Along the Lines of Ink

"Hope, Integrity, Freedom."

Three simple words, printed in small, simple text along the bottom edge of the wing of a swallow.  The split tail is thin and dark, and overbearing texture is not needed there.  Flowing smoothly, elegantly, the wings are spread as if it is diving, curving gently to help give the entire piece some closure.  Each line of the body is delicate and simple, beautiful in its elegance.  Its single eye is buried in shadowed feathers near a beak that is halfway open.  Feathers are gently formed and shaded and meshed together; invitingly it beckons to you to touch and see if you really can feel the lightness of the animal, the flutter of its heartbeat. It symbolizes coming a great distance, loyalty, and freedom.

I can't wait.

Along the Lines of Numerology

I have always been fascinated with fortune telling and tarot and numerology and runes and the like.  This interest does not necessarily mean I believe it or think there is a power at hand to reveal my future; more correctly, I am amused when it is incorrect, and am even more amused when it happens to be fairly spot on.  I will not include my "religious" views on the matter, however this is the result of my most recent numerology inquiry regarding my Life Path number:

"Jessika, you possess great compassion and seek to be of service to others. You have concern for the weak and the downtrodden. You are a healer and a helper to others. You are capable of giving comfort to those in need and will frequently offer a shoulder for others to cry on.
Your task in life is to develop the tools necessary to be truly helpful to others, rather than to simply be a sympathetic ear. You must find the balance between help and interference. In the same way, you must learn the delicate art of the counselor who knows when to leave the struggle to others and when to avoid taking away the necessary experiences and lessons of life.
You are naturally balanced. Therefore, you are well equipped to support and ground others in times of trial. It is in your nature to take on responsibility -- you often fill the void left by others -- and do not turn away from personal sacrifice. At times, you may feel overburdened by the travails of others. However, the love others bestow upon you is your well deserved reward.
Jessika, you try to maintain harmony within the family or group, balancing and fusing divergent forces. You seek marriage and are often a wonderful parent, offering warmth, protection, and understanding to children.
You are generous, kind, and attractive. You are often admired even adored which baffles you. You are humble and yet you carry a deep pride. You move well and gracefully, but will have to work to stay in shape. Seek out physical exercise and limit the sweets and dairy you crave to keep yourself from becoming plump and round.
When young, you must be careful not to choose partners for the wrong reasons. Do not let sentimentality influence your decision, especially those involving the choice of a spouse. You need to be needed, but must learn to discriminate between those you can help and others who are made weaker by your care. After all, it is in your nature to be attracted to the weaker brothers and sisters among us. The temptation, and the danger for you, is to think of yourself as the savior of the world, carrying the burdens of others on your shoulders.
Jessika, you are blessed with musical talent, as well as in the visual and performing arts. However, your creativity may well be suppressed due to your willingness to sacrifice, or your inability to fully appreciate your talents. This is not to say that you cannot excel in these areas; on the contrary, you have the talent, and with effort you can make a success in a number of artistic fields. You also have enormous talent in business. You are blessed with a great deal of charm and charisma, which you use effectively to attract the people and support you need."

Along the Lines of Blood

There's something about a cold night and a silence only broken by your own breathing and the pad of your tennis shoes on cold asphalt. Harsh winter air flooding your lungs, your skin and marrow numbing to the cold around you, but you keep running. Run because it hurts, and because you can. Run to get away, because while you're running, things have a funny way of melting from your mind, as if each cold breath heats instead of freezes. Slowly you lose the feeling in your face, hands, arms, and legs, the cold sinking into you as if you were a vaccuum. Eventually you don't feel the cold; it's there, undoubtedly, but it becomes unimportant because you have beaten the cold. Somehow, this late night winter air and over-exertion make everything disappear. With each step, you slowly start to free yourself, until at long last you can breathe.


It was a stupid mistake, I know, but somehow I felt justified because you had been stupid, too. I was mad at you at first, right before I felt like an insane hypocrite. In a lot of ways we're both injuring ourselves, aren't we? You with your stitches and me with my blistered feet. We're both looking for ways to cover up the latest broken piece, trying to hide it instead of attempting to glue it back into place, because we'd undoubtedly cut ourselves on the edges.

Along the Lines of Fifteen

I'm fifteen.

