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ic0n_0bsessi0n_07
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Name: Kara
Country: United States
State: Missouri
Gender: Female
Interests: I<3 ICONS!I<3 ICONS!I<3 ICONS!
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/26/2005
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| i will never ask if you don't ever tell me.
i know you well enough to know you never
loved me. and all of this was all your fault. 
its better not to want anything. that way,
if it goes away, or doesn't happen ..
it just doesn't matter 
| | |
| It starts in my toes
makes me crinkle my nose
where ever it goes
i always know
that you make me smile
please stay for a while now
just take your time
where ever you go 
I still got a day or two ahead of me
till I'll be heading home,
into your arms again.
And the people here are asking after you.
It doesn't make it easier.
It doesn't make it easier to be away.
Sometimes I can't
See what's right in front of my eyes
Sometimes I can't
Believe that I believe 
"Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself." - Henry Miller 
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. Watch the dust grains moving in the light near the windows. Their dance is our dance. We rarely hear the inward music but we’re all dancing to it nevertheless, directed by what teaches us, the pure joy of the sun, our music master 
some things don't last forever, but some things do.
like a good song, or a good book, or a good memory you can take out
and unfold in your darkest times, pressing down the corners
and peering in close, hoping you still recognize the person you see there. 
Dreams are always crushing when they don't come true. But it's the simple dreams that are often the most painful because they seem so personal, so reasonable, so attainable. You're always close enough to touch, but never quiet close enough to hold, and it's enough to break your heart. 
Someday when we’ve been together for a very long time we’ll turn out the lights and slow dance on the porch, you’ll finish my sentences and i’ll borrow your glasses we’ll wonder were the time went and at night we’ll roll to the middle of our old bed into one another’s arms where we’ll kiss and hold each other and dream secrets that only old lovers know.
sometimes in life, you find a special friend.
someone who changes your life just by being part of it.
someone who makes you laugh until you cant stop.
someone who makes you believe that
there really is good in the world.
someone who convinces you that there really is
a locked door just waiting for you to open it. 
I think what messes
up us most is that we all have this
perfect picture of the way things should be...
If I'm not what you want,
then don't act like I am. 
Is anybody satisfied with who they really are?
You could be the moon and still be jealous of the stars. 
TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS.
by jamie tworkowski
Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.
Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.
She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.
The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.
She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.
I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.
Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.
She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.
On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.
Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.
After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.
She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.
As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."
I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.
We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.
We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.
I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember. | | |
| There are things that we never want to let go of,
people we never want to leave behind. But keep
in mind that letting go isn't the end of the world.
It's the beginning of a new life. There are things
that we don't want to happen but have to accept,
things we don't want to know but have to learn,
and people we can't live without but have to let go. 
Sometimes people hold onto something because they
fear nothing that great could ever happen to them again. 
Missing someone isn't about how long it's been
since you've seen them last or the amount of time
since you've talked. It's about that very moment
when you're doing something and you wish, you
wish that they were right there with you. 
Maybe we are meant to meet the wrong people before meeting the right one so that when we finally meet the right person, we will know how to be grateful for that gift. Maybe it is true that we don't know what we have until we lose it, but it is also true that we don't know what we have been missing until it arrives. Giving someone all your love is never an assurance that they will love you back. The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried, for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives. 
It's amazing what you realize when you lose something.
You get mad at yourself for not saying all the things
you could've a million times, you take for granted the
days spent doing nothing when you could have been
with them. Anyone can be taken at any time of our lives,
but we always wait until they're gone to say the things
we never had the courage to before. 
Sometimes you cannot believe what you see, you
have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever
going to have other people trust you, you must feel
that you can trust them too even when you're in
the dark. Even when you're falling.
--Tuesdays with Morrie 
For once in my life, I'm scared to death. I'm scared
of letting you in, I'm scared of taking a chance, I'm
scared of giving you the power to break me. 
Love is the beauty of the soul. 
My goal..what i want in my life...what i want to be able to look back on..is i want it to feel real. I want to look back and be able to say i felt everything in my life i could. That I fought as hard as i possibly could when it was needed. That when i needed to cry i did..that i believed the saying a good cry cleanses the soul. I want to take passion in all of those corny quotes..that i lived. That i found myself and lived my life. 
