Apparently song writing is going to be the theme on here for a while longer. TWO DAYS...just two days until National Song Writing Month starts. Yes, I am excited. I'm hoping this year goes better than last. Last year, I came out with several good songs, but most of my songs were about cats and loading the dishwasher :D And I honestly wasn't true to the challenge because altogether, good songs and bad, I probably only wrote about twenty. This year I am going all in though. 31 days, 31 songs, 31 moments pouring my heart out on the page. There will definitely be sleepless nights of writing, tear-filled days of exposing my soul. My fingers will grow even more calloused then they already are, and yes, I will constantly have a shred of paper in my pocket to write things down when inspiration strikes.
Why do I do this, you ask? I wrote my first song probably when I was 7 years old. I don't really remember it, but I'm sure it was terrible. I've been writing music for as long as I can remember. I look back through all my past journals, only to discover countless songs that I've written over the years. Most are terrible, but all are me pouring my heart out on the page. In some of my darkest moments when I didn't know who to talk to or where to turn, I've turned to a pen and the page. The other day I came across some songs I wrote when I was ten, right after me and my family lost everything in Hurricane Katrina. That was definitely one of the darkest moments of my life, and looking back on what I wrote I see the desperation, but I also see the hope. And that's why I write music.
I write to expose who I am, what I've done, the pain and the sorrow, but also the hope I have in Christ. I have written some pretty downer songs in my day, and like in my last blog post, I've had some pretty angry moments in my life. But life is never going to be butterflies and rainbows, and life goes on after the pain. The music I've written over the years shows that. Looking back through my journals, I see the seasons where everything was great and I was happy, but I also see the moments where it didn't seem like I wanted to go on anymore. Yeah, sure, my experiences are my own, but those feelings I have felt are normal human emotions.
And that's why I write. Because I want people to know that it gets better, and I want them to know that after the pain life goes on. I want them to see that I'm a normal person like them, a person who struggles, and I want them to see that after all the brokenness and all the seeking for something to satisfy, I have been left empty and even more broken. I write to show to remember where I've come from and where I'm going. I write because after everything I've been through I still have hope.
There have been moments in my life when a song was the only reason why I still had hope. I didn't hope in God; there were moments when I hated God. But a song, a song was all I needed. And that song gave me hope, and not only did it give me hope, but it eventually pointed me back towards God. Music has power.
I want music to be my weapon. I want my music to give hope. Writing has given me hope; it has given me healing. Throughout everything that's happened these past two months, I've constantly been writing. It's really only word vomit, practically worthless, but they are my thoughts and emotions on a page. And one day I will look back on this moment and where I've been and I will realize that this is a moment I needed to live because these are the moments that have made me who I am.
So here's to writing! I am broken and tired, and I have so many thoughts that I just need to throw on a page. And I know I'm not the only one. I hope that whoever reads this realizes that they have a voice, that you have a unique story that you need to share, that you have human emotions that ought to be expressed, and that your song could help someone...someone like me. Don't undervalue your potential to create music that could just be what someone else needs to hear. Regardless of whether or not you've ever written a song, try to write at least one this month!
And just remember, Music has power; it has power like nothing else. For a while it was the only thing on this planet I cared about, the only thing worth living for. And I know that I'm not the only one who has felt that way.
Just remember, if I can do this, anyone can.
Monday, April 28, 2014
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Closed Doors
I wanted to share another song that I wrote. This is one I wrote a couple years ago during a really hard time in my life. It was hard for me to see what I was supposed to be doing, the direction I needed to be headed in, what God wanted me to do with my life. I was at the point in my life where I just wanted to throw in the towel. God had told me no once more and I was tired of it. No matter how hard I tried, nothing I did was ever good enough, nothing I did amounted to anything. You see, success has always been my idol, failure my greatest fear. And so when God closed a really big door for me, I felt my world crumble.
