people are just people

i was never invited to think, to truly think, until college. when asked if i could sum up my experience with words, i simply
said (after a deep sigh) that i found myself in college. my true self
was unveiled. and as i think about that journey more, and how it
manages to continue, i smile because people were so patient with me.
and they saw beauty long before i knew i had worth. my low score on my
SAT defined me. i thought i was doomed for mediocrity. but remembering
this, and remembering pivotal conversations deepen my understanding of grace and the beauty of process. there
was a very real time when "philosophy" scared me. i didnt know i even
knew what the word meant. now i am repremanded (in fun) that i think
too far on a plane that isn't frequented. its funny. its funny to
think.

i have been writing a lot more lately. trying to remember my childhood
(and my mother, who has already been gone for 4 years now!) My sister
and i are scrounging to remember anything we can. we are forgetting
the person that was the most important to us in all the world. but
with writing, i am flying above clouds, and it has become some sort of
high finding the portals to my life that i have successfully blotted
out for far too long. for with the good comes much bad... but the
"bad" is evolving. the "bad" has ceased to frighten me. i have found a
new strength somewhere along the road and its a part of me. my father
used to be a very scary man. during his "highs" he'd beat my mother
and attack my sister and i with hard words that cut like thousands of
little knives. i was scared to think my own thoughts. scared to make
decisions. my only refuge was in God. (which, of course, is
wonderful... unless it makes you MORE socially awkward). I got lost in
the flurry, and figured it was who i was meant to be. in the past few
years, life has flipped inside out. its encouraging beyond words... my
dad became a christian in response to my mom's death, and he is close.
even with the great expanse of the ocean. this is something that is
STILL very new to me. and i say, wow. thinking and becoming and seeing
and dreaming; these are all so powerful.

sometimes i feel as though i my old life is made up. that is was some sort of cry for help. for i have changed far too much for this to be real. i have left a trail up this mountain of flaking skin... blood has crusted at the wayside... but i am strong. i dont know what this means, if anything, but i do know that my heart is more sensitve to touch... my thoughts weave through a brightly colored tapestry and beg for more. perhaps they are addicted to thought. but im done feeling bad. im tired of timidly watching life pass, when, after all, people are just people... they shouldn't make you nervous... right?