In Honour of Autumn

In honour of autumn
I lift up my head.

In honour of autumn
I colour life brightly.

In honour of autumn
I draw a new template
I turn a new leaf
I breathe again
I breathe anew.

I smell autumn on the air,
I feel it with the trees,
In the leaves,
In the sun
And the distance that grows between.

In honour of autumn
I think new thoughts.

In honour of autumn
I see life differently
Than the blinding brightness
Of summer
Or the soft whiteness
Of winter.

In honour of autumn
I feel alive again.

And here you were thinking this was just a poem. Nah, ya dolls, my tribute to autumn is much more intimate than intricately woven words.

Sunset

A touch of heaven's golden sheen glows across the sky; celestial treasure and richness; unadulterated beauty; casting its shimmering rays in dazzling sparkles across the water to dance atop the waves. It is golden, perfect fire, fleeting, only a taste, before silver dots the darkening sky to take its place. The glow remains long after the fire has gone, taunting, teasing, the aftertaste of incomparable, stunning nature.

(Cover) Violet Hill - Coldplay

I love this song with a distinct passion, and changing it ever so slightly to fit my pitch was a definite delight! Coldplay, you are most fabulous, I'll listen to your music forever after~

This is my rendition of artistic liberation; I hope I have not butchered anything.

Enjoy!

Graduation

The excitement escalates with promises of cash and a planned out future;
Parties are planted and the seeds grow in number,
Until every day is a new chance for drink, for dance, for music,
For peer-pressured decisions.

At the climax of the mark of a new beginning the celebrations of mediocrity
Develop in size and explode in importance,
Until every person is involved because, what a sin it would be
Not to be there.

The denouement unravels with a breath of weight-lifting relief, but wait:
The festivities come to an abrupt and sudden end
And the real world calls for every person to move, to work, to pay,
To contribute to society.

In the aftermath of the drunken laughter and blinding flashes of party lights
The weight of responsibility comes crashing down
With the impact of a piano falling from a tense cable, everything scatters
Amongst clattering keys.

The stragglers are left floating in limbo under the assumption that they know nothing;
The action-takers are leaping on every opportunity
In feverish panic with too much rush, too much restlessness, too much fervour,
Transitioning simplicity to chaos.

The hunt for foundation and settlement and security is on in high competition,
Caught up in the flurry of planning too much
When there is no way to plan for the unknown, the uncertain, the predictable
And you can only decide to be.

#KutlessGLORY #NeverTooLate

https://twitter.com/becrecordings/status/474588583048011776

" We've picked a winner! Congratulations to Elise Brianna @elisebbenedict on Twitter for her piano and vocals cover! Check out her video below and tell her congrats on Twitter."

Many thanks to BEC Recordings~

Ba-bam. Boom, baby. I've won me a cover contest; am I proud or am I proud? #KutlessGLORY #NeverTooLate #covercontest #becrecordings

Let It Go, Frodo

Need I say more?

Endurer

There are many characteristics that make up my personality. I have had multiple 'eureka' moments where I have suddenly realized why I do certain things that I do; my avoidance of conflict, my inability to speak my mind if there's the slightest chance that I might cause someone offence, my penchant for compromise, compromise, compromise. One of those 'eureka' moments came today with the title of 'Endurer'. No, that is not a real word.  Yes, I took some liberty with the English language. So sue me. Or rather, don't, because I'm broke. But that's besides the point.

