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ISING247
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Name: Aleen
Gender: Female
Interests: singing, reading, writing, music in general, friends, disneyland, church, bungee jumping and lots of danger
Occupation: student
Message: message me
Member Since:
9/5/2006
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| almost Christmaseverywhere that I go, people are looooooking up, people are shaaaaring love See the look in their eye, something is shiiiining bright, is it the tiiiiime that's right? Seems to be such a joyful occasion, every face has a smile! And it's starting to feel like my favorite time of the year! And it's almost Christmastime, the time of the year, that's so full of cheer yes it's almost Christmastime and I'm glad that it's finally heeeeere! Put a wreath on the door and hang up the misteletoe, look at the faaaaalling snow Put a log on the fire, and let's take a walk tonight under the staaaaarry sky Let's remember the days of our childhood, like we rememer toniiiiiiight, And remember the one who was born so that we could have liiiiiiiiight .... Corny, but amazingly catchy songster song to the max! I love Christmas, but it feels less and less like that sweet time of the year as every year goes by! Especially, because it seems like more and more people are keen to ruin any sort of spirit inside you. Signs of Joy and real gladness are made a threat and something to be treated with skepticism or disdain! All I can say is don't give in to that sort of nonsense! Please truly have a merry Christmas | | |
| GrassPile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work-
I am the grass, I cover all.
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?
I am the grass.
Let me work.
-carl sandberg
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| Till We Have Faces...When the times comes to you at which you will be forced to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face TILL WE HAVE FACES? -C.S. Lewis from the best book in this world: Till We Have Faces Before Him, all questions die away. HE is the answer. How can we meet Him until we know who we are, until we recognize who He is? And...there is so much more to this---just read it--try to grasp it! | | |
| 372After great pain, a formal feeling comes- The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs- The stiff Heart questions, 'was it He, that bore,' And 'Yesterday, or Centuries before'? The Feet, mechanical, go round- A Wooden way Of Ground, or Air, Ought- Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone- This is the Hour of Lead- Remembered, if outlived, As freezing persons, recollect the Snow- First-Chill-then Stupor-then the letting go- -Emily Dickinson ah! | | |
| ?What do you want more? What do you want more than those other desires you have? What good thing can you do that will make you keep on doing it; that will take up more of your passion and energy than any addiction ever could? What is it? What do you want more? i'm trying to figure that out- it's going to be way sweet when I do. | | |
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