Sometimes you have to test someone. Not
because you don't trust them, but to see how
much they'll sacrifice for you. And sometimes
you have to let them go, not because you
suddenly stopped loving them, but to see if
they love you enough to come back. | | |
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it's really hard to fight for
what you want when you're not
even sure, what you want in the
first place 
All I wanted was for him to ask what was wrong.
For him to care about how I felt.
For him to hug me & hold me,
& promise that everything will be okay.
I need him tonight, but he's not here.
He always has a way of never being there 
Wherever I am, I always find myself
looking out the window,
wishing I was somewhere else. 
Every beginning has an end but
in life every end is a new beginning. 
It's just so hard loving someone from a distance. Because no matter how far you reach, no matter how many tears you cry, miles you walk, and tantrums you throw, they won't be physically near you. And it's so hard to grasp that, but it's after the frustrations pass you realize you would rather hold their heart from miles away than sit at home wrapped in the arms of one you know you'll never love. 
I just want a different ending to our same old story.
Let's try and make it last this time and prove them all wrong. 
I have always had this tendency to assume that change, when it happens, can only be for the worse you know? And lately, I kinda feel like that's not true. Like, whatever's waiting for me out there may not be that bad.
--Dawson's Creek 
Don't waste your time asking why such
an amazing thing could happen to you,
just let it happen. Don't doubt that you
could be loved, just let yourself be loved.
If you don't believe you're worthy of anyone's
time, then you won't be. Take yourself
seriously and others will too. 'Why' is a
wasteful question. Why? Cause that's the
way it's supposed to be. That's the only
answer you can have. Accept it. 
There are times when you have no clue what to say to someone, no clue how to end their pain but to give them a hug. It doesn't take away the pain, doesn't make the problem go away, but it gives them this little ounce of hope that makes it all okay, just for one moment.
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I WANT A GUY. . . . Who would move the hair away from my eyes and then kiss me. Hold my hand in line at the mall and make all the girls jealous. A pretty boy. But not so pretty that I feel awkward. Someone who would think I was beautiful, If I dressed so trashy it was classy. Someone who would sing to me at random moments, who would let me sleep on their chest. A boy who would beat the crap out of someone if they called me fat. I want someone who would call me 3 times a day if he went away. Someone who would let me gossip to him, And would just smile and agree with everything I said. He would throw stuffed animals at me when I acted dumb, And then dog pile on me and kiss me a million times. And someone who would make fun of me just to make me laugh… He would surprise me with 25 cent rings, And we would have contest of how far we could spit our gum. He would take me to the park and put his hands around my waist, And give me big bear hugs all the time. Someone who would kiss my neck… Just to have a reason to tell me how much he likes my new perfume, And at night we would dance in our pajamas, And we'd always take pictures in photo booths.. He would never turn down a trip to the boardwalk, And we'd play tag on the beach. He would tell all his friends about me and smile when he did it. We would sit on the kitchen floor…. And eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches…. And we'd make out in the pouring rain. He would tell me when he didn’t think something looked good…. And I wouldn’t mind. He would TRY to teach me how to play the guitar, But we'd just end up laughing at each other. He would run his fingers through my hair even if it was dirty. He would share lollipops with me and get along with all of my friends. He would never be afraid to say “I love you” in front of his friends, And we would argue of silly things with me then make up. I want a boy who would take me to target….. To just make fun of some of the stuff there. We would kiss at midnight on new years, And make funny faces at each other when I’m on the phone. I want a boy who would count stars with me and be friends with my family. I want someone who would stay home with me on a Friday night, Just to help me make a dinner, And watch movies together under the same blanket, And squirt water guns at each other in the house. Someone who would tell me I’m beautiful but not too often… Someone who would look me in the eye and tell me something serious… That was also funny and makes me promise not to laugh. Someone who would make me laugh like no one else could. Someone who would hold me closer than normal when I’m sick. We would buy tons of disposable cameras and take lots of pictures. But mostly, I want someone who would be my best friend, And would never lie to me or break my heart.. | | |
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