You would be so nice

I realized you exhaust me. You drain my strength and my will. I am drawn to you like a comet to an atomsphere. Still, i never seem to enter your world, your skies, your heavens. I never burn in your atmosphere I just pass by. I pass by, close enough for you to drain my everything. You exhaust me. Your irregular behaviour gets the best of me. You care one day, the next im not there. Im stuck, not sure where to follow. You tell me to walk i walk, you tell me to stop, I stop. Yet, Im terrified of telling you what goes on inside my big, fat, bloating and confused very confused heart. It aches so much, it's holding way too much back. If you could only show me where i can pour it out. That would be nice. You would be so nice.


Yet, it is you I waited for. Did you steal my dreams and made a life out of them? Why do you have to be so perfect, so full of everything I long for, everything I need. Did I tell you I dreamt about our son? Oh we named him after me, you asked me to. Did I tell you about our daughter? Oh we named her after you, I asked you to. Did I tell you I dreamt about our house? Did I tell you how happy you were? I didn't. Did I?. If I told you, would it change you? would you open?. You're so tightly shut, that small bursts of life you let shine through are enough to get me through the week. Yet, im terrified of you and your answers. Yet, it is you I waited for.

keyholes and keys, waiting the walk.

AGH lately I've been feeling as if something is missing in my life, I mean not in a bad way, im not depressed or anything just... like i said im missing something I've never had but I've always known where it goes. Like a keyhole waiting for the key, just there waiting. It does not define what the keyhole in the doornob is, I mean a doornob is still a doornob without the key but it knows what goes inside. Still I wait, it will come in the right time and I know that moment is closing in which makes it even harder to wait. Because I know that if i run and meet her in the way, we will cross each other paths lost until our paths cross again, which they will. So I wait or maybe I should be walking to meet her while she waits. Maybe just maybe we both need to wait, our paths will cross by themselves. I wait.


I walked into the room, you rushed by. Gold and silver floating in the air. I was petrified, scared, excited, intoxicated, mesmerized, I still am. You swept away my indiference, my fears, my dissapointments and replaced them with expectation and a feeling inside me I can only describe as longing. Longing for something I never had but always missed. It's as if my insides ask for the missing piece, and that's just it. You complete me in the most cheesy way you complete what I am, what I hoped, what i dreamt about. You visit my dreams so often, that you already have a duplicate key to my toughts. It's time to take the risky road and get to the thrill that awaits us. So, stop staring at me as if you don't know what you want and jump in.


So, let go,let go
Jump in
Oh well, what you waiting for?
It's all right
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown
So, let go, l-let go
Just get in
Oh, it's so amazing here
It's all right
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown


"What's the word that's burning in your heart?"

"Yeah, the ellipsis, it's dumb. It's dumb. It's an awful idea. I'm not gonna do it, okay? Cause like you said, this is it. This is life. And I'm in love with you... I think that's the only thing I've ever really been sure of in my entire life. And I'm really messed up right now, and I got a whole lot of stuff I have to work out, but I don't want to waste any more of my life without you in it. And I think I can do this. I mean, I want to. I have to, right? "



Garden State changed my life.

Scrapbook

He poured two cups of coffee and took some of the cookie leftover from thrusday's get together, sat down on the porch, remembered.

Loralai I did not cry
On the day we said goodbye.
The whole world did stop spinning for an hour.
I don't want you to know,
That I don't want you to go,
Because you've got my only set of keys.

It seems as if the more we remember, the more we forget. Creating a mental scrapbook makes us cut the edges of memories just to focus on the ones we wish to keep. It is strange how we sometimes cut too much, never to little. Other times, when we need more space for new memories we dont hesitate to rip the whole page. Im ready to make new scrapbooks, to make new pictures, to paint new covers. I know it hurts to rip those pages, but you'll get a new one. I promise.