On top of all of this, God had been shutting major doors for my family too. This song is dedicated to them. It shows the heart break of not understanding why God does the things he does. my family (minus me) was supposed to move overseas to do missions; they were beyond ecstatic. In a crazy turn of events, and after a year of planning though, God closed the door. My family was devastated; my Dad had no idea what He was supposed to do anymore. They were lost, hopeless, and trying to seek direction from the Lord. I was too, but the Lord had fallen silent. Even when I screamed, I felt so far from Him.
When writing this song I had problems finishing it; I just felt as if it were unfinished. My friend Hannah is one of greatest inspirations and helpers in song writing. I asked for her advice. I told her that my song felt unfinished and unresolved. And so she asked me "Do you want a song that has resolution and a happy ending, or do you want a song that expresses how you feel?". And so with that question, I was able to finish my song.
This song has no resolution, no happy ending, no butterflies and rainbows. This is a song of me crying out to God, so angry that my hands bled from pounding them down on the piano keys. I don't know why God closes doors. I don't know why God chooses to do the things He does. But I know that since I wrote this song, my response to God's closed doors has changed. Yeah, sure I still get angry when God says no, and I still look at my empty hands, but I don't stay angry like I used to. I no longer get bitter. And I think that's the key. It's okay to be angry at God, and it's okay to cry out to him and to question why he does the things he does. My roommate is the wisest person I know, and she has taught me that it's okay to be angry; what's not okay is to stay angry. So without further ado, here's the song from a time when I was really angry at God...
They say when God closes a door
He opens a window.
If that's the case,
My house is getting drafty,
Kinda drafty.
My plans and motivation to succeed,
That is what defines me.
But the door's been slammed in my face again,
Yes again.
So I'll focus on all the closed doors,
Forget all the open windows,
Ignore the draft blowing by my face
I'm disappointed and confused,
frustrated, I don't want to lose,
Discontent with the plans you've made for me.
I don't want to understand,
So I'll continue
To look at my empty hands
And all the closed doors.
My future life was right in front of me.
What I wanted was within my grasp.
I shut of everything else out
To press on towards my desires.
I was determined.
I had it all together,
But once again you slammed the door
And I crumbled to the ground
So I'll focus on all the closed doors,
Forget all the open windows,
Ignore the draft blowing by my face
I'm disappointed and confused,
frustrated, I don't want to lose,
Discontent with the plans you've made for me.
I don't want to understand,
So I'll continue
To look at my empty hands
And all the closed doors.
I don't understand why you shut me down.
I don't understand why my plans can't work out.
I tried my very best to follow you every way,
But it's not okay.
I'm not okay.
So I'll focus on all the closed doors,
Forget all the open windows,
Ignore the draft blowing by my face
I'm disappointed and confused,
frustrated, I don't want to lose,
Discontent with the plans you've made for me.
I don't want to understand,
So I'll continue
To look at my empty hands
And all the closed doors.
I'll focus on all the closed doors.
The closed doors.
This song has fresh meaning to me again. God's been closing a lot of doors in my life recently, and once again I've been focussing on all the pain instead of all his goodness. I'm angry at God, only this time I won't stay angry at him. I know he's got a plan. I know everything will work out for the best. At least that's my head talking anyway; my heart is still utterly broken. But this is me admitting that I'm not okay. God closed a door on February 16 that I desperately tried to keep open. I pushed and prodded, but that door is supposed to be closed. So for now, I need to learn to stop focussing on the closed doors, I need remember all the open windows. And maybe God will open that door again, or maybe he won't. Either way, it's for the best. Either way, God will open another door. It just hurts though.
I'm not going to lie, I'm focussing on that closed door, and for now, that's okay. But at some point I'm going to have to give up and realize that the door is never going to open again. I guess the hardest part is getting your head and your heart to agree. Well, I guess I'll just take it one day at a time.
On top of all of this, God had been shutting major doors for my family too. This song is dedicated to them. It shows the heart break of not understanding why God does the things he does. my family (minus me) was supposed to move overseas to do missions; they were beyond ecstatic. In a crazy turn of events, and after a year of planning though, God closed the door. My family was devastated; my Dad had no idea what He was supposed to do anymore. They were lost, hopeless, and trying to seek direction from the Lord. I was too, but the Lord had fallen silent. Even when I screamed, I felt so far from Him.
When writing this song I had problems finishing it; I just felt as if it were unfinished. My friend Hannah is one of greatest inspirations and helpers in song writing. I asked for her advice. I told her that my song felt unfinished and unresolved. And so she asked me "Do you want a song that has resolution and a happy ending, or do you want a song that expresses how you feel?". And so with that question, I was able to finish my song.
This song has no resolution, no happy ending, no butterflies and rainbows. This is a song of me crying out to God, so angry that my hands bled from pounding them down on the piano keys. I don't know why God closes doors. I don't know why God chooses to do the things He does. But I know that since I wrote this song, my response to God's closed doors has changed. Yeah, sure I still get angry when God says no, and I still look at my empty hands, but I don't stay angry like I used to. I no longer get bitter. And I think that's the key. It's okay to be angry at God, and it's okay to cry out to him and to question why he does the things he does. My roommate is the wisest person I know, and she has taught me that it's okay to be angry; what's not okay is to stay angry. So without further ado, here's the song from a time when I was really angry at God...
They say when God closes a door
He opens a window.
If that's the case,
My house is getting drafty,
Kinda drafty.
My plans and motivation to succeed,
That is what defines me.
But the door's been slammed in my face again,
Yes again.
So I'll focus on all the closed doors,
Forget all the open windows,
Ignore the draft blowing by my face
I'm disappointed and confused,
frustrated, I don't want to lose,
Discontent with the plans you've made for me.
I don't want to understand,
So I'll continue
To look at my empty hands
And all the closed doors.
My future life was right in front of me.
What I wanted was within my grasp.
I shut of everything else out
To press on towards my desires.
I was determined.
I had it all together,
But once again you slammed the door
And I crumbled to the ground
So I'll focus on all the closed doors,
Forget all the open windows,
Ignore the draft blowing by my face
I'm disappointed and confused,
frustrated, I don't want to lose,
Discontent with the plans you've made for me.
I don't want to understand,
So I'll continue
To look at my empty hands
And all the closed doors.
I don't understand why you shut me down.
I don't understand why my plans can't work out.
I tried my very best to follow you every way,
But it's not okay.
I'm not okay.
So I'll focus on all the closed doors,
Forget all the open windows,
Ignore the draft blowing by my face
I'm disappointed and confused,
frustrated, I don't want to lose,
Discontent with the plans you've made for me.
I don't want to understand,
So I'll continue
To look at my empty hands
And all the closed doors.
I'll focus on all the closed doors.
The closed doors.
This song has fresh meaning to me again. God's been closing a lot of doors in my life recently, and once again I've been focussing on all the pain instead of all his goodness. I'm angry at God, only this time I won't stay angry at him. I know he's got a plan. I know everything will work out for the best. At least that's my head talking anyway; my heart is still utterly broken. But this is me admitting that I'm not okay. God closed a door on February 16 that I desperately tried to keep open. I pushed and prodded, but that door is supposed to be closed. So for now, I need to learn to stop focussing on the closed doors, I need remember all the open windows. And maybe God will open that door again, or maybe he won't. Either way, it's for the best. Either way, God will open another door. It just hurts though.