I've held my sisters close as mom and dad fight upstairs.  Their questions hurt and their tears burn, but my own eyes are dry as I break off pieces of chocolate and read them a story.  As I hold them close, I wish that I was the one being held.

I'm fifteen.

I've fallen in love, and we are skating around the Olympic oval.  Really, though, you are pulling me as my knees and hands shake from the lack of food I've eaten coupled with the fact that I can't skate at all.  As we wait for my mother (who still doesn't know you exist) to pick me and my three or four other friends, you pull me in close, and give me a tender, sweet kiss.

I'm fifteen.

I've grown up a lot since our first kiss.  Carrie Underwood is playing as I write a letter, the words blurring in my eyes and my chest aching.  There is a lot of wisdom in the words I write you, though it is breaking my heart as you walk through your door and pull me close and tight into your arms, my letter crushed between us as I cry into your shoulder.

I'm fifteen.

I'm sitting on the couch, watching as Michael Phelps wins another gold medal, smiling at your excitement.  We are alone, and your arm around me was all I wanted.  You are warm and safe, comforting and secure, and I smile as you wrap me in a tight hug.  Already you are pulling me together, and the hurt from him is slowly fading.

I'm fifteen.

I want someone to hold me and tell me it will be okay, like I have done so many times.  I want to love innocently and naively, and be loved just as youthfully back.  I want to have the strength and courage that helped me write those words.  I want to feel the safety of a friend's arms wrapped around me, holding me together, when I thought I couldn't be more broken.

Along the Lines of Sweethearts

Because life is bizarre and someone up in heaven is having one hell of a time writing the story of my life, I was nominated for Sweethearts' Royalty last week.  Mostly in spite of Michael and other jerks, I decided to run for kicks and giggles.  Imagine my shock when I won First Attendant.  As I was looking back on all of the crazy things I did last week and thought about what I had done and how far I'd come and the theme of the dance, I realized how appropriate the theme was, at least for me.  And so, I decided to post the lyrics, because I'm having a difficult time with words today.

"I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
I hope you dance
(Where those years have gone)

I hope you dance

Along the Lines of a Letter

Dear Love,

I met a boy about a week ago. It’s funny, but I met him the day after I wrote the last letter. His name is Michael Loveless, and is a lineman on the football team and plays right field for the baseball team. He has auburn hair and brown eyes, broad shoulders with thick, muscled arms, and a smile that makes my heart flip. Standing taller than me with shoulders twice as broad, an incredible sense of charm, and undeniable self confidence, I thought he was everything I could want. We grew close, and quickly, and I started falling. It turns out that it doesn’t take long to become attached enough to have your heart broken. One week was all it took this time.

He won’t talk to me anymore. It’s as if I didn’t exist to him, as if I was never a part of his life. All because I wouldn’t sleep with him. He would try to say otherwise, but when it comes down to it, he wouldn’t wait, and I wouldn’t lost my virginity to a guy I had only known for seven days. It tore me to shreds to walk away, seared my stomach to see him turn away as I tried to hug him goodbye, made my heart stop as he left me, broken, in the streets, watching as he went back inside.

I wish you were here to hold me and tell me that he isn’t worth it. I wish I knew you so that I could curl up in your arms and have you kiss me, and let that kiss erase the heartache, because if you were here, he wouldn’t matter. If you were here, it wouldn’t matter that he has a blonde already attached to his arm, and it wouldn’t matter that I listened to “Almost Lover” and “Better Than Me” repeatedly during third period. He wouldn’t matter, if you were here.

But you’re not here, not right now. Someday you will be, but not right now.

I miss you. I love you. I wish you'd find me soon.

With Love,

Somewhere

Along the Lines of Yet Another Song

"Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy


Your fingertips across my skin


The palm trees swaying in the wind

Images

You sang me Spanish lullabies

The sweetest sadness in your eyes

Clever trick



Well, I never want to see you unhappy

I thought you'd want the same for me



[Chorus]

Goodbye, my almost lover

Goodbye, my hopeless dream

I'm trying not to think about you

Can't you just let me be?

