Tigris Lilium

Another one from way back. Yay to past creativity and lack of some now :)

 

I thought I'd put in two today. They were things I wrote an INCREDIBLY long time ago. Enjoy, all :)

@ Copyright to Amie Vermeer

It's been awhile. But we had to do some creative writing in class. I wrote about my cottage. I really need to send it to my mother. I'm sure she'd love it. Hope you enjoy! >_<

It's a terrible thing when you tell your heart not to feel. After a whole life of living based on feeling, telling your heart not to feel that feeling is like... telling yourself to die. Currently, I'm dying inside. I'm telling myself to not feel for a lot of things: jealousy, caring deeply for someone, disappointment, nervousness... All those sort of things. Of course, saying no to these things are important, but don't they make who you are?

"Good morning. I listen to the emptiness inside, outside, all around me and still I hear nothing. I feel empty in an empty room. Nothing has changed. Nothing is different. Good afternoon. I listen in a room, bustling with people. Conversations of couples, beautiful couples, and talks of laundry and who's fated to cook tonight. I simply listen, trying to make sense of the human mind because I can't even make sense of my own. Good evening, I sit at a table easily talking about tests and life and the perils of being a hard working, ever ambitious student. I'm alone in a bustling room. I see people I care about, but don't rise to talk. I wait. Once I'm acknowledged, and sometimes only if, I open my heart. Good night. Things have been said today. Things have been avoided. Things have been pushed to the side. And things have been buried even deeper so that no one can really tell how much I ache. I listen. The quiet. I actually value it, compare to what people may think. I'm alone in a quiet room. My heart opens, my book opens and I say good night to God."

@ Amie Vermeer

"sometimes i wonder where i fit in this big ol' world.

and sometimes i wonder where i'll be taken in life.

sometimes, i hope i can change a life for the better, make a difference and be a model.

sometimes i wonder if i'm failing.

then i remember: God's carrying me through it all and he's in control.

sometimes i just need to remind myself.

and sometimes i need to remind myself that it's not about me but about Him.

sometimes isn't really sometimes when you think about it all the time."

@ Amie Vermeer

Soul: Part Two

 

"Soul: Part One"

"Music is who I am, it's what is found in my heart, carved there in the mucky muck of blood and organs. But it's there. Music is who I am (aside from theatre, that is). It's written in my heart, scribed on the lengths of my arms, smithed to the passion in a voice, playing through amateur fingertips on an amateur piano. I may not be good, but music speaks to me, to the inner core within, to a secret calling. I'm committed to music, just as I am committed to God, family and theatre. Harmonies speak to the deeper parts in my stomach, and even better yet, harmonies as one set my soul alight. God created music. He carved into the mucky muck. He sheared away the mucky muck for just a moment in time for it to become blatantly clear to me. God speaks through music. He speaks to me through music so that I can speak through music as well. And even when the mucky muck, the stress and busyness of each and every day, the silence that pertains to quiet thinking, there will always be the song. A song meant for me, still unwritten but still being written, perfect in its completion. Because it's God song, not mine. I'm just the deliverer. And music is who I am."

@ Amie Vermeer

"Steady"

"I used to be steady. I used to know who I was. I used to walk around, feet firmly planted on the ground at times, and leave footprints behind me in the cold concrete. Because I was steady and confident and positive, my path was right. I used to think I was steady, save for the voice inside my head whispering "Not without me, you aren't." I was steady until He spoke to me "Because you aren't sure." I was steady until my world was shaken. And when my world was shaken, I was brought back to life. I looked behind me, no footprints were stomped into the ground with stubborn pride. The only thing now was the whisperings of humble feet. Because I was steady and a steady person being humbled by the Great One involves being carried. I was carried, never walking on my own. He was the one leaving the pounding fists on the floor, He was the one who was making my path. I just chose to ignore it. But now I achknowledge who He is in my life now.

I used to be steady. Then I grew. I made and make choices of who I am today. I am a friend more than I am someone to ask for rules and regulations. I am a person who doesn't ask "how are you" simply for the asking or the making myself feel better by looking like I care person. I am a person who asks "How are you" because I do care. I care about ties, bonds, hand shakes, hugs and love. I care about those things not because I'm steady, not because I'm strong and rooted. I care about those things because that's who I am and who the Great One meant to be. I hide my problems not because I'm steady but because I am unsteady. If I was steady, I'd be open. I'd boast of my innate problems continually. And of course, I'd refuse to admit I had problems. My Father shook my ground years ago, teaching me that life isn't about my problems but, instead, others concerns. He shook me, opening the ground, swallowing me and spitting me back out far from the person I once was.

I used to be steady. I'm not anymore. I don't need myself, but I do need people, my friends and my family. I need God. I need someone to hold my hand. I need to vent when I'm upset. I need to apologize when I'm wrong. I'm human. I'm not immortal. I make mistakes. I get angry. I find fault with others and I mostly find fault with myself. If I were steady, I would be none of these things because then I was proud and I'd refuse to admit it.

But I am steady in one thing. I am steady because He holds me close and roots me and I know that I am loved by a God transcending time.

I used to be steady. Now I'm sure. "

@ Amie Vermeer

I suppose that feeling things come to an end gets to you. A little emo piece having a few subtle hints towards my favourite show "Naruto." And by subtle hints, there's only one and it's at the end. Just something to think about... how a parent's death can affect a child.

I think it's very easy to have certain "triggers" that toggle us back to our childhood memories. True, I've had nothing like this happen to me, but I do have those same triggers for other memories. And I think, in some ways and when we're ready, we continually face them to try to forget. And once we do, we know that live still moves on.