I'm not going to lie, I'm focussing on that closed door, and for now, that's okay. But at some point I'm going to have to give up and realize that the door is never going to open again. I guess the hardest part is getting your head and your heart to agree. Well, I guess I'll just take it one day at a time.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Quiet Desperation
So for those who are unawares, I write music. It's one of my "hobbies" I guess you could say, and it's my choice outlet to express myself and/or vent about the woes of life...WOAH. Recently, I wrote a song entitled "Quiet Desperation". The inspiration for it came to me whilst reading Thoreau for fun. (I know, who reads Thoreau for fun?!? :D) Thoreau is known for saying the phrase "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." When I came across this phrase I stopped. How many of us lead lives where every day we put on a smile and every night we cry until we're red in the face? How many of us live hoping that the pain would stop? How many of us quietly are hurting? I was and am one of those people. I thought I could take the world by myself. I thought I could handle my own problems and that I didn't need anyone, not even God.
I'm a control freak, I'm a loner. I didn't think I needed anyone. So what happened when I lost control? What happened when my problems started coming to the surface? I crumbled. I haven't been alright for a long time. I've been barely keeping my head above the water. My own issues that I've left unfaced have hurt the people I love most, and they are destroying me. But what have I always done? Keep quiet, Hannah. Don't let them see you're human too. Don't let people help you; they can't help you. What lies! My pride and fear piled on top of my buried issues and made for one heck of a mess. I ruined the greatest relationship I've ever had in my life because I wasn't willing to say that I'm not alright.
Living in denial is a destructive thing. admitting that you have a problem is the first step to changing. Retrospectively, I see that. Looking back on the last year, and maybe even in fact my entire walk with Christ thus far, I've been content with just being better than I was yesterday. Yesterday I lied twice. Today I only lied once. Okay, I'm good; I'm getting better. What kind of attitude is that? Why I am content with just being better? Why am I settling for the sub par? Whatever happened to trying to be holy as God is holy?!?
Holiness is something that we are to strive for as Christians. But is it something I've been striving for? Not at all. being holy means striving to be the best I can be. Sadly, I admit that I have never been concerned with being the best I can be. I've been living in denial of my problems. I've been content with my sub par walk with Christ. I was leading my life, quietly hurting so badly, but not anymore.
"Quiet Desperation" was inspired by my own desperation. Here are the lyrics:
Leading lives of Quiet Desperation,
Screaming at the top of our lungs,
But not a word leaks our lips.
We're suppressed by the masks we wear
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are broken.
We are Bent.
We're ashamed.
We are spent.
We are searching to be saved,
But we can't cry out
'Cause we're enslaved.
The mass of men are broken
But the Quiet keeps them trapped behind thick walls
And in the dark, behind those walls,
We cannot break free or let anyone in.
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are broken.
We are Bent.
We're ashamed.
We are spent.
We are searching to be saved,
But we can't cry out
'Cause we're enslaved.
In the Quiet, we felt safe,
Like no one could hurt us,
But then the Quiet became a monster.
We can't escape, we can't escape.
And now we just carry on like nothing's wrong,
Like life goes on, but
The Quiet is killing us.
We try to run, to overcome, but
The Quiet creeps in...
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are broken.
We are Bent.
We're ashamed.
We are spent.
We are searching to be saved,
But we can't cry out
'Cause we're enslaved.
Quiet.
Oh, the Quiet
Desperation.
Desperation.
Oh.
Quiet.
Oh, the Quiet.
Desperation.
Desperation.
I have been searching to be saved. I thought I could save myself. I failed. I tried to pour myself into people and things in order to save myself, only to ruin those things and kill those relationships. I enslaved myself in the quiet and I could not escape. But not anymore. I am going to turn to the only one who can save me: Christ. Like I have already written, this blog begins with me broken and lost. And this is me admitting to it.
This is my journey. This is me turning back towards Christ. And this is me, living everyday with the goal of being not only better, but the absolute best I can be. Never will I live in Quiet desperation because I have found the One who can and will save me.
