What can possibly bring one to his knees, and what compels one to action without its RAWNESS?  Uncensored pain, all too often that being the truth alone, imperfections laid out as bare as my skin in that portrait.  Forgiveness- just another face.  Betrayal, she does not come around as much now, but those she stole from me still hurt me with each new open condemnation or gaping distance.  Love has become relative to the speaker, the situation; its been lost, tainted, misplaced- or was that my trust? I guess both, for what is love without trust?  I do not trust you.  I do not respect you.  I do not love you anymore.

A dark place, an odor, a contagion has infected this place.  Perhaps it was a concoction of my own intermingling of those which cannot and will never mix without toxic results.  Too much of a good thing, not enough of another.  And these messages may be as cryptic and winding as the paths to the deepest parts of my soul; I hear that dark voice call to me again, offer his advice with alluring ideas of self-protection, his charming smile a mirage of safety and happiness.  “It will cost nothing-it will be easy.”  But it will cost everything. 

It is sad to say that humanity has been lost for quite some time now.  People use people and label it as “love.” But what they mean is, “I am dependent on you, and you make me feel really good.” But I have seen far too many friendships and relationships fall apart due to someone no longer “feeling good” by the other, and so they leave them. They fill their bodies with alchohol and their beds with people they hardly know, and they label it as “fun” when all too often, it is out of sheer loneliness or misery. Half of them might be courageous enough to admit this as pathetic, but they continue to do it, which might even be worse.

What happened to loving someone OVER yourself? Isn’t that what love REALLY is? Self-sacrifice. Love to me is 1 Corinthians 13. Look it up if you’re not familiar and you care, but every element in that passage is denying one’s self for the sake of another.  For instance, patience. “Love always hopes, always trusts, always perserveres.” It is not proud, it is not SELF-seeking. The list goes on. This is why I do not believe that actual love, the kind you see in fairy tales, exists without God. Because if one does not love God, and if one is not filled by the things of God, how can one love another, or even himself?

I mean, think about it. How many people do you think would honestly take a bullet for you?  And how many people would you give your life for?  How many people would you forgive if they hurt you in the worst way you can possibly think of, and then genuinely apologized?

I have been down the path of Anger. I have brought up Bitterness as a child; I have explored Suppression, danced with Self-Indulgence, made love to Selfishness.  And I have been left wanting.

I want to be fully alive. I want to embrace pain when it comes, because it is healthy to weep. I want to love and be loved; I want to feel everything, even when it hurts, because you absolutely cannot have one and not the other.

I know someone who joked about how great life would be if they could sleep, eat, have sex, and do it all over again. That made me sick to my stomach. I don’t see how that is living at all. I see that as someone who has literally died inside, or perhaps is too afraid to face the pain of living again, for certainly that means dealing with some of the hardships of life that they are running from. Regardless, to me, that person has lost their humanity; they have lost hope, they have lost love.

Empty people indulge in addictions. People unhappy with their lives hurt other people especially the ones they see that ARE happy. I see it everywhere. It breaks my heart. I see so many cycles, and trust me, I have BEEN there. Self indulge because you hate your life, but then the thing you indulged in makes you feel like sh*t the next day, so because you feel so sh*tty, you do it again the next night to feel better temporarily. And then you do it all over again and again and again.

I speak from experience. I shut myself down more and more emotionally for years upon years after my first super traumatic life experience. So by the time I was almost through college, I got into some drugs, got wasted 5 nights a week, and got into an extremely unhealthy relationship and hung out with some really awful people I considered “friends.”  I remember that when my ex boyfriend and I would fight, he would see a look come over my face and beg me not to “do that”— “that” being “shut down”. I would literally flip an emotional switch and go somewhere else, and let me tell you, that ruined a LOT of things in my life.

I also speak from the experience of letting yourself hurt. Letting yourself feel. Letting yourself being alone. It takes real strength to be alone; it takes courage. Only weak people use other people in order to not feel lonely. But it hurts; its excruciating at first. Like muscles building, they must literally be shred, ripped apart first, in order to grow strong and then create beautiful bodies. Every good attribute, every aspect of character usually grows from adversity. Don’t be afraid of it. It really is beautiful.

The things we ultimately desire don’t come as quick fixes or instant gratifications. They bring a quick alleviation to life, but then we need more and more of them, and become addicted. But the things we truly desire, those things we have to wait for. We have to work for them. We have to endure life and make sacrifices for them. And with every tear of sweat and salt, they become more precious and more pure because of it.

There has to be some line drawn between idealism, realism, pessimism. But I was never really a visual artist. But God, I desire Truth, Hope, and Love, and I know these can all be found in and through Christ. Its hard, but its the only thing I’ve found that’s worth living for.

One can pick a spring flower,

Or pick a bitter fight.

Decide what’s best for yourself over time.

Practice a talent or take bumps and lines,

All are faced with choosing one’s highs, and

Not all must lead to dilated eyes.

Be a friend when its hard,

Or take them down when its easy.

Seize what you want or patiently receive it.

Stay in bed when its pouring, your excuse is the rain,

Or claim every last minute despite looming gray,

For in every situation there is a victory to gain,

No matter the drudgery of an ordinary day.

One can play the victim when life treats them unfairly,

Or rise up a leader, your cross courageously bearing.

And whatever your choice, whatever your reason,

They are your own, despite coercion or treason.

People often ask me about what my tattoos mean, not merely a reading of the line, but what compelled me to get them and then have them forever imprinted upon my body.  I have three tattoos right now, and I’m currently working on ways to explain them thoroughly via artistic means rather than an informative speech, (we listened and gave enough of those in school, did we not?).  I desire to create a piece per tattoo that both exposes and explores the heart behind the ink stains; the naked truth of my intentions, a word collage that informs and inflames.

So here goes tattoo #1…