So long, my luckless romance

My back is turned on you

Should've known you'd bring me heartache

Almost lovers always do



We walked along a crowded street

You took my hand and danced with me

Images

And when you left, you kissed my lips

You told me you would never, never forget

These images



No



Well, I'd never want to see you unhappy

I thought you'd want the same for me



[Chorus]

Goodbye, my almost lover

Goodbye, my hopeless dream

I'm trying not to think about you

Can't you just let me be?

So long, my luckless romance

My back is turned on you

Should've known you'd bring me heartache

Almost lovers always do



I cannot go to the ocean

I cannot drive the streets at night

I cannot wake up in the morning

Without you on my mind

So you're gone and I'm haunted

And I bet you are just fine



Did I make it that

Easy to walk right in and out

Of my life?



[Chorus]

Goodbye, my almost lover

Goodbye, my hopeless dream

I'm trying not to think about you

Can't you just let me be?

So long, my luckless romance

My back is turned on you

Should have known you'd bring me heartache

Almost lovers always do

Along the Lines of The Scarlet Letter

Nathaniel Hawthorne has an uncanny ability to make every sentence, every word, chalk full of meaning and symbolism.  Unfortunately for many, it is commonly found on the curriculum for eleventh grade students in Utah to dissect his words and find the deepest of meanings in the pictures he creates.  Personally, I love it.  I love the ability Hawthorne had to think and express well, everything. 

I had the strange thought in Sunday school that Cain is much like Hester Prynne.  God supposedly prevented anyone from killing him, but he wore a mark of his sin that was visible to everyone.  While he did not necessarily have a corporal punishment, he was forced to display his sin to everyone and live with that shame.  It makes you wonder which punishment is worse.

Anyways, as part of the project of reading the book, we are required to decorate a letter that stands for a particular weakness, sin, or shameful thing about ourselves.  As I was contemplating what letter to use and for which shameful attribute to display, I wasn't too surprised that I didn't find much - if anything - that I was ashamed to share.  The shame or embarrassment would come in the explanation to people I'd rather not discuss some of those attributes with.  I finally settled on one that accomodated most of my options, a blue, cursive "A."

Already it has been interesting to watch as people try to guess and understand the symbols we are asked to wear on our chest.  Prejudice and quick conclusions are drawn up unrightfully, and each person in AP Language is judged according to their letters.  It isn't required that we explain what our transgression is to everyone, however, it's amusing in a sad sort of way to listen to the embarrassment in the voices of the marked students as they explain, and I smile at the thought that it does not bother me to wear my little letter A.  Even if I were to broadcast the word it represents, no one would truly understand the symbolism and meaning it holds for me.

Just like no one truly understands the symbolism and meaning The Scarlet Letter holds for Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Along the Lines of Chuck Norris (and Other Notable Figures)

"We've all been designed by God to be a blessing to many - a hero to some." ~ Chuck Norris, Introduction to "Do Hard Things" by Alex and Brett Harris




"You don't understand. If I'm not here to recieve these ideas, God will give them to Prince." ~Michael Jackson



"If you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down on his shoulders - what would you tell him to do?" ~Ayn Rand, "Atlas Shrugged"



"There are just some kind of men who - who're so busy worrying about the next world they've never learned to live in this one, and you can look down the street and see the result." ~Harper Lee, "To Kill a Mockingbird"



"Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot... But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world. I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them... but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it... ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love... And it is not an idea I miss, it is the man... A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget." ~Evie Hammond, "V for Vendetta"



"There is only one cause of unhappiness: the false beliefs you have in your head, beliefs so widespread, so commonly held, that it never occurs to you to question them." ~Anthony de Mello, "Awareness"



"The individual has always had a struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privelege of owning yourself." ~Nietzsche



"Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tradgedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true." ~Stranger than Fiction

Along the Lines of Solitude

The ocean swells, slow but sure
A wind blows chill, unsteady,
The sky above so clear and pure;
It calms my heart already.
This my little solitude
Turns my fears away
From ocean to the coast so crude,
It called me back today.
In this corner of security
One place to call my own
To leave the world's impurities
To go to be left alone.
I come to think of everything
And nothing all the same
To turn my thoughts to other things;
Things too broad to name.
And in my patch of solitude
I look for strength to rise
To face my life and people rude
Full of secrets, friends, and lies.
So when inside I'm dying
And lose my will to be,
I pretend I'm flying
To my place beside the sea.