the only

designer bags i have.. 

are under each eye. :/


zoink.
::
goodnight!

i love her hair.

alison sudol from "a fine frenzy". 

lazy morning ritual

the warm computer buzz of a laptop. streaks of morning light from a window. tangled white sheets and mounds of over-fluffy pillows. words to no one in particular. long stretch. turn and dream again.

candy cantaloupe

"candy cantaloupe!" her withered hand reaches toward me, shaking a little plastic cup. i can't see what is in it, so i step closer. "try to-day, so good. you like." black-haired man steps in line in front of me, obscuring my view. finally, he moves. "here! you. have one!" i can see the cup's contents fully this time. orange, over-ripe plain cantaloupe sitting in a fourth an inch of murky water. my nose involuntary scrunches up. oh, that was all it was. i shuffle a few steps back and then right, murmuring an "oh no thanks". it is lost in the noise of screaming child, "mom! mom! i said i want some! mooom! are you listening!" "candy cantaloupe!"the old woman calls again with that lilt to her voice. i walk down the tomato aisle of the produce section. ew. ew. ew. why did i even get in line for that? i wasn't the poor old woman's fault. fact of the matter is, i just hate cantaloupe.

i don't exactly remember

if the movie "the amazing spiderman" had the great quote in it i imagine it has.

it was something along the lines of "those who have the ability to help, must--for no one but them has their power". but anyways, i think it's just the "with great power comes great responsibility" line. clearly less poetic. that was the only one i could find that sounded like it on imbd or (imdb as it's more commonly called.)

probably my favorite scene in that movie is when peter parker chooses to create his own "justice" by not assisting the rude convenience store employee stop a robber. he of course thought it would "serve the man right" for how he treated parker. the grand sceme of things is a little bigger than that, and that particular convenience store robber killed an innocent bystander that got in his way. unfortunately for parker, this was his uncle.

before you think i'm gruesome for liking that scene. i don't like it. well, i do... i don't know, i just like it because it teaches me a lesson. i genuinely felt guilty.

why? because it's like me to not do proactive evil upon others but sort of whistle away hoping they get what's comin to them.

that's why IF the movie has that really great quote to it that i am imagining, it would really go well with this story i heard in the news.



--
doesn't that just make you shake your head!? that anyone that nice is still left? AND that she didn't reveal that she was a heroine! too cool.

anyway, what about the other end? you know the romans 12:17 deal; the you can't just NOT do bad, but have to actively DO good on top of it.

moreover, it made me think that i do have individual POWER (bestowed by God) i have the responsibility to use it if i can.  if i "know to do good, and don't do it" i am inadvertently killing souls by not offering my potential life-giving powers of kind words, listening ear, nod and forhead crinkle.

just something to think on.

i want no power

i want no power;
i have no aim.
ruling is such an unpleasant game.
as i hate to say i love, for i really do--
i love only to follow and learn too.
words such as this! ach! burn them alive.


and, were i to say things as these a-loud?!
better to have stood on my head and meowed!

this one's about pots.

i really want to take a pottery class.  my eye is twitching. i hate that. it's probably from stress.


dear diary,

i am an ugly pot. i feel like this weird deformed vessel. one you can tell was perhaps meant to hold something at one time or serve some kind of function. however, time and demand of other pressing project orders, was put to the back shelf. here i am.

from here on this ledge oh! it is hard not to envy the almost flute-like graceful sculptural vases, the milky porcelain plates, the painstakenly painted pitcher, teacups with seemingly everything handed to them--rimmed in gold! were they made just to make me discontented? surely not. how silly.

the Master makes no mistakes. i really do not question Him. some evenings i do watch from my shelf and marvel at His hands i see so clearly-- steady, strong, and expertly skilled at accomplishing whatever it was that He wanted to make. overwhemled, my eyes often move from his craftmanship to behind His worktable. plain earthy mugs holding pencils and brushes.
i squint and try to conjecture what even they must feel like, being used! they are not beautiful, really not even very functional, no handle in which to be held-- but rawly shaped to contain something for the Master.

i look down at myself. "i want to be used!" i want to scream out in my little voice. i'm tired of waiting. "when will be my time?" i breathe into the air.

"it's My time." the Master said. "I made you."




What shall we say then? There is no injustice with God, is there? May it never be! For He says to Moses, “ I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.” So then it does not depend on the man who wills or the man who runs, but on God who has mercy. For the Scripture says to Pharaoh, “ For this very purpose I raised you up, to demonstrate My power in you, and that My name might be proclaimed throughout the whole earth.” So then He has mercy on whom He desires, and He hardens whom He desires.
You will say to me then, “ Why does He still find fault? For who resists His will?” On the contrary, who are you, O man, who answers back to God? The thing molded will not say to the molder, “Why did you make me like this,” will it? Or does not the potter have a right over the clay, to make from the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for common use? What if God, although willing to demonstrate His wrath and to make His power known, endured with much patience vessels of wrath prepared for destruction? And He did so to make known the riches of His glory upon vessels of mercy, which He prepared beforehand for glory, even us, whom He also called, not from among Jews only, but also from among Gentiles. As He says also in Hosea,

“ I will call those who were not My people, ‘My people,’
And her who was not beloved, ‘beloved.’”
 “ And it shall be that in the place where it was said to them, ‘you are not My people,’
There they shall be called sons of the living God.”