only time can tell

sometimes i wish
i could tell you the things that run through my mind
but sometimes i know
that some secrets are better kept than spoken.

sometimes i wish
i could decipher what was in my head
but sometimes i know
that with some things, only time can tell.

if you could see my heart and the running dialogue in my mind
if you understood everything that was tearing me in all directions
maybe you could see me
maybe you could understand

but sometimes i fear
that if i were to tell the secrets of my heart
and you were to hear them
they would no longer be secret,
and are you the one whose ears they are meant to tell?

maybe this is why
my thoughts labor within me
a constant pull between one or another.
sometimes i wish i didn't have to choose a side
that perhaps i could ride
on a white picket fence for awhile.
but i know that isn't fair
to be so in-between about something that doesn't affect just me.
but if i choose too hastily,
maybe i'll just choose what's easy;
i like to be free.

sometimes i wish
i could tell you the things that run through my mind
but sometimes i know
that some secrets are better kept than spoken.

sometimes i wish
i could decipher what was in my head
but sometimes i know
that with some things, only time can tell.

so much to say...

my mind keeps reeling with so many thoughts that deserve to be penned, or typed, as the case may be. i was sitting in my young adult literature class tonight realizing, yet again, how little i understand about popular teen culture -- which is bad, since that's kind of what the class is about. Books written for teenagers, young adult literature, is supposed to speak to the popular culture of a teen, but I was never a part of that culture. Sure, i cared what people thought of me, a lot actually, and I still do, sometimes, but I never gave in to popular MEDIA culture... or fashion... i've always had my own style, my own thing... I wear something if it's cute or I like how it looks on me or whatever... but it has to suit me... and a lot of time "fashionable stuff" doesn't really suit me. I've never had a crush on a movie star; how realistic is it for some 30 something to fall in love with me, 19, previously younger than that? I never bought into that. I wouldn't even admit it, most of the time, if I thought an actor was cute... or even a boy my own age... because it's never really been about looks for me. I love getting inside a person, finding out who they really are, who they were made to be. I fall in love with the core of a person... with who they are and how they are letting that shine, not in love with their exterior. What is an exterior but wrapping on a present? The true gift is what is inside... and that's not supposed to be cliche or mushy at all... it's what I really believe. The more I know a person, the more I know both their flaws and their good qualities, the more I love them, because they have allowed me to see their humanity... they have let me glimpse a true portrait of their soul and that is refreshing... because all people make mistakes and everyone has a closet filled with cobwebbed memories from the past that they wish never existed... everyone has gone through stuff that has shaped them into who they are, good or bad. What frustrates me more than anything is when people hide who they really are for fear of rejection. I reject you for your fake perfection... if you showed me who you really were, I would love you.
that may sound twisted, I don't know... but I really do despise perfection, because it is an unattainable concept... and although we are to be "perfect as Christ also was perfect"... (what does that even mean?) perfection in this life really isn't attainable, so stop wasting your time trying to be that way!... sorry, i'm mostly screaming at myself... because I know that I hate being wrong and I hate failure of any kind... but I also know that failure is ok and being wrong is ok... and they are even good, they build character. what i hate most about perfection, however, is when people put up the facade of perfection... oh how much they must work to keep it up, and i don't envy the struggle... (though in some sinister way i admire it... sinister simply because facades tear at the core of who a person is...)... but a person who is easy for me to love is a person who doesn't let fears of acceptance define them... they accept and love who they are and they shine because they're ok with being imperfect... and embrace it even.
yah... just my thoughts at the moment. don't sue me, i may be partially insane. one can never quite be sure... but anyone's thoughts are valid proof that a person indeed thinks... and is not sucked into a non-thinking, always accepting void of humanity that always follows all the fish ahead of them in a stream going to the pretty golden palace of popularity which they will later find out is really a ruse to get them to be part of a fish fry... the fish part... (I mean, if they danced really well or kept up the perfect act long enough they might survive... but most don't... fish fries are harsh when you're the fish.)

Starlight

Grasping at a star with my fingertips
Slowly, coming to grips
With a place that I thought I would never find
happiness, oh I've changed my mind

All the desert seems to have gone so green
Starin' at it, oh what could it mean
Tiny little plants out makin' a scene
Happiness, purest bliss
Has come again, what a God-send

And I thank you for the green
On the side of the fence that's mine
Thanks for contentment in a place
I could only find, was dry.

oh-oh, oh, ooh ooh

and so I'm

Grasping at a star with my fingertips
Slowly, coming to grips
with a place that I thought I would never find
happiness, oh I've changed my mind

Rain fallin' in that driest place
Slowly, beginning to lace
Lackluster brown with a lovely green
Beauty, or so it seems
Has come again, what a God-send

And I thank you for the green
On the side of the fence that's mine
Thanks for contentment in a place
I could only find, was dry.

oh-oh, oh oh ooh

starlight
star
brightest light
darkest night

oh-oh, oh.

Tears scatter and fall like leaves, autumn is almost here

What was summer is now coming to an end.
what was beautiful begins to fade.
The colors are less bright
The sounds less jubilant
The smells less alluring.
Take my hand and pull me up from this sadness that lurks
Tears tempt to spill over -- for what?
For people and memories that will soon just be that, a memory.
Nothing more or less.
I think it really struck me when Callan mentioned at dinner tonight how sad it is that there are some people met this summer that we will never see again.
It broke my heart.