Life always moves on. And it's best to realize that we don't have much time to live it. We just need to keep on breathing.

 

"The End"

Where the beginning ends and the ending begins is where I stand. Lost, confused and trying to find another path to walk on. A door closes, another opens and somewhere in the middle I'm stuck in the darkness. I'll wait until something happens, until I get another special nudge from a voice that I constantly listen for. I'll wait until another beginning is made, another ending comes to a close. I'll wait for the next sign to direct my way. I'll wait for the lamp to light its way. I'll wait for the gentle prodding of that voice. I'll always wait for the end. I'll always wait for this strange sense of calm and happiness and nervousness and loss. I'll always wait for my beginning.

@ Amie Vermeer

Written: unknown date

"Bag of Bones"

Sharp cold blade under soft, warm flesh. A jutting hip under folds of warm cotton. Gaunt cheek and hollow eyes hidden by warm smiles and smooth disguise. A bag of bones, they call me. A bag of bones with skin hanging from skinny bones. It's not enough. Never enough.

@ Amie Vermeer

 Written: Oct 19, 2007

"Keep Moving"

Who'd've though we'd end up this way. I never saw it coming. Did you? How long did you know Why didn't you do something about it?

I suppose I'm just as lost as you are.

To think that we've been at the same place not that long ago.

It keeps on turning: a globe, spinning on top a pedestal with no care for time, space, heart.

Dizziness sets in only to disorientate and set you on your feet to suffer your way through life.

Too bad things keep moving.

@ Amie Vermeer

Written: Oct 18, 2007

"Storm"

I saw the cloud you walked under. Let it go. It weighs too heavily on you. Let me take it from you: lifting, pulling, relenting and fighting. You're not ready to let go. Fine. I'll still be sitting, waiting, wanting to help you. Don't let it keep on raining. Don't let the thunder shake who you are. Don't let the lighning scare you from being how you were made.

When you're ready, I'll help you bear your load.

@ Amie Vermeer

Written: Oct 18, 2007

"Trees"

I I were a tree, I'd be the one who'd always be there: to shelter you, comfort you, hold you, I'd protect you from the storm you walk under. As you age, I will too, growing deeper, taller, stronger. I'll hold you up when you're too tired to stand, keep you dry from the rain that falls, keep you cool when it gets too hot to think straight. If you cry, I'll give you colours. If you smile, I'll give you spring. I'll blossom for you in every new year, even though I've miss you in the closed bleak months of cold. I'll stand firm for you. I'd be your pillar. You can read about God to me and I'll sit there, content knowing you trust me and me alone. I won't move. Remember, I'm your rock, your strength and your reminder that living is more than worthwhile.

@ Amie Vermeer

You ever think that artistic thought ever ends? Especially at the wee hours of 2:30 am and a 13 hour day play practice?

 Written: Oct 17, 2007

"Lonely"

Occasionally, I am lonely. I yearn for a heart to sit with me, talk with me and tell me everything will be okay. I want consolance, affirmation, a sense that I am worth more than the ordinary. Sometimes I am lonely and all I want is comfort, a hug, an arm around my shoulder to tell me everything will be okay. I need assurance that I'm not alone - that I'm not the only person who is feeling as alone as I am now. These days, I am lonely and all I need is someone to squeeze my hand and tell me it's okay to cry.

@ Amie Vermeer

Written: 09/29/07

Saturday
Saturday, I woke up and wished life would stop. Just for a fraction of time. To gather breath. To assemble calm. To straighten though. But the insistent and unrelenting scream of my alarm clock just proved to me that life never stops for breath, calm or thought. Life always keeps on moving.

Written: 10/03/07

Un-Binge
I think about the way it slides down my throat. Sticky, wet, clingy, tasting like sweet heaven. It enticed me, this taste, yet the bitterness afterward stops me. I shouldn't be doing this. I should stop. I have to stop. It's a barrier between my life now and what I want my life to be, what's it's supposed to be. It's not worth this ache I feel afterward. Just step back, breathe and say "no." I can stop.

@ Amie Vermeer

 I wrote this last night after coming back from play practice. I felt like I needed to understand my character just a little bit more than surface level. Mix going out with friends and intense feelings of creativity, this is what I came up with.

It's based on a song that we sing in the play, just before my character comes on stage. There's a lot to be said about her, even though she's on stage for a total of about ten minutes of the entire play. This is how she arrived at this moment.

Written: Sept 28 2007

 "Easier"

I used to wish life was easier. I used to hope that it would get better from the empty darkness that held me captive. I used to pray that life would be more attainable - much more attainable - than it really is. I am alluded by the meaning of life. It won't touch my skin or cling to my fingers. And as the skin separates from muscle and bone, I continue to get older. I used to wish life was easier, especially when I looked int he mirror. Every single day, I still wish it does.

@ Amie Vermeer

Written: Sept 27, 2007

"Worthy"

I'm empty without you. I'm lost when you aren't here. But what's worse is this senseless wandering and worthlessness that I feel when you are near. I'm sure you aren't aware of it: how you make me feel with the simple vibration of your strong voice. I'm scared when I'm beside, but more confident. It's a feeling that this emptiness, maybe it's just a hope, that it might go away if I act strong when you're around. I look for my own satisfaction in your eyes. But all I see is your hooded gaze staring through me, burning up every thought in my soul, and I know my act is up. It's still empty, still lost and still trying to frantically claw for any amount of worth.

@ copyright Amie Vermeer