Lines of a Song

Whenever You Remember, by Carrie Underwood

When you look back on times we had
I hope you smile
And know that through the good and through the bad
I was on your side when nobody could hold us down
We claimed the brightest star
And we, we came so far
And no they won't forget

Whenever you remember times gone by
Remember how we held our heads so high
When all this world was there for us
And we believed that we could touch the sky
Whenever you remember, I'll be there
Remember how we reached that dream together
Whenever you remember

When you think back on all we've done
I hope you're proud
When you look back and see how far we've come
It was our time to shine
And nobody could hold us down
They thought they'd see us fall
But we, we stood so tall
And no, we won't forget

Whenever you remember times gone by
Remember how we held our heads so high
When all this world was there for us
And we believed we could touch the sky
Whenever you remember, I'll be there
Remember how we reached that dream together
Whenever you remember

We claimed the brightest star
And we, we came so far
You know that we, we showed them all
And no, they won't forget

Whenever you remember times gone by
Remember how we held our heads so high
When all this world was there for us
And we believed that we could touch the sky
Whenever you remember, I'll be there
Remember how we reached that dream together
Whenever you remember

Whenever you remember

Oh, whenever you remember

Along the Lines of Secrets

God, love, sex, family, life... there are so many secrets, and everyone has at least one. Mine have accumulated over the years, piling one on top of the other, all trying to find their own place inside the cramped space called "me." There are new ones, more recent ones, and these fresh secrets excite me.
I need secrets to function, though many people would disagree and possibly recommend a shrink. I need their safety, their calm reassurance that no one really knows everything about me, that those bits of knowledge will always be mine, and only mine.
Some of these secrets scare me, and they show me just how out of control of my life I am. A part of me yearns to let someone in completely, yet I would never let myself.
There are the secrets that you wish someone would see, the ones that make you yearn for a listening ear and an understanding heart.
There are the secrets that crave attention of any sort, make you someone you wish you weren't.
There are the secrets that make you sad, make you cry, and you only face them in the darkest hours of the night, curled up and alone.
There are the secrets that hurt you, that you wish to give to someone else, but you know that you can't.
There are secrets that you wish you didn't know.
Regardless of what kind they are, they are your secrets, and belong to you and only you.
These secrets... they're mine, and I find a strange sense of calm in them.
In these words there are so many other secrets, and they're still mine.

Along the Lines of Beautiful Nights

The near-black sky tonight is so beautiful, all speckled with dimly winking stars. Fading darker as it goes towards the "center" of the sky, it really does give you the illusion, or more so the reality, of a dome.
Standing outside, the cool night air breathes on my skin, and I can't help but feel myself open up to the night, trying to release all of the energy, emotion, and noise that's inside of me, screaming to be heard.
It's the nights like these that are the hardest for me. The beautiful, calm, and peaceful nights. A summer rain shower are also difficult, but for now, all I have is tonight.
There's something about the dark sky, the whispering crickets, and the unseen wind that pulls at the core of me. Everything contained inside of me starts to pull and claw its way out, and no matter how long or how hard it will dig, it will never reach the surface.
The night protects me.
It offers me a cover, a safety, that just surrounds me with blankets of comfort.
The night listens.
It's still, and hears everything I dare not say. The crickets distract any listening ear as my heart pours out its secrets and begs for relief.
The night heals.
I am taken away into a corner of the world that is mine, and only mine. I am alone to breathe, and the chilled air fills every cell in my body and replenishes what it can, offering what it can, and taking what it can.
The night rolls over and through me, opening me up and removing the walls I work so hard to build.
These nights... they heal and they haunt. I long for those I love, to hold and be held by warm, protecting arms. The night offers the empty whisper of a touch. I miss those I've lost, and the night gently reminds me that they no longer need me, though their memory still lingers in me, irreplaceable, quite unlike what I am to them. The night lets me feel everything while I wish the opposite.

It's on nights like these...

...that it feels as if everything I want and need...

...are just right there...

...right behind that thin curtain of black...

...and just as I reach out to touch it...

...I find that it was never really there in the first place.

Along the Lines of Roses

Roses are beautiful things, so rich in color. They represent love when red, friendship when yellow, and purity when white. Chosen for their beauty and innocence, they are the background of many pictures and adorn weddings, funerals, and other occasions.
They sit in vases on our countertops, soaking in vitamin-enriched water. Slowly, the life is drained out of them, and for our pleasure. We hold on to them, knowing they will die soon enough, and when their time comes and they are exhausted and wilting, we will throw them out, and find a new replacement, but at least we enjoyed their vitality while it lasted.
They hang from a noose made of ribbon, the life also draining out of them imminently. While they will die just as the others, their beauty will be preserved in part. Their jaded, dead shells will sit in empty vases, hang on walls, or be tucked safely on a shelf as a tribute to the memories that brought them there. But the life is sucked out of them, yet we hang on tightly to them, to the memories, because we're too scared to let them go.
There are so many things that are exactly like these roses. We choose to either enjoy their beauty while they last, or we keep the dead shells because it is too hard to let them go.