I'm a control freak, I'm a loner. I didn't think I needed anyone. So what happened when I lost control? What happened when my problems started coming to the surface? I crumbled. I haven't been alright for a long time. I've been barely keeping my head above the water. My own issues that I've left unfaced have hurt the people I love most, and they are destroying me. But what have I always done? Keep quiet, Hannah. Don't let them see you're human too. Don't let people help you; they can't help you. What lies! My pride and fear piled on top of my buried issues and made for one heck of a mess. I ruined the greatest relationship I've ever had in my life because I wasn't willing to say that I'm not alright.
Living in denial is a destructive thing. admitting that you have a problem is the first step to changing. Retrospectively, I see that. Looking back on the last year, and maybe even in fact my entire walk with Christ thus far, I've been content with just being better than I was yesterday. Yesterday I lied twice. Today I only lied once. Okay, I'm good; I'm getting better. What kind of attitude is that? Why I am content with just being better? Why am I settling for the sub par? Whatever happened to trying to be holy as God is holy?!?
Holiness is something that we are to strive for as Christians. But is it something I've been striving for? Not at all. being holy means striving to be the best I can be. Sadly, I admit that I have never been concerned with being the best I can be. I've been living in denial of my problems. I've been content with my sub par walk with Christ. I was leading my life, quietly hurting so badly, but not anymore.
"Quiet Desperation" was inspired by my own desperation. Here are the lyrics:
Leading lives of Quiet Desperation,
Screaming at the top of our lungs,
But not a word leaks our lips.
We're suppressed by the masks we wear
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are broken.
We are Bent.
We're ashamed.
We are spent.
We are searching to be saved,
But we can't cry out
'Cause we're enslaved.
The mass of men are broken
But the Quiet keeps them trapped behind thick walls
And in the dark, behind those walls,
We cannot break free or let anyone in.
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are broken.
We are Bent.
We're ashamed.
We are spent.
We are searching to be saved,
But we can't cry out
'Cause we're enslaved.
In the Quiet, we felt safe,
Like no one could hurt us,
But then the Quiet became a monster.
We can't escape, we can't escape.
And now we just carry on like nothing's wrong,
Like life goes on, but
The Quiet is killing us.
We try to run, to overcome, but
The Quiet creeps in...
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are living lies.
We say we are fine.
But inside we are screaming.
And our hearts are bleeding.
We are broken.
We are Bent.
We're ashamed.
We are spent.
We are searching to be saved,
But we can't cry out
'Cause we're enslaved.
Quiet.
Oh, the Quiet
Desperation.
Desperation.
Oh.
Quiet.
Oh, the Quiet.
Desperation.
Desperation.
I have been searching to be saved. I thought I could save myself. I failed. I tried to pour myself into people and things in order to save myself, only to ruin those things and kill those relationships. I enslaved myself in the quiet and I could not escape. But not anymore. I am going to turn to the only one who can save me: Christ. Like I have already written, this blog begins with me broken and lost. And this is me admitting to it.
This is my journey. This is me turning back towards Christ. And this is me, living everyday with the goal of being not only better, but the absolute best I can be. Never will I live in Quiet desperation because I have found the One who can and will save me.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
What's in a Name?
