the turning point.

~~[WARNING: confessional post ahead. :P]~~

I feel I have reached a real turning point.
As you may have noticed from my last post, I have been struggling. This is not a recent thing, though. I can't really go into everything because I don't have the space or the words. I will say this, though: the past few years have been extremely difficult for me spiritually and emotionally. I have been fluctuating between hope and utter despair. Turning away from and towards God over and over.

This past December was a happy time and I thought I was finally working things out and beginning to get better.
But January came with a vengeance and nearly did me in. These past weeks, especially last week, I reached new lows. Hateful things constantly bubbled up within me. I came to a level of self-loathing that is hard to return from. And I barely even cared. I was basically numb.

Then, a couple of days ago, I was reading some random girl's blog. I don't even know who she was or how I got there, really. But this girl's blog was the most depressing thing I have read in a long time. I saw a girl who was blind to the things that really matter. She hated when she should love and because of her anger and sadness she found vindication in turning to the blade of a knife.
I knew I was becoming this girl and suddenly I clearly realized, I don't want to be this girl.

I felt as if I had been ambivalently treading water, nearly drowning and had finally decided I was going to swim.
I felt light and joyous. I just wanted to stand on something and sing. (Which is often my response to happiness, haha.)

I needed to share this because nobody has any idea... I know my parents care about me so much and maybe because of that I am unable to fully confide in them. (Right now, at least.)
Pray for me, if you ever think of it. This healing process is going to be difficult, I know. Too many times I have fallen back in with temptations. But I have been slowly dying and I am ready to finally live. Trusting God and giving Him everything is hard for me, I admit. But I am looking upward and I can feel my wounded soul starting to heal.


"But I trust in Your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in Your salvation.
I will sing the Lord's praise,
for He has been good to me."
Psalm 13:5-6

The Stranger?

One day you'll find me dead:
Drowned in an ocean of ink or
Buried under an avalanche of paper.

Then those closest to me will clean out my room and find my secrets
scattered across the floor.

By the book shelf, my fears about becoming frozen and devoid of emotion.
In front of my bedside table, an acknowledgement of how much I cared.
Beside the rocking chair my honest thoughts and views about love.
At the foot of my bed, declarations of love to...?
And at the other end of my bed,
the journals where I recorded many of my darkest moments.
They are confessions of my worst feelings and failures,
Disconsolate prayers to God,
A true look at how far into the depths of despair I have plunged.


And those who loved me most will sit on my floor surrounded by the papers covered in my handwriting and wonder,
"Did we know her? Did we really know her at all?"
I am afraid no one knows me.
I am merely a stranger to them... and to myself.

Well, we all have a face / That we hide away forever / And we take them out and show ourselves / When everyone has gone / Some are satin some are steel / Some are silk and some are leather / They're the faces of the stranger / But we love to try them on
-'The Stranger' lyrics by Billy Joel (from the album I'm holding in the picture)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the somewhat morbid post. The first stanza was inspired by my messy room which always seems to have piles of paper littered everywhere... but then I started thinking what would I happen if someone read all these papers? I realized how startled they would be by the many secrets and hidden thoughts I hold that I've never even given hint of. So, it went downhill from then on. Also, these past few days I have been worried about myself. I've been feeling things, doing things, thinking things that I just don't want to believe is who I am. But I just don't know...

On a happier note, my friend Ever has started a blog called Intractable Whispers. It is a blog to better connect the lovely people of this blogging world. She has asked me to extend the invitation for you all to join. It is a place to share your writings and things that inspire you. If you would like to join go here. I would greatly encourage you to do so, even if you don't know Ever. It would be simply lovely if you did, but no pressure at all. :)

running away, not going anywhere

let's not leave the house today…

shall we be rebellious for once?
you laugh at that – i'm serious!
say you'll stay in with me.
we could snuggle into the eiderdown's warm embrace,
open a recipe book at random and make the first thing we see.
proclaim our favourite poems to each other!
waltz to the melodies we sing, forgetting words and tripping over each other.
we could compose a song of love in a minor key
(for of course i love you!
i would not be willing to break the rules with just any old person, you know).
we'll be renegades together!
traitors to the mundane existence!
outcasts of society! i must say it sounds awfully fun…
so please, forget your job. forget your life.
forget everything except me and what we will do today.
we may never want to go back again…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wrote this a couple months ago. But lately I've been wishing I really could run away from life. It's not that I am terribly unhappy it's just... life can just be a drag sometimes, you know?
Also, I've been wishing that I actually had someone that I'd want to "escape reality" with. That person is little more than an illusion I dreamed in the darkness to make loneliness seem less permanent.


{This is a minuscule playlist I made. These two songs reminded me of this post's concept so I thought, why not include them? Especially since they're by two of my most favourite artists. The first is 'Gold in the Air of Summer' by Kings of Convenience and the second is 'Our Day Trip' by Nina Nastasia. The lyrics can be found here and here.}

If you could run away, or rather, retreat from the real world where would you go? What would you do?

{Photo by me and made possible by my typewriter Donovan.}

Because the world needs more happy thoughts.

Here are a couple random things that have made my week happy:

I have been a part of a local, non-profit theatrical organization the past 8 years or so and this Spring they are putting on a production of Alice in Wonderland which I am going to be in!!
As in most versions, this play is a combination of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. I'm very excited to be in this play because those are two of my most favourite books ever!!! (The adaptation doesn't always follow the books as much as I would like, but c'est la vie.)

Auditions were on Saturday and I got the role of the White Rabbit! I am rather pleased about that.
I went into auditions not wanting any specific character but during auditions I decided that was the part I wanted most. I try not to get too attached to roles, though, in case I don't get them. :P (I don't view myself as an actress, really. Drama is a pleasant past time but I have no desire to pursue it later in life. I am a much better actress then I used to be, though. And I do get such an exhilaration from being on stage. I really don't understand how reticent moi could enjoy it so much, but I do.)

On Monday, my sister took us (my brothers, mom, & I) to her favourite used bookstore. We started in the children's section which was located downstairs but then moved upstairs to the "adult" books.
As I stood in the corner where the "A's" started and surveyed the shelves brimming with books just waiting for me, I couldn't decided whether it was heaven or hell! I suspect the latter since I grew very warm with all the bending over and developed a headache. Though the headache might have had something to do with the cat wandering about. (I am horribly allergic but I love cats so I pet them anyway.) I think all used bookshops should have cats. It was so wonderful to have that lissome black and white creature rubbing against my ankles obligingly as I perused the numerous titles.
Slowly and surely, I made my way through the adult fiction section. My purchases of the day were The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield and The Waves by Virginia Woolf. (Two books I read last year and loved.) I could have bought so much more since there were many books there to tempt me... But I don't have steady income so I try to keep my expenditures low. The two books I got were only about 10 dollars total. (I don't even want to tell you how many books my sister bought...! O_o)
I do hope to go back someday. I didn't even get to the poetry section!

Then, the next day (yesterday) I was at the Library looking at the books they have for sale in the foyer (books that people have donated and such). And usually, I can't find much that I want but I got lucky and found Inkheart by Cornelia Funke and Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf (which I haven't read yet but have been wanting to read). Got them both for $1.50! Oh yes.

Altogether it was a very good week for a bibliophile like me. But I have noticed the available spaces on my bookshelves are filling in rather rapidly......
What about you all? What has made you happy this week? :)



{Drawing of the White Rabbit is by Tenniel and other two pictures are mine.}

firefly wishes.

Remember how easy it was to catch fireflies when we were young? Carefree, we'd chase them on summer nights, our eager reach never failing to capture those luminous orbs twixt cupped hands.

Now I am old and their elusive glow always flits just beyond my reach...

I think fireflies are the unfulfilled wishes of children who have grown up.

{Just don't let me forget what it was like to be a child chasing fireflies. I feel more foolish now that I am more knowledgeable.}

I remember how we would put those fireflies in our mason jars and innocently think we could keep them forever.
{We are children; we are immortal. The night will last forever. Each wish will come true.}

But morning came and our firefly dreams vanished. If we had tried to keep them we would have seen their glow turn to darkness. It is better, I suppose, to remember how beautiful they were. When we were children and we were immortal.

{Pictures found here and here.}

If you are reading this...

Then I am... still alive. :P

I have been tagged by Lilah to do the Cassie therapy video tag! For those of you who have never heard of this tag, it is based off a therapy video that Cassie {a character from a T.V. show called Skins} made. I've actually never seen the show because, well, it's not really the type of thing I watch. But if you haven't seen the therapy video watch it here so this tag will make sense.

I am supposed to tag three people to also do this but, here's the thing: I hate tagging people because I'm always afraid I won't tag someone who really wants to do it. So I will do my usual cop-out thing and say: I tag YOU as a reader of my midnight train to do this if you so desire! Come on. You know you want to...

So here's what you have to do: fill in 12 likes, 1 love and 8 hates like Cassie in her therapy video. {The italicised bits are the parts you absolutely must include. Oh, and usually those parts are bold and not italicised but it's easier to see italics on my blog.}

Abracadabra, Wow!

I like boys with red hair and freckles and girls who wear vintage dresses.
I like strawberry milkshakes.
I like crying during movies and books but only if I’m alone.
I like the pleased shivers that run down my spine when people play with my hair.
I like garden gnomes and windchimes.
I like saying random, unexpected things to make people laugh.
I like old, used books that have written inscriptions in the front.
I like to say words like “pashmina”, “quixotic” and “phantasmal” because I like how they sound.
I like being left alone in an empty house.
I like drinking all beverages (except water) from a mug – it makes them taste better.
I like the poem "Interim" by Edna St. Vincent Millay.
I like to smell things.
I love discovering a new book or musician that suits me perfectly.
Today I anticlimactically welcomed the new year.

In some ways, I love everything.
It's less, it's less of a thing to like, it's less distinct, it's less particular
I like things that I like but I love everything
There’s more choice in like
Cos even the worst things have things you love in them
I don’t know what you mean about things I hate

I hate wanting to help someone but not knowing the right thing to say or do.
I hate metronomes.
I hate it when people say they don't like the Beatles when the only song they know by them is 'Yellow Submarine'.
I hate how I can work myself up into an emotional frenzy and I know I’m being asinine and overreacting but find myself unable to stop.
I hate repetitive sounds.
I hate it when people state the obvious but in a way I don't mind because I know I do it myself.
I hate stereotypes of teenagers.
I hate it when people talk when they just. need. to. be. silent.

I hate this, wow. . .
Sorry.