My random thoughts and sometimes poems

My restless thoughts

Another new poem for you all. This is about how my feelings dominate every part of me, and how frustrating it is not to be able to display them all the time.

They are, they are, they are

The voice that shall never see the light of day

The melancholy, the broken (away).

 

They are, they are, they are

A silent call for space

A breath gasping for release.

 

They need to shout

But only whispers can escape

 

They are, the strength, the downfall

They are hope, they are rage

They are the gale, the current that spirits me away.

 

Though only a glimmer you see,

They. Are.Me.

 

 

 

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From band to band

The more I’ve grown aware of my Enneagram Type-4-ness, the more I’ve realized how much I crave deep personal connection, kindred spirits, knowing and understanding the people I care about. It’s why I hate small talk (that’s a topic for a whole different blog) because it doesn’t help me know anyone better at all.

This month, I’ve had the amazing privilege of seeing concerts of and talking to two of of my favorite musical artists, Andrew McMahon and Paper Route. I love more intimate shows and getting to talk to my favorite bands because it helps me get to know them as real people, not just who they are on social media or as performers. I get to bridge the distance between us. (I sound so poetic there!) I’ve met both of them several times over the years, but the times I met them this month felt more special.

With Andrew, I got to go to a pre-concert soundcheck and then do a meet and greet with him (as part of a VIP package I bought). He was so sweet and thoughtful — he came around during the soundcheck to take selfies with/for everyone and was super-kind to me when I nervously stumbled through my adulation for him. (I always get nervous talking to famous people.) And every show of his that I’ve been to, he always comes out afterward and meets and takes pictures with fans. (Also, his lyrics are maybe the most beautiful non-worship lyrics I’ve ever heard.)

When I saw Paper Route, they played a super-intimate, super-laid-back show where they got really personal about the meanings of certain songs (which I LOVE when artists do) and were really funny and were just human.

One thing that really touched me (one of those “kindred” moments) was when their lead singer, JT, talked about the meaning of their song “Balconies.” One of the lines of the song is “Raise your arms and hold balconies of grace.” He explained that the song, and that line specifically, was about him learning to receive love, after a long time of not feeling at all worthy of it.

This is something that I struggled with for a long time, and still sometimes find hard to accept — why people show love to me when I don’t feel like I’ve earned it or am too flawed to be worthy of it. Just to hear an artist I admire say they’ve struggled with the same thing I have was a special feeling I can’t quite put into words.

The best way I can describe it is a sort of friendship, what C.S. Lewis describes in this quote: “Friendship is born at the moment when one man says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought that no one but myself…'”

Paper Route also has a lot of songs, especially on their latest album, that are pretty much exactly me. “Laugh About It” has a verse that says, “Anxious/The doc has got me drugged up/She says I’m not a screw-up/I’m just anxious.” As someone who has struggled deeply with anxiety for a while (though I’m mostly better now) and has felt like there’s something wrong with me because of it, this song also really touched me.

There’s so much more I could go into with how much I relate to both Paper Route’s and Andrew McMahon’s songs, but I’ll leave that for another time because it’ll take a while.

So thank you to both bands I love for making me feel closer to you, and for reminding me that I’m not the only one going through what I do!

(Side note: I talked to JT and Nick from Paper Route after their show, and gave JT my poetry book to read!)

 

 

 

 

So I’ve decided to bring back this blog. Hopefully I can be more consistent in posting poetry here!

Here’s a new one I wrote tonight that’s partly autobiographical.

Stranded, I’m standing upon
A vacant floor

Descended from
Heights of green to depths of blue
I run free,
But am (re)strained
Pairs dance, but at a distance

You say my love is not worth squandering
The grandeur you have planned
I am not enough

So I wait for faith to rescue me
All haze to fall away
A fearsome light
Flow’d strong throughout my frame

Unguarded, the world awaits.

Hello again! It’s been awhile since I’ve written here, but I’m on a writing kick, and now, I’m back.

I’ve decided to find a specific topic for the blog this time. I’m going to write about my experiences as a highly sensitive ISFJ.

Today, I’m going to focus on the highly sensitive portion of my personality.

(For those who are unfamiliar with the term “highly sensitive”, here’s a brief definition taken from hsperson.com.

“The highly sensitive person (HSP) has a sensitive nervous system, is aware of subtleties in his/her surroundings, and is more easily overwhelmed when in a highly stimulating environment.”)

Because I’m highly sensitive, it makes me very reactive. Loud or unusual noises, unpleasant smells, uncomfortable or unfamiliar sensations– basically any change to my environment that disrupts or affects my senses–makes me react facially. I narrow my eyes, purse my lips, and in general, just look ticked off. I can’t control it; it just naturally happens. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until someone says something.

This happens most often when I’m walking and someone passes by me too closely or I have to adjust my path to avoid crashing into someone. I also have a bit of a wandering eye. So when I feel like I’m going to walk into someone’s way, I narrow my eyes and my facial expression changes because it’s an unexpected change in my environment.  I may look annoyed, but I’m really not.

So if I narrow my eyes at you, now you know: it’s nothing personal; it’s just my high sensitivity kicking in.

 

 

 

Come go with me now

Here are a few poems for you all. One was written about a month ago about my trip to my college town, and the other one was written a bit more recently.

Stranger in a foreign land

Voices speaking words I do not understand

Who I once was

Lost in the past

Sweet then sour

The taste of those days

Erased by all but my tongue

Fragile, focused, incomplete

Now jaded, monotone

I return

Still incomplete

I return, seeking solace

Or atonement

May I have courage

To treasure these moments

But be content.

Through different voices

Our language is the same

We see the same truth

Through rainbow-hued lenses

An eerie symmetry

Our spirits granted

A light to shine upon us

Breathing in the here and now

Capturing the wonder so often

Gone unseen

United yet free

By the pow’r of our hands

We press on.

I just found this poem and couldn’t remember if I posted it or not already. So if I have, my apologies…

Shalom.

I chase it, but to all the wrong places.

Where I find it, it visits,

But only overnight.

I know where its true source lies

Not within me – where callous voices reign

But outside, in the love of my Creator.

My mind remains restless, divided.

The lies tearing at me, trying to tear me down

Till nothing is left.

The truth I need to rescue me

Slowly, relentlessly, seeping into every corner of me

Yet not fully comprising my state of being.

I cannot compromise

Yet I cannot find victory completely.

All I can do is pray that

The

Right side

Wins.

I’d keep you safe

Here’s a new poem about how the people I love always stay with me…

These fingerprints
They mark my heart
Each imprint a stain
An unbroken refrain
Calling me back to
Those I have loved.

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