress builds, the mystery of the unknown weighs and there is nothing left except a pancake version of me in a puddle. What now, where now. I don't want to be here, in this state. This isn't how it is supposed to be. At least that's what "they" say. They being the ones whose lives are falling apart.  I act like I am new at this; but I'm a regular. 


"One venti mental breakdown with 2 pumps of tears, easy on the snot please. I am watching my appearance."






 I am lost and all I want is to be found.

Kye Kye- Walking this

walking this

 Kye Kye's- Young Love.

Lyrics:
Closest friend, i'm lost in love, (Mat.22:37)(1Jo.4:19)
to know what you've done and why it's solved (2Ptr1:3 & 3:18)(Heb.10:10&14)(2Cor.5:17&21)
this perfect love, i'm dressed in grace (Ro.5:1-2)
to hear your voice in truth displayed (Jon.17:8 & 10:27-28)

Elude myself my heart aligned (1Thes.5:23) (Gal.5:16, 25 & 2:20)
weightless steps, wind through the chimes (Mat.11:29-30)
know who I am, through you I find (Ro.6:5-6)
peace of mind

I'm a river that's meant for flowing
I'm a moon that's meant for lighting the night
I'm the wind that's loud and soaring
I'm a tree that's tall and growing
I'm a fire that lights whatever's in sight
I'm the rain that's fast and pouring.
(Ps.37:4)(Gal.2:20)(Jon.4:34)

Tamed tongue, you're the words in my head (Jas.3:3-12)(1ptr.3:10)
you're a soft drum I hear, I can't wait (1kgs.19:12-13)
i'm nourished by the steps that I take
I find it in the way that you gave ... you gave (Jon.4:34)

Breakfast Diaries: I never wanna break up with you

I go to bed thinking about breakfast.

At least this is true for last night, I went to the gym, had a midnight snack and then thought, "man I can't wait for breakfast."

I love breakfast dates. I will never not go to one. I remember one time I went on one at 6 a.m. when I had only gone to bed at 3 or 4. I hate mornings though.  This might be a crazy thing.

Southern Breakfasts are my favorite. Anything smothered in gravy. nom. nom. nom.

Lately, I've been on a Green onion kick. Actually, let's be honest. When cooking for one, you have to be on at least a week kick because then produce goes bad. So green onions have been going in EVERYTHING.

For instance, my Tuesday breakfast. Banana, because they are going bad soon; An egg, chili pepper, green onion, grilled tomato and Trader's Joe's variation of South African flavor (this one is still questionable for me); Coffee, there is always coffee.

creative outlets

Release me, release me, set me free.



I'm a rather visual/metaphorical person. I often time visual my emotions. There are pros and cons to this.

The last few weeks have been quite gloomy. I kind of felt like I had a permanent raincloud over my head that never seemed to go away and fail on my part. I had no umbrella or rainboots to prepare for what I was going through.

If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

Given, I wasn't doing my part in the situation. I was sluggishly accepting what was happening to me. I was losing the battle. A once foreign concept to me. I almost always have a little fight in me.

I was lacking in writing. I even had a good friend, well I kind of consider him an older brother, try to subtly tell me, "Hey, this is what you should do."

Non-committal, commitment phobe or layman's terms, "SHE HATES COMMITMENT."

This is something I hear rather frequently, almost jokingly. Until, I stayed at one of my highschool mentor's houses the other night driving through Oakland and I explained to her how I'm being and she replies with "Some things just don't change."

I was taken aback by it. This isn't a funny joke anymore.

Rewind a bit, back the the older brother figure. He simply told me, "It always helps me to write it down, just to get it out."

Now, you know those phrases "When I say this; I really mean this"

Him and I were discussing the day but what we were really getting to was a more understanding of my life.

He was right. Stubborn Sam just continued on though. Not even a crack open in my journal.

As days pass, my slump increased.

Until, this weekend.

I would like to call this a prison retreat.

There were pros and cons. Essentially, from Friday night until Sunday afternoon, I didn't even come close to leaving my apartment.

I hardly got out of bed.

But in the back of my head, I had this image of how I was feeling. What it was doing to me.

It needed to be released.

I was suppressed. 

Friday night, I get home around midnight and I was up until 5 am-- laying the groundworks for a painting/art journal on canvas.

Saturday, I was at it again.

Once, it was released and understood visually.

I felt weight being lifted.

putting my words into cyberspace

I've always be fairly comfortable with what I say to the cyberworld. Not that I'm broadcasting to every single person who has a blog that my blog exists.

I don't have anything to hide. I also feel like it is a "safe" space.

Because there is triumph and trial and I don't necessarily have to depend on someone other than my close friends feeling the need to grab my by my shoulders and shake me out of whatever state I am in at the moment. I use it as a place to process.

I can somehow motivate myself to type a blog over writing. (also, I've misplaced my journal within the last couple days-- which that is more of a tragedy than a lost online blog.)

Ever since I can remember I've struggled with "safety." In all shapes and forms but mainly the safety in trust and I don't trust everyone with everything.



So here I am struggling if I want to close up or simply write meaningless words. Which goes against the grain of most things I believe in.

Or do I just carry on, keep writing and cringe knowing that some of my deepest darkest thoughts are in the hands of people I'd rather not know.

Decisions, decisions.

Now on to being Proactive.