This is the start of a new blog. Here lies before me a blank page, a fresh start, a new look on life. Life is a crazy beast of a thing. One second you think it's trajectory to be one way, and in mere seconds it can drastically change to something completely different. This is something I've come to realize as of late. I thought my life was going towards great and fantastic things, and then one phone call changed all of that. I don't really know what I'm doing anymore. Not really sure where the road I'm walking down is going. Sometimes I don't even feel like I am walking down a path. I feel halted, I feel like my heels are dug in the ground and no matter how much my head says "come on let's keep going" my heart retorts "NOPE!". Sometimes I wish I could just cut out my heart like Will Turner...except then I'd have to be the captain of the Flying Dutchman...eh :/
I'm in an American lit class this semester. Surprisingly, I'm actually starting to like American literature. Go figure! Our professor has been talking a lot about our final paper since we only have a little bit of time left in the semester. And this week he talked about the importance of drafting. His words are what inspired me to start writing again. Sometimes you just have to write. What you write could be the dumbest of words, they could mean absolutely nothing, but sometimes you just have to write. He said there are times in life when we don't know what we want to write and the best thing to do to figure it out is to write. Well, thank you, Prof. I take your advice, not merely in regards to writing but also in the full scope of life. Yes, sure, I've been writing a lot so as to find out what I want to write my paper on in his class. But writing helps us to know what we want. My thoughts are so much clearer down on paper, or rather, in Times New Roman :D
I don't know what I want anymore. I don't really even know who I am anymore. Sometimes I look in the mirror in wonderment at what I've become. Sometimes I look in the mirror with disgust. I'm not pleased. Why are my heels dug in the dirt?! Why am I not going anywhere right now. Why can't I move past this?! Why can't I move past you?! That's why I write. I'm not happy with who I've become. I want to be the best I can be. I want to be able to go where I need to go and do what I need to do. I want to do great things. I wanted to know what direction I should be headed in. Instead, I'm still sort of lost. Not entirely lost, mind you. I still have a basic idea of what I would like to do. But right now I'm lost in the dark and the only thing I have guiding me is a single candle. I can see a little in front of me, but not much. And I live in constant fear that my candle might burn out.
You're probably wondering about the URL and the title of this blog, "Let's begin at the end" and "Certain Breaths You Can't Retract". They are lyrics to one of my favorite songs, "Deep Cuts" by Cataldo. Here are the rest of the lyrics:
Let’s begin at the end of a bad year with bad things at my back. a tragic truth i’ve been slow in
learning is there are certain breaths you simply can’t retract. every deep cut, every back beat every
sound i send into the street still living on display, ricocheting off of walls and drop ceilings the songs i
spend on her never stop repeating but so it goes, these blunt punches sting but they’re just glancing
blows searching for the heart of a thing this snapshot’s all i can provide of a wet beach, a dry beach not
shifting of the tide every deep cut, every back beat every sound i send into the street still living on
display, ricocheting off of walls and drop ceilings. the songs i spend on her never stop revealing the songs i spend on her never stop repeating
I too am beginning again.....last year didn't end on such happy terms, nor did this year begin on them. Life hasn't been the greatest lately. And I have no one to blame but myself. I often ruin things because of my rashness. My best friend once said that my greatest flaw is that I don't realize that the stove is hot until I've put my hand on it. And he's right. I'm never going to learn to stop unless I go through the excruciating pain of having my hand completely and utterly burnt. My whole life I've been this way, but my whole life I've always been able to give excuses and get out of trouble. This is the first time in my life that I've actually had to look at my scorched hand and actually take responsibility for it. There's no putting a bandaid over it this time. Just like in the song, "the tragic truth I've been slow to learning is there are certain breaths you simply can't retract." I have used and abused with my words far too often. I have hurt people and cut people with my words. There are things I regret more than anything, things I've said that I wish I could take back but I can't. The words I've said echo in the minds of some of the people I love most but hurt the most. The times I took my own failures and insecurities out on others, the times I said "I hate you", these are the words that people will remember me for. It doesn't matter how many time you tell someone you love them, if you but once tell them you hate them, those are the words that will keep them up at night.
This blog is a turning point for me. It begins at the end of a chapter in my life, it begins with me broken and lost. And it begins with a promise: never will a vain word be written hear. Never will hatred or empty and pointless words be present here. Because there are certain words you can't retract. And I for one, have already said too much. I for one, have already sent too many into the air to ricochet off walls. Never will it happen here. I'm not content with being the same person I was a month ago. This is the beginning of who I am. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what I want. But I know that I'm going to be the best I can be. I know I'm going to move on. And I know that I'm going to do great things in spite of everything. So here we go. Let's begin at the end...