Say

Say-Sleeping at last

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ya80UbNgM1s

say what you really want to say
and the truest of forms will show
finallly youll find your soul

they impose the endless fight
to always be perfect
it seems they have been chosen
to be above the rest
but the contradiction stands
between these perfect lives
and the words that theyve misread
there was no reading

say all the things that you really want to say
the truest of forms will show
finally youll find your soul
say all the things that you really want to say
the truest of forms will show
and finally youll find your soul

the landscape of being
are endlessly competing, back and forth
for an answer to existance
that we can never find
in all of the places that weve searched out
in all of the pulses that weve takedn
there was no reading

say all the things that you really want to say
the truest of forms will show
finally youll find your soul
say all the things that you really want to say
then youll find the truest of forms will show
and finally well find our souls

give us the answers
and give the ability to hear

the landscape of being
are endlessly competing, back and forth
for an answer to existance
that we can understand

perhaps were looking far too closely
we cant see
all the evidence in its entirety
the air in our lungs
the complexity of our love

say all the things that you really want to say
then youll find teh truest of forms will show
and finally youll find your soul
say all the things that you really want to say

say what you really want to say
and the truest of forms will show
finally youll find your soul

Puddles

Impossibilities are simple vain words when in contact with You. What we believe to be a challenge you look at is a mere puddles we can jump over. For us they may in fact be enormous walls or impossible battles, for You there are simply the course of life. It is when we trust in You and do things through You that we begin to understand things as You want us to. It is when we stand in your shoulders that oceans look like puddles and mountains like grains of sand. It is in You that we have the power to overcome, in You that we understand our purpose. In You we overcome.

The halls of the dead are cold
filled with misadventures, misfortunes and misfits
cryptic wind chills my bones
the exit is closed

The way is shut
and the dead keep it.

Bridges

What is this darkness that swallows us?
This nothingness that covers us?
This void that sucks us in?

When did we lose our crowns?
When did we reject our royal right?
When did our light die, our life dried?

As children of a broken creation
As children of fallen emperors
As brokeness of an eternal covenant

We stood near de chasm
We schemed to bring You down to us
To repair the broken link
To fill the empty sea

You built the towers
You threw the lanes
You placed the lumber
You built the bridge

Chasm no more
Void no more
Darkness no more
Nothingness no more

I am home.

The Killian Tide

Nuevo Banner:

You're my healer

You are my healer

Isaiah 53

1Who believes what we've heard and seen? Who would have thought God's saving power would look like this?2-6The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling, a scrubby plant in a parched field.There was nothing attractive about him, nothing to cause us to take a second look.He was looked down on and passed over, a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.One look at him and people turned away. We looked down on him, thought he was scum.But the fact is, it was our pains he carried— our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.We thought he brought it on himself, that God was punishing him for his own failures.But it was our sins that did that to him, that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!He took the punishment, and that made us whole. Through his bruises we get healed.We're all like sheep who've wandered off and gotten lost. We've all done our own thing, gone our own way. And God has piled all our sins, everything we've done wrong, on him, on him.

Hillsong:Healer

You hold my every moment
You calm my raging seas
You walk with me through fire
And heal all my disease

I trust in You
I trust in You

I believe You're my Healer
I believe You are all I need
I believe You're my Portion
I believe You're more than enough for me
Jesus You're all I need

Nothing is impossible for You
Nothing is impossible for You
Nothing is impossible for You
You hold my world in Your hands

Vean esto http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4xsWldmqAo

Creaturas de lo eterno

Es dificil empezar a entender la realidad de lo que realmente nos sucede todos los dias si estamos sentados esperando que alguien no la explique. He encontrado que despues de 20 años de enseñanza nadie me ha podido dar una explicación digna de lo que significa nuestra existencia y el peso que puede tener en el curso en ocaciones inalterable de la vida diaria. La ironia de que los que una vez fueron la mayoria se convierten en la minoria, los que una vez juzgaron ahora son juzgados, los que una vez corrieron por sus vidas ahora lanzan la primera piedra me fascina y a la vez me da nauseas. Creo que debemos parar y bajarnos del tren para poder realmente analizar a donde nos llevan nuestras vias. Que trasendencia tiene que escribamos obras magnificas e impecables, que digamos discursos dignos de grabados en piedras eternas, que enseñemos generaciones enteras nuestros nuevos ideales si en realidad estos son tan transparentes y livianos como el viento. Así como ciudades magnificentes fueron reducidas a polvo, asi es como nuestros pensamientos pasaran al olvido como meras conjeturas de una realidad que creemos entender y conocer, pero que realmente nos rehusamos a querer entender y conocer. ¿Que significa lo eterno para nosotros? ¿Inemnsas rocas que estan plantadas en fuertes cimientos? ¿Ideas unviersales que nos llevan a trascender este mundo? ¿De donde viene nuestro entendimiento de lo eterno? ¿De lo que es inegable pero nos rehusamos a aceptarlo? ¿Que es esto que nos lleva a querer entender lo eterno sin empezar a conocer lo efimero y real antes? Lo inegable es que somos criaturas eternas, o creemos serlo sin realmente poder justificarlo. No conozco a nadie que este contento con desaparecer en el abismo y en la nada despues de terminar su vida. Quien quiere pasar de ser una persona con aspiraciones eternas a una inexistencia total donde al perder conocimiento nos desvanecemos en el olvido. Debe haber algo más que nos lleva a buscar nuestro final, a buscar lo eterno. Eso es nuestra naturaleza, asi fuimos creados, ha ser criaturas de lo eterno.

