Karma Was Here

Give me something I can put my faith in.

Give me a distraction.

Give me attention.

I'm going to be so different.  I will be better, stronger, more grown up.  Maybe a better friend.  And a better lover.  Or a better fighter.  I will be brave.  I will be confident.  I will.

Night after night and day after day, I look to the wrong person when I loose my way.

Oh you are a little girl.  Pretending to be things you see.  Asking what things you can take.  Well you'll scream and you'll fight with it, fake and desire for it, but you will never ever be happy.

Give me something I can feel right about.

Give me a reason to grow old.

Give me pride in myself and for the things that I have done.

But take away the shame and take away the fear.  And take away the person I don't want to be anymore.  And take away my hands and my eyes, so I can learn to rely on God.

Give me a reason to come back.

I'm starting to forget why.

My World In Youtube Videos

I tried to write something that sums up everything, and just couldn't.

Why I want to go into film:

I used to want to be a writer.  And I quickly realized that no matter how hard I try, I would never be satisfied with anything I ever wrote.  I'm always missing something.  It never is as effective or provocative or interesting or beautiful or emotional as I want it to be.

But there's something special about words and music and pictures and when you put them all together, it says more to me than any epic could.

I sometimes spend weeks and months writing, and it never makes me feel the way I want it to.

These videos are everything I have always failed to communicate.  

They are everything to me.

If you watch all of these videos from start to finish, I'm pretty sure you will transcend.

A Gasoline Pump Is Not A Toy

Once,  I was a poor creature who looked to the sun for direction.

I lived on sugar and lived for the summer.  There was never enough time in the day.  There was always another adventure.  I waited for no one.  I wanted for nothing.  Except to run and to hide and to live forever as a bird would.  

Once, I was a frail girl who hated her nose.

I spoke to many people, but never said things that mattered.  I pretended and wished my days away.  I waited for things to end.  I wanted for too much.  Yet, I achieved nothing but mediocrity and intense disappointment. 

Once, I was a peculiar child who laughed at herself.

I went out at night and worked in the day.  I used my money for things that didn't matter and wasted gasoline.  I waited for the future.  I wanted for the past.  I left a lot of things behind in boxes, and still had too much to lug around with me.  

At any given moment, there are thousands of processes going on in just my right arm.  

There are synapses and nerves and blood cells and bone, and I can't even feel it.

You're going to live an entire life and still end up with only three words on your tombstone.

Tell me, can you feel it?