'Endurer' is yet undefined, so I will define it for you. Endurers are people who, when faced with a problem that causes them a certain amount of angst, they almost never do anything to change it if their actions in doing so will cause anyone at all some amount of pain. When confronted with something or someone who brings them strife, rather than deal with it, an Endurer will, simply, endure it. Dealing with the problem would have them going out of their comfort zone and confronting someone or something, causing discomfort and maybe even pain. In an effort to avoid that, an Endurer endures the issue at hand for however long is necessary. Until they find a solution that works for everyone.
There's probably another term or name in the field of psychology or some such study that describes this, but Endurer is perfect for me. It may sound ridiculous to many, but many others will relate. There are positive and negative sides to enduring this way, and often the negative side is more prominent because enduring in these kinds of situations isn't doing anyone any good; not you, not the cause of the problem or the people around you. Yes, this is part of who I am. Yes, it is troublesome not only for me but for those around me; yes, I am trying to change it and no, I do not need people telling me that "all of my problems would be solved" if I would "just speak up about it"!
I get it, alright? I am passive. I am quiet. I endure in silence until I can't take it anymore, and yes that is stupid and downright unreasonable in a lot of cases, but come on. Really, humanity, do you think that I do not know as much? I do not need the constant reminders of how my personality is such a hindrance to happiness because the world likes to take advantage of the way I am - I am not saying that is truth, I am saying that that is what I have been told all too often. I don't need that, thank you very much. Not only does it make me tear myself down, regardless of how false it may be, it is excruciatingly unhelpful. And it hurts. We can all be so judgemental of other people and who they are - I am as guilty of this as the next guy - when we don't think before we spit out our biased, abrasive opinions. Yes, I have character flaws and I bring some of it upon myself, but the thing is, everyone does. Bluntly saying whatever comes to mind based on your own bias is one of those flaws. Sometimes I wish I was privy to that one, but alas, I am not blessed with that curse. I have plenty of my own to deal with.
I endure the criticism of my personality and habits, I say "I know, I know, it's stupid, I'm stupid, and I'm trying to change, I'm trying to learn" to all the calloused tongues that lash out and tell me so, but I am fully aware of it. There are many who don't realize their own faults, and that is a fault in itself. I myself endure because it's a hard thing to change. I make the same mistake, I tell myself not to make it again, but then I revert to my knee-jerk reaction in a time of crisis. It's what I do.
It's what I know.
Change is something that, often times, may not seem possible. Really, it's just not probable, and I take that into account and turn not probable into not possible. That is my loss, clearly, and I know that.
Why is it that those who seem to have the desire to fix me think that I don't know what my faults are?
I don't believe that anyone besides God can know a person better than that person knows themselves, though that does not mean that we realize what all of our shortcomings are - we don't see it sometimes, or we choose to ignore it - and so in the end, who are we to judge?
Leave judgement unto God for He is the only one fair and just enough to carry it out.
I don't need anyone to tell me that I am passive and have an avoidant personality, I don't need anyone to tell me that that gets me into trouble and that it would do me well to think of new strategies to deal with those kinds of situations. Your input may have been helpful four years ago, but I have since then discovered those traits of mine quite extensively. I have also discovered the things about those traits that I find comforting and helpful, traits that I may even have come to love. When I am told that I am "too reserved" and "need to assert myself more" to "get my opinion out there" I shut myself down to the idea and to the people telling me as much. I am an endurer and an observer, I don't want to stir things up and make them more difficult than they already are and I enjoy the peace of watching from the sidelines and forming my own opinions that I am perfectly happy to keep to myself. Sometimes, but only sometimes, I will feel comfortable to share my thoughts. But I find more often than not that either my opinions aren't developed enough to be articulated properly through speech, or I simply don't feel like paying my two-cents' worth.
Like I said, I have no cash to spare at this point. I only loan what I know for certain I can pay back in short order.
That said, my point is made in here somewhere...I hope. I am an Endurer. I will endure discomfort, I will endure irritation, I will endure annoyance, pain, forwardness that I never asked for, opinions that I never wanted to hear, and I will endure criticism of my very personality to protect everyone but myself from harm. It's not noble, it's stupid, and yet at the same it is synonymous to saying that I don't give up easily. If I can endure then I do not have the tendency to quit, and that, if nothing else, is an encouraging thought.

Endure

Questioning Shakespeare

"Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner:
I see a woman may be made a fool
If she had not a spirit to resist."

(Katherina, The Taming of the Shrew, III, ii, 221-223)

I've been informed that explaining the meaning behind the last two lines above will be included in a test I am to take in English class tomorrow. I could have spent the afternoon tearing my hair out at the roots in an effort to go into whatever layers these lines might hold, but I decided to ignore the words instead. I'm still deciding whether or not that was a good decision.

"If she had not a spirit to resist": would that mean the same as "if she didn't have the willpower and/or strength to resist" or "if she didn't have someone to resist"? A thought to ponder. I would feel like a cheater if I asked for help on the question, which is why I haven't talked about it. My pride is in question here, which is a little bit of a sad reality. She could be saying that she would be made a fool of if she didn't have the strength to resist standing there to argue with Petruchio, her newly wedded husband. Is that exactly what it means, or am I missing those "layers" behind the statement that my teacher so cryptically referred to?

Could she be saying that she might be made a fool of if she let Petruchio, as her husband, order her as he pleased and carry out his dominance to zero resistance on her part, regardless of his demands? If she blindly follows him now and accepts his word as law, no matter how horrendous, eventually he might have her doing things that turn her into an utter fool if she doesn't have the strength to stand up for herself? Even in a male-dominant society where women are expected to submit, if she submits without question she may end up looking the fool for not fighting back when the occasion warrants it? And yet at the same time, should she continually display her so-criticized shrewish nature she might go over the top and, thus, look the fool. To abandon her shrewd mannerisms would be to let Petruchio win, also making her the fool, if she doesn't resist his efforts and maintain her reputation. Yet to keep her shrewish ways would be to offer society further reason to mock her and keep away from her. She would remain oppressed in her own home by a father who seems to favour his younger daughter over her.

