when it rains, it pours

I have a very peculiar way of coping with things. See, today I am fasting and walking around campus, finding some small strange comfort in the few amount of people walking around too on a Saturday afternoon. I did something excruciating today- I ripped out some beautiful and ugly parts that were mangled in my heart (yet they still sit on my thoughts like birds on a wire, waiting, watching)- and I am untangling them on my own (or just with God). It's something I have not been in a really long time- on my own- but it is exactly what I need, I guess, I hope.

I may write more this week, I may not write at all. Currently I just feel a numbness that if I think about it too much at all it becomes painful and aching. I feel impulsive which scares me a lot, because if I know anything of my nature my impulses are nothing to trust. But I am thinking of cutting my hair. And 

I hope it rains this week. I hope it's cold, but not cold enough to dismay me from walking around campus, trying to see something in someone else that feels the same or knows. I hope I can find some peace and maybe even happiness in my friends, in sitting on that bench, in my taffy, and in the small amounts of smiles I find myself cracking, even today, on a particularly dark day.

love,

m

this dream..

I had a poetic, beautiful kind of dream last night. I don't expect anyone to read this, but I need to write it down because the images have been creeping into my head all day.

There was kind of a flashback to my Fall Retreat, but several things were different. My parents and for some reason a former teacher of mine were there for a minute of my time. The cost of this retreat was $5000, and I felt so distressed knowing that I could not pay it, but my parents said that they would pay the price for me. A group of my friends from Cru were all going into a church to worship. I went in another door though- I could see once I got in that everyone was on the other side of the church, so I went down a slide from the ceiling to get to the other side. I felt like I broke some kind of rule going down that slide, like the people running the church would not want people sliding and rappelling from the ceiling, but I was happy to be with my friends and I did not care.

I do not remember actually worshipping, but suddenly I was in the cabin and it was just as gross and bug-filled as the one at Fall Retreat. I walked out of the building and toured around and saw a bright, glowing light coming from around the corner. I peered in at the source from outside into a lounge full with people- my roommate, one of my friends, several other familiar faces- and they were simply lounging under this beautiful and giant chandelier shaped like the sun. I did not want to enter the room though- I just wished to gaze at the brightness of the chandelier. I gathered that they were bored.

I walked a little more and found myself a bench much like the one I actually sat on two days ago. I was sitting there with a boy petting a dog who was orange-red colored. Our hands touched and it was the most magical moment I have experienced because it truly did feel as though it was real. Of course someone sat in between us following that, but it was still a touching little moment that I cannot stop thinking about.

tired mumblings

Hi there. Sorry to everyone that thinks I went off the deep end yesterday- I somewhat have, but it is all in the nature of good things happening for good reasons in my heart.

It was a terribly exhausting week, and I write this as my eyes are slowly fluttering open and closed. The car ride here, after being comically terrible, was peace. The sky did a very interesting thing before my eyes- as the sun was setting, it went from dark to light colors dancing towards the horizon, but after the sun fell, the darkness rested along the horizon and light sprung slightly up through the sky with a few stars peeking out at the top. Maybe it always does this, but I had been peeking around skyscrapers for so long I had forgotten.

When we arrived at my grandparent's small house, the sky was peace. It was a starry night that reminded me of the nights I used to spend with my fifth-grade crush playing basketball outside in the middle of February.

I have been feeling highly sentimental lately, swimming in old memories that have been transcending their years to reach me here now. It is bizarre and not uncomfortable, but rather the opposite. I like collecting these little moments and sewing them into a kind of quilt that I bear around myself to keep away the chill of emptiness and the occasional feeling of not knowing who I am. If anyone were genuinely interested in who I am, I would just let them have this quilt to look at and they would see a story alike to the Illustrated Man, to Paul, to the middle of a "choose-your-own-adventure" book. But just the quilt isn't enough, no- if I were genuinely interested in letting them see who I am, I would want to show them. I would want to show them all of the things, and where they come from, and why I chose them. I would show them the big hill while the sun is setting, and the town I feel so drawn to, and the little house I grew up in, and Corn Day with all of its corny traditions, and that freedom I feel when zip-lining, and I would show them Orion and the story of Thunder Cake and the big tire swing. And I just hope and pray that they would want to put these things on their quilts also.

-m

I cannot even begin to explain to you how much I need to get out of this town. Man, the only thing I can think of is to run, and it's all because that's all I've ever known.

-m

You guys, a lot of stuff has been going on in my heart. I am so, so, utterly happy and joyful and spirited. I have never felt God as strongly in my heart, and I love every second of it. I will try to tell you all all about it soon, but for right now I am headed home to the heart of the country that I know so well.

Peace,
MacKenzie