I'm in an American lit class this semester. Surprisingly, I'm actually starting to like American literature. Go figure! Our professor has been talking a lot about our final paper since we only have a little bit of time left in the semester. And this week he talked about the importance of drafting. His words are what inspired me to start writing again. Sometimes you just have to write. What you write could be the dumbest of words, they could mean absolutely nothing, but sometimes you just have to write. He said there are times in life when we don't know what we want to write and the best thing to do to figure it out is to write. Well, thank you, Prof. I take your advice, not merely in regards to writing but also in the full scope of life. Yes, sure, I've been writing a lot so as to find out what I want to write my paper on in his class. But writing helps us to know what we want. My thoughts are so much clearer down on paper, or rather, in Times New Roman :D
I don't know what I want anymore. I don't really even know who I am anymore. Sometimes I look in the mirror in wonderment at what I've become. Sometimes I look in the mirror with disgust. I'm not pleased. Why are my heels dug in the dirt?! Why am I not going anywhere right now. Why can't I move past this?! Why can't I move past you?! That's why I write. I'm not happy with who I've become. I want to be the best I can be. I want to be able to go where I need to go and do what I need to do. I want to do great things. I wanted to know what direction I should be headed in. Instead, I'm still sort of lost. Not entirely lost, mind you. I still have a basic idea of what I would like to do. But right now I'm lost in the dark and the only thing I have guiding me is a single candle. I can see a little in front of me, but not much. And I live in constant fear that my candle might burn out.
You're probably wondering about the URL and the title of this blog, "Let's begin at the end" and "Certain Breaths You Can't Retract". They are lyrics to one of my favorite songs, "Deep Cuts" by Cataldo. Here are the rest of the lyrics:
Let’s begin at the end of a bad year with bad things at my back. a tragic truth i’ve been slow in
learning is there are certain breaths you simply can’t retract. every deep cut, every back beat every
sound i send into the street still living on display, ricocheting off of walls and drop ceilings the songs i
spend on her never stop repeating but so it goes, these blunt punches sting but they’re just glancing
blows searching for the heart of a thing this snapshot’s all i can provide of a wet beach, a dry beach not
shifting of the tide every deep cut, every back beat every sound i send into the street still living on
display, ricocheting off of walls and drop ceilings. the songs i spend on her never stop revealing the songs i spend on her never stop repeating
I too am beginning again.....last year didn't end on such happy terms, nor did this year begin on them. Life hasn't been the greatest lately. And I have no one to blame but myself. I often ruin things because of my rashness. My best friend once said that my greatest flaw is that I don't realize that the stove is hot until I've put my hand on it. And he's right. I'm never going to learn to stop unless I go through the excruciating pain of having my hand completely and utterly burnt. My whole life I've been this way, but my whole life I've always been able to give excuses and get out of trouble. This is the first time in my life that I've actually had to look at my scorched hand and actually take responsibility for it. There's no putting a bandaid over it this time. Just like in the song, "the tragic truth I've been slow to learning is there are certain breaths you simply can't retract." I have used and abused with my words far too often. I have hurt people and cut people with my words. There are things I regret more than anything, things I've said that I wish I could take back but I can't. The words I've said echo in the minds of some of the people I love most but hurt the most. The times I took my own failures and insecurities out on others, the times I said "I hate you", these are the words that people will remember me for. It doesn't matter how many time you tell someone you love them, if you but once tell them you hate them, those are the words that will keep them up at night.
This blog is a turning point for me. It begins at the end of a chapter in my life, it begins with me broken and lost. And it begins with a promise: never will a vain word be written hear. Never will hatred or empty and pointless words be present here. Because there are certain words you can't retract. And I for one, have already said too much. I for one, have already sent too many into the air to ricochet off walls. Never will it happen here. I'm not content with being the same person I was a month ago. This is the beginning of who I am. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what I want. But I know that I'm going to be the best I can be. I know I'm going to move on. And I know that I'm going to do great things in spite of everything. So here we go. Let's begin at the end...
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