Is that layered enough for you, dear teacher? Maybe I'm entirely missing the point of the question.

Perhaps she's under the impression that after all this time of being submissive to males, women have not resisted and are thus made fools of. They've become the laughing-stock of society and she doesn't want to put up with that any more. But of course, one doesn't simply step out from millenniums' worthy of tradition, placing a toe out of line would make her further a fool under the ridicule of those around her, and she must resist her feelings of rebelliousness in order to maintain her already broken reputation.

Those lines alone could mean any number of things! How much am I actually supposed to draw out of them? I have no idea. I feel a little overwhelmed, to say the least. When a teacher says they're layered with meaning, how many layers does he mean? Am I over-thinking it? Am I not thinking it over enough? Have I completely missed every bull's-eye, every point, I was supposed to come close to? English class is so terribly stressful in grade 12...

Cheers, you intense teacher, you. I suppose I'll know the answers to my questions after tomorrow's test.

Past the Tip of Your Cigarette

http://juanthemexican.tumblr.com/post/76604175328

Admiring the world

Past the tip of your cigarette,

Watching the embers burn

With memories of regret.

Holding deep inside

Your sorrow and your sadness,

Carrying with you everywhere

The gouging pain and madness

Of this life.

Taking every day

As each one of them comes,

Running head on

Into each and every one.

Grasping at the hope

That mocks you from afar,

Clutching to the feelings

That hold you down like tar

To this earth.

Spare a Coin

A coin clicks down on the palms of diminished value.

Hands held out, pleading for some kind of hope.

Clothes tattered, torn in disarray

Hair unkempt, tangled, matted.

How can we walk passed subconsciously,

Avert our gaze and know we're free,

When all they need is someone to care?

How can we walk passed subconsciously,

When we can see their pain so obviously?

"Just" Another Sunday

I attended church this morning for the fourth advent Sunday before Christmas (3 more days on this side of the world!). An average-Sunday kind of experience except for the reminder that it is indeed Winter Break. But something made it feel not-so-average, not anything that happened out of the ordinary but rather the fact that it was so ordinary. Today started out with the kind of average that could fit into a book out there somewhere, the kind of average that seems fictional. Does that make sense? No, probably not to anyone but me. So extraordinarily average...

A balding, middle-aged man sat in the pew in front of me with several of his young children. I couldn't tell if they were all his or not, but I guessed that at least two of the young boys were. They'd chattered all through the music, distracting we in the row behind them until the constant reprimands of their mother spurred their father to join them on the pew. They settled as one might expect, influenced by his mere presence. The fact that he was there next to them reminded them that now was not a time for chatter with their friends, now was not a time for boisterous play. They were supposed to be calm and considerate of those around them.

What kind of cruel punishment was this?

And was it cruel punishment for them or for us?

The promise of cookies during the break in the service was assurance to the rest of us that they would later return to their pew even more wired than before. I watched the children interact, especially the brothers who had sat in front of me.

Violence.

The older tormenting the younger by shoving him, grabbing his hands to incapacitate him just because it was possible, was a less-than-enjoyable cause for the memory of my Social Justice class a few weeks ago to spring to mind. A study on the issue of Conflict reveals that humans are the most violent at two years of age, around the time when they learn to stand, to walk, to take action to meet their own lesser needs, and to throw obnoxious fits and terrifying temper tantrums. I write this about humans in third person but I am indeed a part of those statistics, however regretful I may be on the subject. Atrociously enough, if two years olds were the size of a teenager or adult then their every-half-hour actions would have them facing daily charges for assault. The number of times a toddler will react violently towards another being can be recorded in intervals of thirty minutes, sometimes less I am sure. A question asked in that class in response to this was whether the violence is learned or human nature. I quickly developed an opinion that violence was neither learned nor human nature, it was a part of the sin that is upon us the moment we emerge from the womb. We are all sinners, we all have sinned, do sin, and continue to sin, and this violence is undoubtedly a part of that.

Naturally, in public school class about the atrocious violence of humanity from a secular perspective, ideas of religion and faith aren't what one might call "supported". Much less the idea of sin.

