He stares politely back at you, you stare politely right on through...

My house is full of a lot of jars and canning stuff and if you have a good sniffer you can smell the vinegar in the air from mom pickling anything and everything in sight.
It's getting really old.

I like attention. But I don't. I like the thought that people are giving me attention because they love me. It makes me feel like I've been on TV or something like that. But I don't like the attention part of it. Where people like to talk to me a lot. Because quite honestly, I'm a terrible conversationalist. There are very few people I can just spill what's on my mind too. And if I do. Then I think the person I'm talking to is a mannequin or some. There are a couple of people I don't imagine as mannequins. I can have perfectly beautiful conversation with myself when I'm in the shower. I can bring up references and bible verses and things like that when I ramble to myself about what's been on my own mind. It's pretty funny.

I go for walks sometimes down to a little gas station about two miles down the road. It's nothing special and I don't know why I do it because for about three quarters of the walk I have to worry about either dogs, people shooting me for trespassing, or crazy drivers in logging trucks. And I talk to myself the entire way as if someone was walking next to me. It's weird. I just can't talk like that with actual human beings. Just imaginary ones.

Anyways. I love people a lot. I even ventured far enough as to tell my dad that I wouldn't mind a career that would deal with lots of people.
I just don't know how to talk to them.

I find it hard to talk to God too. I think that's kinda sad. I can have hour long conversations with myself about my own problems and I can't even mention stuff like that to God. It's kinda really sad. I think people have had the idea that I talk to God a lot. But in all honesty I don't. I have talked to Him a little bit more lately. I think. Anyways.

I think the reason I can't spill stuff to God is because He's real. I talk to an imaginary person for hours because they're not real. And since I'm a terrible conversationalist I can't talk to God that easy because He is very real. I'm not saying this to make up an excuse for myself. I'm just saying what is on my mind.

I think I'm going to make it a goal this school year to learn to talk to people like they're real. Not mannequins with really realistic skin. And I think I'll try to talk to God like He's real. Not like He can't hear me.
It's my new years resolution.
Because people usually make this in the middle of the year.
It's chill.
Like ice.

How do we get so far, from the way we used to be?

I'm kinda drained because. I don't know... I'm lazy? Yeah. Cool. I want celery.

I get tired of emotions. Mainly because they create themselves in my soul then decide to try and kill each other. It's weird. That might drain me. I don't know.

I think Jesus put's emotions in us so that we know when something feels right. You know? You know that giving a glass of water to a thirsty person is right because you can just feel it. You know that taking that glass of lovely water away from said thirsty person is wrong because you can just feel it. I think when someone murders someone else they know it's wrong. They feel it deep down inside that's it's wrong you know? Maybe they don't. I'm not inside the soul of a murderer. But you never know.

I feel like me and my generation rape our emotions for all their worth then throw them out the window. It's painful. I don't like it. Why do I do that? Why is that my first and only instinct? No one knows.

I don't think Jesus created our hearts to be that way. I really don't. I think he created them to love a whole lot. And to stay that way and never change. And to love unconditionally and beat down any emotions of hate, pride, selfishness, and anger. Yeah. I think that's right.

Hello, I swear I won't be to long...

After The Storm ~ Mumford and Sons

And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.

Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won't rot, I won't rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot.

And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

And now I cling to what I knew
I saw exactly what was true
But oh no more.
That's why I hold,
That's why I hold with all I have.
That's why I hold.

I will die alone and be left there.
Well I guess I'll just go home,
Oh God knows where.
Because death is just so full and mine so small.
Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair...