tomorrow
She had heard once that death by fire was the most painful of all deaths for it’s mercilessness in consumption. Fire, as it melted away layers of a person, did not forget to open every vein and artery, causing each pain receptor and nerve in a large and complex nervous system to erupt in agony. It was also quick to catch, and difficult to smother.
This was the closest she could imagine feeling to that state, and yet, ecstasy.
Unknowably, her body had exploded into a sensory experience with an intensity only ever identified with pain in the world she had come from. Only pain had ever been so enduring, caused her to be so restless, caused her to scream and react so kinesthetically before.
She was running in the field.
Exactly how long she had been sprinting for, was difficult to discern, perhaps 3 hours, perhaps 3 years.
She waited for herself to realise that she had been holding her breath, she waited to gasp, she waited for the pain of too much exertion, but it didn’t come.
She kept running.
The trees whispered flattery to her as she rushed past them at the first corner, dropping flowers in her path in adoration. The foxes and rabbits bowed their heads at her coming, and amidst her intensity, she smiled at them with ease. The wind followed and doted on her, untangling the knots in her hair again and again. She would always be a small treasure here, though she had lived 100 years.
The girl did not grow weary, she was still adjusting from disbelief, and yet a soft nostalgic voice in her heart laughed, as if she had always known the ways of this Kingdom.
Her feet danced on the grass and she could barely feel herself moving. In exquisite contradiction she had never been more aware of the capacity in each limb of her body to move. Her legs sprung like a cheetah, or some mythical thing, so fast did they skip across the field.
In the distance was the evening song, her people were singing to celebrate another day. She would need to return within the next hour, dressed for the feast.
She slowed to stop herself, and fell, tumbling for mile after mile from the speed. She recovered unharmed; her face cool and unstrained.
As she lay peacefully in the dirt she began to feel the prodding of the earth against the small of her back.
She flung her arms down to quieten it but it only grew more intense, this time accompanied by a earthy voice -
“Miss, miss, miss, you must go -“
She groaned lightheartedly as the birds pulled at her dress and lifted her upright.
Her mind told her that she was hungry, unconsciously sensing the time, although upon reflection she could not recall the last time she had felt the sensation of hunger.
She began the walk back to her room, the glimmering pearl gates sparkling in the far distance.
As was her custom, she raised her face to the horizon and called out in a strong voice that she was not far away and that she would be back in only a little while. Pausing, and overcome with gratitude she also added that she loved Him.
In reply through the clouds, she heard the loving laugh of a boy and the faint commendation to ‘Hurry, Beloved’, in a Hebrew she had come to learn.
and as the gates crept closer the warmth of the city flooded her and she was full.
je parle francais
chronologically I am going to;
- finish uni classes for this semester
- move into billie
- say goodbye to my lovely boys
- work intensely to save money
and, while I’m dying from boredom after transitioning back into david jones after all that, I am going to get back to basics and start picking up french and ballet again!
yay I missed hobby land!
i am not ready for
glossy lives that have it all together, you’re bullies.
i am so so sick. i never want to see you again. stop poking me at my bruises, you’re ridiculous. i don’t want to go to your parties, i don’t want to fall in love with you, i don’t want to tell you your shirt is nice, or ask you how all your well dressed friends are.
i will never be fine, and i will never ever be able to not feel shattered and i am so. glad.
jesus is going to come back soon and i’d rather be writhing in agony from the evil in my heart than letting my sisters stumble from pretending that it wasn’t there at all. i’m so sorry if this blog has ever deceived you. i am a wicked wicked mess. i have at least ten on my list to forgive and another hundred that i owe apology to.
| how are you? |
| sick. |
| oh that's no good, what's wrong? |
| sometimes my toes go numb, my throat is sore, years of eating my food too fast has left me with indigestion problems and maybe a stomach ulcer, oh and sometimes i daydream about my friends getting hurt so i can come to the hospital and take care of them because i have a deep disgusting idol of needing to be needed. |
I have had the quiet joy of, though once requiring the peace and focus of dark closed eyelid curtains to pray intently to my father, now finding, that nothing is so compelling, attractive, and inspiring of prayer than the riches and beauty of eyes open creation itself. I will praise you God for the unfathomable complexity around me, while I stare it boldly in it’s faces. I will praise you O my Yahweh, for the mystery of love, while you bathe me in sunlight, and flood my vision with aesthetic wonder.
all the leaves are (all the leaves are brown) and the sky is grey
i’m going out to breakfast with my ma for mother’s day. AND today i begin ‘a psalm a day’ to form the habit of reading my bible, with my best friend. how exciting. we start with psalm 100.
today i will be quiet, and broken and a little bit sniffly and the kind of calm that comes after a big night of crying.
but that’s okay!
i’m continuing to learn how much of the world i need to cut out of my life so that i can be living in the tents of peace. that includes, bye bye facebook for mobile, bye bye facebook chat (ever!) and no automatic password fill for facebook - if i’m going on, i want a good 4 seconds of filling to those details to be really sure.
live in peace today for the LORD adores you. x
i am part of a community of beautiful girls who love jesus and want to write about him to glorify him on blogs better than this one. and they’re from all around the world. and they pour their hearts out to one another, and they love and pray for one another. and it is just so so good. so very good to have true fellowship with sisters i haven’t even met yet.
i’m so sick of feeling left behind. i just want to be kate middleton. i wish i could run away to another country and start again. but at least, i am going back to school, and it’s good. and different.
miss
welcome to what will be likely the beginning of a new blogging fad reminiscent of this. I have just started my term of prac and am loving it so far - however, i am yet to teach. surprisingly, in just a week i have managed to settle pretty well. i have a desk, i’ve been to staff drinks, i’ve chatted pedagogy with multiple members of staff, helped with reports, done lunch time duty, been to a formal school celebration, and been serenaded by 25 year twelve boys on a crowded school bus, who were adamant about singing their phone numbers despite disapproving looks and screams that they were being completely inappropriate. already i feel as though i have ticked all the boxes that i assumed a private boys school would have to offer me, and i have learnt a lot. but the best is yet to come, i am prettying up my final draft lesson plans for two classes for year nine advanced on “the tempest” for next week, and will have to start getting brave and fronting up to my rowdy year 12 home room starting monday. it will get harder, but i’m so excited!
for everyone else, they’re lucky enough to hear all my stories about the bizarre and completely hilarious things that adolescent boys with severe cabin fever say after the word “miss-“.
one i shared already, but is just so cute was this:
year 9 boy 1: miss, are you going to teach us?
me: it depends how well behaved you are.
year 9 boy 2: oh good, because i’m very well behaved-
year 9 boy 1: and miss you look like taylor swift.
i’m still yet to figure out the correlation between taylor swift and good behavior.