But is this deep, dark subject what made the morning feel so wonderful and so ordinary both at one time? Decidedly not, thank heavens. Rather, I was so struck by the average essence of the middle-aged, balding man sitting with his children in a church-pew. As I only had outward appearance to judge by, I contemplated that the parents had lived in Abbotsford for at least several years, if not all their lives. Their children had been born and were now being raised in the same house. Dad had a steady job, mom was a stay-home mom for the time being, organizing play dates and preparing three meals a day for the family, shopping for groceries as regularly as ever and cleaning the house on at least a weekly basis.

By society's standards, this was a completely and stereotypically ordinary family in a very ordinary circumstance of living. Judging by outward appearance.

Every individual has their story, and whether it seems unremarkably (or in my point of view, quite remarkably) ordinary or not, it has its dazzling sides, its exciting moments, and its less-than-enticing sides as well. But today I was seeing ordinary, extraordinarily ordinary, sitting contentedly right in front of me and I would be lying if I said that I was not coveting it for myself.

Why would I crave the ordinary lifestyle when I've had it "so good"? When I've had "such amazing experiences"? When I've been through "things that change my perspective from that of anyone else's" allowing me to "see things in a way that few others do"? I wouldn't trade my experiences from the world, but does that prevent me from desiring the comfort and security of the ordinary?

Obviously not.

There are points in life when the "excitement" that I have experienced is exhausting. There are points in my life when "just being normal" looks like an amazing advantage and privilege that I am not privy to. When fitting in looks out of reach and you contemplate whether you even want to fit in anyways, and when experiences cause pain that doesn't seem to let you move on, ordinary looks like a safe haven amidst the chaos and the most refreshing oasis in the middle of a sweltering desert on the driest of summer days.

I have been gifted, blessed, relentlessly given experiences of a lifetime that I can look back on forever into the future and draw from until the day I die. I have been through things that I will never forget, nor will I ever go through again because of the uniqueness they carry. Do I have reason to complain? I do not. I've been given more than I could ever ask for, I wouldn't give up my life experiences for anyone or anything and I will stand by that resolution forevermore but there are always times where I have to take a minute to recollect myself. There are always times where I see what I would be like if I didn't have these experiences and I think to myself "Now would that have been so bad?" and I realize that no, it wouldn't have. It would be quite beautiful, actually. I can dream, I can imagine, and I can wish. I could have been society's definition of "normal". I could have "fit in". There would have been pains there and many hardships just as with any frame of life but I could have been "normal". And would that have been a bad thing? No. But knowing what I know now, would I trade this life for that one?

Simply no.

You make choices throughout your life and mine have led me here. This isn't the life I chose but it is the life I choose to keep...or to change.

Flaws - Bastille Cover

Just one more for the weekend. I'm on a roll or something. Cool stuff, bro.

Say Anything - Tristan Prettyman Cover

Everyone knows how utterly terribly I am at posting videos consistently. I seem to do the most around Christmas time - who knows why?

Ta-da!

Dressember for IJM

Did you know 27 million people are currently trapped in slavery? That's more than during the entire course of the Trans-Atlantic slave trade. 

This dear Social Justice 12 course that I'm taking at my high school is such a darn incentive to participate in causes, its gone and got me nabbed. This heart of mine...

I'm participating in Dressember, a month of dresses, to help International Justice Mission end modern-day slavery. 

Basically I'll be wearing a dress/skirt every day of December to support the cause, with the hopes that enough people will sponsor me to reach my personal goal of $50 in the much larger goal of the whole issue!

Visit www.dressember.net and consider sponsoring me. If you're already sold on it, why not head straight for https://www.ijmfreedommaker.org/campaign/2031/Dressember-for-IJM/ to support IJM in Dressember?

This should be very interesting. Because in case you weren't aware, I have a tendency to not wear dresses or skirts. It's been a while since the last time I did.

A Word A About Ted Dekker

     I believe it's safe to say that I have graduated from my obsession with the fantasy that is Harry Potter's World of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That is not to say that I've stopped being impressed, delighted, and fascinated by J.K. Rowling's series of 7 books but I do believe that I have moved on to more fulfilling favourites.
     Ted Dekker is undoubtedly quite an exceptional and inspiring favourite, maybe even my utmost favourite at this very moment in time on the 31st of August at 1:39 PM, though given the fickle tendencies of the human mind it can be expected that my order of favourites will change in the very near future.
     But for now Ted Dekker is my favourite.
     I'd like to bring attention to his incredible ability to bring to the surface the deeper and more confusing issues regarding Life and the beliefs of those who live it; to spin these issues subtly into a tale that holds just the right amount of action, just the right sprinkle of gore, just the right addition of a thrill and a touch of mystery and suspense, and just the right side dish of romance. And within this intricately, beautifully woven tapestry of a tale, the heavier realistic issues are addressed, subtle yet with such impact, in a tangle of delicious fiction. His extensiveness, accuracy, and enlightening manner is one such as I have not encountered elsewhere to date.
     In the true sense of the word, quite awesome. In the true sense of the word, quite awe-striking.
     Though it has been a couple of years since my perusal of his series, the Circle - Black, Red, White, and Green - and the Lost Books series, my very recent reading of the books Showdown, Saint, and Sinner have brought quite a number of relevant, striking questions to mind; issues that I have fretted over with passion only to find no answers in my mind. Though Dekker does not exactly present me with those sought answers he does leave the mind with feelings of high surety and understanding.

     It has to be impossible to step away from his writing without looking at at least one heavy thought path in a completely different light. Through his writing, Ted Dekker works in realms of thought and question, love, and good and evil.
     At this very moment in time, at 1:48 PM on August the 31st of the year 2013, Ted Dekker is my absolute favourite Weaver of Words.

To Be Thankful For Suffering

     In the morning of the third of August, 2013, while I was in the kitchen baking the black midnight cake for my mother's birthday, I suddenly realized how it was possible to be thankful for suffering. I believe that the only reason for this is that I am, quite officially, thankful for the hardships I've recently undergone. "I do not regret", as I've said before. The reality of that actually hit me for some reason that I don't even understand.

     Why didn't I notice this before?

     Honestly, I have no idea. It doesn't make much sense. All I can say is that I am grateful that I've come to this realization. It's a freeing concept, a relieving thought, one that I would hope that all could come to terms with. In the end, however, it's probably safe to say that the only people who will come to terms with it are those who have undergone notable hardship, hardship that has brought them to the brink of despair, hardship that changed them.

     It would be a lie to say that I was still the same after some of the things I experienced within the last two years. I'm different from before, not only in body but in mind and heart as well, and I know it. If your hardships don't change you it's difficult to be thankful for them. The ones that change you are the ones you understand the reason for, the ones you can look back on and seriously believe that "yes, it was worth it, and this is why".

     I can be thankful for what has happened because I know that I have learned from it and changed for the better. I can be thankful for what has happened because I know that I came away from it better off than before. We can't always see the reason for why we go through what we go through, but there always is one. That is the theme of my life: There is a reason.

     Everything has a reason.

          There is always a reason.

               And that is why I always ask "why"?

     When you finally see the reason behind it, it feels like a splash of cold water on an unsuspecting face. A hard slap from reality. It's a beautiful thing. And yet, searching for the reason can be a long, tiresome process. The challenge there is not getting too caught up in that process, blinding yourself to everything else. The challenge is believing that there is indeed a reason to the turmoil, even when you can't see what it is.

       In the morning of the third of August, 2013, while I was in the kitchen baking the black midnight cake for my mother's birthday, I suddenly realized how it was possible to be thankful for suffering. A beautiful realization, most certainly.

Vocabulary

     In my musings of today, after going through much intelligible reading, I have found Vocabulary to be the thing of the day - the element in life that most fascinates me on this pristine, warm, Canadian/British Columbian day.
     I have an unsatiated desire to use long, complicated terms with simple meanings in every sentence that sprouts from between my lips.
     And I find myself incapable of typing and sometimes speaking a single sentence without using descriptive images that are most likely quite unnecessary.
     Reading actual books is something that has drawn me once again, as I was quite unhealthily obsessed with reading manga for some time (probably still am, only I'm in denial over it because I keep telling myself I need to stop but it's terribly difficult). On that note, if you ever come to a point where you are in search of some excellent reading material, or perhaps you stumble across these books by chance, two that I recommend would be Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan and The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. The latter, I have no yet even finished reading. I still recommend it to you, which is saying something. It's fabulous. It's beyond fabulous. They both are. And this coming from someone who doesn't tend to read this style of books. Like my friend, the fabulous Connie Bahnman, said to me after recommending them in the first place: "Not my cup of tea, but John Green MAKES IT my cup of tea."
     So true.

             
Thus I have accidentally on purpose advertised two books and one fabulous author. (If you were to read Will Grayson, Will Grayson you may end up understanding my obsession of the word fabulous) I meant this rant to be about my incurable desire for the use of abnormally fabulous vocabulary, but I suppose I must give credit where credit is due. I would not have felt this way had I not read these novels.

Now stop reading this post. Go, be free, remove yourself from the Boredomverse and find yourself these books. You have been tasked, I have completed my mission, and all that's left is for you to obey!
     Please do.
          The above is most definitely not a request, though I ultimately made you read it as though it was.