Along the Lines of Depression in the United States

Big Sister at work came up with the following insight on rainbow-colored sprinkles:

"Some people are just depressed and they need to eat colorful wax to make themselves feel happy."

Along the Lines of My Co-Workers

Working at a place whose full line of employees consists of mostly high school and recently graduated students, it's inevitable that a number of them will have to quit come late August and September. It's rough to acknowledge these imminent changes, but we have no choice but to accept them.
One of these people happens to be one of my closest friends, mentor, and sister-like figure. She's moving out for college in just a matter of weeks, and it's hard to imagine life without her, without her being in a twenty minute range if I need her for anything. She's guided me through the past four years, and has been there to protect me, to listen to me, and to give me advice and show me how to truly live my life. I can't imagine DECA without her; I'll miss her confident calm, and her faith in me to do well and to go farther than I ever could have guessed. Her knowledge and skill helped get me to Nationals, and I can't imagine going without her. Next year, it will be me who is the mentor, the one who has been there before, and quite frankly, that's terrifying.
Next is the "only good-looking straight guy" and "the five-year old who never grew up". He is moving to a city whose population is smaller than the student body of my high school. None of us are really quite sure why he's going there, since it's kind of known as the town that you move away from, not to. As he explains it, he's moving there to get away from everything, and as crazy as we all think he is, I think it will be good for him. He's going to grow up a little (we hope) and maybe get his life in order for what he wants for his future.
Then there's the quiet Mormon girl, who is also moving away to college. She hasn't worked here long, but we've all sort of grown attached. She's a sweetheart, she really is. I hope things go well for her; she deserves it.
And the oldest of us all, and recently returned from Scotland for study abroad. She's been here for three years, and it will be strange for all of us to see her go. Like everyone else but so much more so, she's family, she's the big sister. There's a slight chance that she'll come back next summer, but you can only work quick serve for so long, and she's talented enough to get the work she wants in photography.
Our dear father may or may not be leaving. He's even older than big sister, but still young to all of us. Having been here since our opening day, he has a permanent place in our family, but again, you can only work quick serve for so long.
With school starting, none of us are really sure of who else might have to leave, myself included. I don't want to see more of us go, but it's a possibility.
All of these people and the rest of our family make work my home. It's safety, a place to hide, and somewhere to be yourself and be accepted as such. With the upcoming changes, I don't know how I would feel about adding another brother or sister, changing the parenthood, and just... watching them leave. It will be hard.

Along the Lines of a Friend

Eight months is a long time to be with someone, a long time to love someone. With this particular story, the couple went through so much, overcame so many obstacles, and climbed so many mountains together that for many it was a surprise to hear of their romantic ending. I guess it's safe to say that no one really ever expects a high school relationship to end, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with.
His drug problem was their first battle together, and they pushed through the ankle-deep mud onto soft, dry ground. To this day he hasn't gone back, and she will always be proud of him.
For her, her life was full of instability. With the pending divorce (which would solidify in May), her family life was breaking apart. No one in her home had an income, and the bills would go unpaid until the point of foreclosure. There was no place to go when that happened, and even still her and her sisters are waiting for the eviction notice.
Her dream was to travel, see the world, never settle down for longer than a year in any given place. She planned to go to Boston for college, and despite the almost certain knowledge that she would be denied, she had ambition enough to apply for Julliard and other top-rated schools of music in the country.
His dream was to settle down, start a family, and take over his dad's business. College for him meant the community college down the street, as his grades were only barely good enough to get him to graduation.
They shared so many memories, and she prays he is trying to hold on to those as much as she is. There was their first dance, the girl's choice formal dance at the public high school, followed by every dance the school had to offer. Senior Prom was both his and her first prom experience, and they rode in a limousine to the state capital. Dinner that night was supposed to be at a fairly nice restaurant, but ended up being the food court at the mall. They went to countless movies, and watched just as many at home in front of his fireplace. When spring came, they went to a small, local amusement center and played miniature golf and drove go carts. They went to Applebees at least once a month, each ordering the same thing each time. He introduced her to Indian food at India House the night of one of their formal dances.
Summer drew closer and she watched him graduate, sitting with his family and watching him accomplish something that no one thought he could do. Somehow, though, she knew they had limited time left.

He broke up with her the day after their eight month anniversary, in the parking lot of the public library. They were both crying, and neither wanted to let the other go. In the end, I think they both knew that, deep down, it's what they both needed, even if it wasn't exactly what they wanted.

