5.21.19
What you fill your heart with is what you will be. It is what will flow from your soul. So be careful what you allow in your life. Nothing stays secret – nothing stays hidden. Be aware of what you are filling your heart with.
Are you feasting on positivity and pure thoughts? Are you dining on all things wholesome? Or are you gorging on gossip and partaking of jealousy? Does your diet consist of complaints and hatred?
What your heart is full of, that is what you will be.
12:49 a.m.
When I see you, I see sunshine.
I see strength.
I see courage.
I see warmth.
When I see you, I see the moon.
I see mystery.
I see confidence.
I see beauty.
When I see you, I see the stars.
I see wonder.
I see promise.
I see something so untouchable, so unhave-able, yet something everyone wants to hold.
But when I see you, friend, I feel storm clouds.
I feel lightning striking my heart.
I feel rain pouring from my eyes.
I feel the winds blowing me off balance.
Why?
Because I’ve felt that I’ve lost you.
If when I see you, I see the sun, the moon, and all the stars, I can’t help feeling anything but loss when you’re gone.
1 a.m.
8.5.17
Maybe I’m overthinking it, and maybe I’m not. I’m not sure because I’m not there yet. My eighteenth birthday is something that excites and frightens me all at the same time. I mean, I know it’s just another age, but it’s also a milestone. I will legally be an adult.
An adult!
Little three year old me, holding my little brother on the day he was born, an adult.
Little seven year old me, hatching chicks in second grade, an adult.
Little ten year old me, just beginning to like boys, an adult.
Little twelve year old me, starting the mistake called middle school, and adult.
Little fourteen year old me, trying to sneak into movies, an adult.
Little fifteen year old me, getting into the church
Little sixteen year old me, trying to find out who I am in this life, an adult.
Now, not so little seventeen year old me still finding who I am, but knowing the strength that resides in me. I can’t predict what life will be life in adulthood, but I do know I will grow stronger and stronger, and nothing will hold me back.
[was feeling sentimental, so decided to post this the day before I turn 19. should I write a response to what 18 was like? let me know.]
7.2017
Reading is the most dangerous sport; because unlike football, or rugby, or any contact sport that makes blows to the body, books make blows to the heart.
Books have a way of gripping their opponents in such a fashion that can alter their mindset. They lure you in with excellent game plans that include (but are not limited to) the false ideas of trouble-less love, a perfect society, and happy endings, just to name a few.
You think you know the books next turn, next move, and you prepare your heart and mind for what you think might happen, and the words on the page seem to become so predictable, then it all spirals out of control.
You find yourself sobbing, mourning over the loss of a character. Mad at the hero’s ignorant mistake. Your emotions are a dam that’s been broken and there’s no use in trying to patch it up. The flood starts to seep from your eyes and from your mouth as you curse the book that had the ability to crush you.
But that’s how you play.
Beware: Reading is the most dangerous sport.
Joyful Jayden 