Primero que nada no se ni un bledo de puntuación, dos realmente no se que me llevo a escribir esto ni por que escribo tanto ultimamente, espero que tenga sentido o q puedan sacar algo de esto, no lo se jajaja. orale pues. chido.

All the things that you really wanna say

Inspirado por esto: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ya80UbNgM1s
y por un libro de CS Lewis que se llama The Great Divorce. Espero les guste (si es q realmente alguien lee esto, sino pues esto es para Ti).

As ghosts in abandoned cities
Roaming homes for the elderly and the lost
Searching for our souls in our shadows, in the gleaming light of the sun

All the places that we are searching
All the wrong places we look into
Just to find it
In front of us

All around us

Inside us

The air in our lungs
The complexity of our love
The forever reediming grace of the unseen
The neverending love in the creation
The light in our lives

We board this train
We run this race
Never tired
Never lost

Chesterton por ultima vez

Prometo que con esta cita termino mi citas de Chesteron:

" Lastly, this truth is yet again true in the case of the common modern attempts to diminish or to explain away the divinity of Christ. The thing may be true or not; that I shall deal with before I end. But if the divinity is true it is certainly terribly revolutionary. That a good man may have his back to the wall is no more than we knew already; but that God could have his back to the wall is a boastf or all insurgents for ever. Christianity is the only religion on earth that has felt that omnipotence made God incomplete. Christianity alone has felt that God, to be wholly God, must have been a rebel as well as a king. Alone of all creeds, Christianity has added courage to the virtues of the Creator. For the only courage worth calling courage must necessarily mean that the soul passes a breaking point--and does not break. In this indeed I approach a matter more dark and awful than itis easy to discuss; and I apologise in advance if any of my phrases fall wrong or seem irreverent touching a matter which the greatest saints and thinkers have justly feared to approach. But in that terrific tale of the Passion there is a distinct emotional suggestion that the author of all things (in some unthinkable way)went not only through agony, but through doubt. It is written,"Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." No; but the Lord thy God may tempt Himself; and it seems as if this was what happened in Gethsemane. In a garden Satan tempted man: and in a garden God tempted God. He passed in some superhuman manner through our human horrorof pessimism. When the world shook and the sun was wiped out of heaven,it was not at the crucifixion, but at the cry from the cross:the cry which confessed that God was forsaken of God. And now let the revolutionists choose a creed from all the creeds and a god from allthe gods of the world, carefully weighing all the gods of inevitable recurrence and of unalterable power. They will not find another god who has himself been in revolt. Nay, (the matter grows too difficultfor human speech,) but let the atheists themselves choose a god.They will find only one divinity who ever uttered their isolation;only one religion in which God seemed for an instant to bean atheist."

For God is wholly holy. And all things were made throught Christ for Christ.

The missing king

The worm sleeps, the lion creeps.
The sheep waits, the shepherd is missing.

So cast away your fears and face the blackness
The nothingness that swallows us
Our hearts that crumble.

For horror is nothing here
It is as common as the vultures that rumble throught the corpses
As mundane as blood in a battlefield

But courage is needed
It is needed
A soul that reaches a breaking point but endures
A soul that stands as light in a chasm
A soul that cries out to the fall.

The will of a king
The strength of a titan.

We need you.