The first night was utter Hell for her. She cried herself to sleep, alone in an empty house. He called at some point late that night, and they both felt the other's desperation. As a few days have gone by, she realizes that the days get easier, but the nights will be a recurring fight. Whenever the sun sets, or she listens to those songs, she can't help but feel as if her lungs have shrunk in size and increased in density, and that her heart is being compressed into a space half its size.

She remembers each kiss, each touch, and each laugh. She misses him, longs for him, and wishes the best for him. She hopes he remembers her, although she knows that at some point in his life he will find someone who will love him as she did, and hopes the best for them.
She hopes he misses her, but knows that she will be okay. She hopes he will be okay, and will continue to push forward and live the life he wants, and to show them all that he is so much stronger than they thought he was.
A part of her wishes that she could be there for him, now and always, just as she promised. She knows that she isn't what he needs, but she wishes that she could change herself and fit that desire.
He misses her and still can't imagine life without her. He can't picture himself with anyone else, but he can't picture himself with her.
They discussed this a week or more before the break up, and even then she felt as though she had lost him, that she had to let him go. Then, however, they decided to work things out, to at least cherish the time that they had, and everything was going to be okay. She was okay, and moving on, and letting herself love him to her full capacity.
On the Eighteenth of July, however, all of that changed, and she had to let him go, this time for real.

It's this type of pain that people just don't understand. I don't believe that anyone can truly sympathize with a broken heart, because the pain is never the same for two people. Yes, the thought and the understanding might be there, but no one can empathize. There is nothing really to say to one with a broken heart, and each has their own needs and ways of healing.

Until you've experienced it, heartbreak is a concept that is hard to grasp. It's eluding and incomprehensible, and when you're heart broken, no one really, truly understands your pain because we all feel it differently. Heartbreak will hurt in a different way for me than it will for you, and it's no surprise that we all feel terribly alone.

Along the lines of Expiration Dates

Milk, peanut butter, tofu... Hopefully everything in your refridgerator, freezer, and pantry has an expiration date. In regards to food, expiration dates are important, good even. They keep us safe and healthy.
Other things have expiration dates as well. Utilities bills, foreclosure and eviction notices, and sometimes even lives. Whiles these are just as necessary, they are so much harder to cope with. You can't just throw them out when they go bad, go to the grocery store, and get a replacement.
Many relationships have expiration dates. It's hard to say whether or not those are the hardest kinds of expiration dates to deal with or not. At least there will always be the possibility of another one, and hopefully won't land you in a grave.
How are you supposed to let go? Each hug, each kiss, each simple touch... hurts. You miss them prematurely, you miss them when they are still in the seat next to you. How are you supposed to let yourself love them more and more each day until it ends? Is it worth the pain?
Regardless of how hard you try to hold on, sometimes you can't change the day it expires, just as you can't change the date on yogurt; it will go bad at the same time, no matter how hard you try.

Along the Lines of.... Chinese Food

There is something deeply satisfying about a take-out order of Chinese food. It might be the square-ish shaped box with the little wire handle, or maybe it's the comfort of fried food that isn't American.
Tonight's order was pressed almond chicken and ham fried rice, which came with a small container of sweet and sour sauce and another smaller side of white, steamed rice. Now this food isn't your regular Panda Express or Rice King food; it belongs to a higher group of take out: Golden Tree Cafe. If you have yet to experience the glorious food that springs forth from these kitchens, I encourage you to take whatever transportation is necessary to partake.
As I said earlier, there is just something about Chinese food that satisfies the deepest of cravings (except, perhaps, that of crystal methamphetamine and other such illegal drugs). It was particularly satisfying to change into my pajamas, open my laptop, and scoop small spoonfuls of ham fried rice into my mouth after a long day/night of work.
You know, I have this vision of a date I would love to go on. The basics are the same, but with one variable. I would love to get Chinese take-out and watch re-runs of I Love Lucy by a fireplace. Any old television show or movie would work, really. As for that variable I was talking about, it would also be enjoyable to enjoy that same Chinese food at a drive-in movie. Picture cuddling up together in the bed of a truck with a blanket draped over our feet, delicious food in our hands, and a movie out in the cool, summer night's air.
Wonderful, isn't it?
And now, my paper container of fried rice is now depleted of it's contents.
Good-bye, my dear ham fried rice. I shall miss you.

Laugh Lines of the Day

"Please Pharaoh Tuten-Ramen-Noodle! Let my people Go-Gurt!" - Stephen Colbert

"If you're staring at me, it better be because I'm the suspect. If not, get back to work or I swear you're all demoted to something that involves touching s*** with your hands!" - Eagle Eye

http://www.noob.us/humor/the-office-kgb-knock-knock-joke/