Chestertons otra vez

Estuve leyendo Chestertons otra vez y pues tuve q poner esta cita:

Altruists, with thin,weak voices, denounce Christ as an egoist. Egoists (witheven thinner and weaker voices) denounce Him as an altruist.I n our present atmosphere such cavils are comprehensible enough. The love of a hero is more terrible than the hatred of a tyrant. The hatred of a hero is more generous than the love of a philanthropist. There is a huge and heroic sanity of which moderns can only collect the fragments. There is a giant of whom we see only the lopped arms and legs walking about. They have torn the soul of Christ into silly strips, labelled egoism and altruism, and they are equally puzzled by His insane magnificence and His insane meekness.They have parted His garments among them, and for His vesture they have cast lots; though the coat was without seam woven from the top throughout.

Y pa todos los q creen en la evolucion sin una direccion divina pues:

Evolution is a good example of that modern intelligence which,if it destroys anything, destroys itself. Evolution is either an innocent scientific description of how certain earthly things came about; or, if it is anything more than this, it is an attack upon thought itself. If evolution destroys anything, it does notdestroy religion but rationalism. If evolution simply means that a positive thing called an ape turned very slowly into a positivething called a man, then it is stingless for the most orthodox;for a personal God might just as well do things slowly as quickly,especially if, like the Christian God, he were outside time. But if it means anything more, it means that there is no suchthing as an ape to change, and no such thing as a man for himto change into. It means that there is no such thing as a thing.At best, there is only one thing, and that is a flux of everythingand anything. This is an attack not upon the faith, but upon the mind; you cannot think if there are no things to think about. You cannot think if you are not separate from the subject of thought. Descartes said, "I think; therefore I am." The philosophic evolutionist reverses and negatives the epigram. He says, "I am not; therefore Icannot think."

En fin.

Deeper into you

No se ni por q posteo esto pero pues ahi va:

/Deeper into you/

Deeper into you
your wind takes me
your current drags me

The more I fight it
the more it hurts
the more it burns.

Inside, your fire strong
show me the way into you
deeper into you

Into you current
your wind takes me
your light leads me

Deeper into you
like a castaway
with no boat or sail
your wind rescues me
your current leads me into salvation
just to find me deeper into you

The port where i sailed from
the sea I parted to
deeper into you
my everything.

// Y luego el poder de Godspeed you! Black Emperor:

The car's on fire and there's no driver at the wheel
And the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
And a dark wind blows
The government is corrupt
And we're on so many drugs
With the radio on and the curtains drawn

We're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
And the machine is bleeding to death

The sun has fallen down
And the billboards are all leering
And the flags are all dead at the top of their poles

It went like this

The buildings tumbled in on themselves
Mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble and pulled out their hair

The skyline was beautiful on fire
All twisted metal stretching upwards
Everything washed in a thin orange haze I said,
"Kiss me, you're beautiful.

These are truly the last days"
You grabbed my hand and we fell into it
Like a daydream or a fever

We woke up one morning and fell a little further down
For sure it's the valley of death
I open up my wallet And it's full of blood

// Por último se lo saque a un amigo. De un autor q se llama Chestertons de su libro "Orthodoxy":

But the new rebel is a Sceptic, and will not entirely trust anything. He has no loyalty; therefore he can never be really a revolutionist. And the fact that he doubts everything really gets in his way when he wants to denounce anything. For all denunciation implies a moral doctrine of some kind; and the modern revolutionist doubts not only the institution he denounces, but the doctrine by which he denounces it. Thus he writes one book complaining that imperial oppression insults the purity of women, and then he writes another book (about the sex problem) in which he insults it himself. He curses the Sultan because Christian girls lose their virginity, and then curses Mrs. Grundy because they keep it. As a politician, he will cry out that war is a waste of life, and then, as a philosopher, that all life is waste of time. A Russian pessimist will denounce a policeman for killing a peasant, and then prove by the highest philosophical principles that the peasant ought to have killed himself. A man denounces marriage as a lie, and then denounces aristocratic profligates for treating it as a lie. He calls a flag a bauble, and then blames the oppressors of Poland or Ireland because they take away that bauble. The man of this school goes first to a political meeting, where he complains that savages are treated as if they were beasts; then he takes his hat and umbrella and goes on to a scientific meeting, where he proves that they practically are beasts.In short, the modern revolutionist, being an infinite sceptic, is always engaged in undermining his own mines. In his book on politics he attacks men for trampling on morality; in his book on ethics he attacks morality for trampling on men. Therefore the modern man in revolt has become practically useless for all purposes of revolt. By rebelling against everything he has lost his right to rebel against anything.

Yo digo q que pesadez. Paz. Afuera.