Tuesday, May 23, 2006

The City or the country, that is the question!

Copied from my site on Xanga.com

Sunday, May 21, 2006
There's nothing like singing in the morning to wake you up, especially when it's in front of an entire chruch!
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Saturday, May 20, 2006
OK, two things. First of all, what do you al think of "The Da Vinci Code"?
Second, here's a new short story from me:
"I never knew I could paint abstract before that moment. One could assume I knew how to paint. I had painted other things, but I had never tried abstract before. I was never that good at painting realistic pictures. But I did paint. My heart and sould screamed out through my paint brush. Who can describe the feelings an artist had when he first puts paint to canvas? Paul Cezanne knew all about that. He studied his subjects for hours before putting one stroke of paint on the canvas. Even once he had painted one stroke, he woudl stop again to continue studying before applying any more paint. He must of had a lot of dedication and patience. I've never been that dedicated. Painting is just a hobby for me. Besides, I'm not very patient. Neverthe less, I am a painter, and on that fateful day, I learned to blend colors, lines, and shapes to create a painting with much meaning. It was of the country side leading into the city. Like much abstract art, it had great mmeaning to me. Or did it? Now that I look back, I'm not sure what it meant to me. Which college was I meant to go to? I know I chose the one in the city, but should I have gone to the one in the country? It stops me in thought, remembering what it was like. All the memories of college years, everything I had made myself. I am a city girl, I was a city girl then, I just didn't know it. I always told myself I was a city girl. I said, "I am torn between the country and the city." I am two different people in two different locations. But who am I really, as a whole? I sweetly remember the painting now. Every detail, every color, shape are vivid in my mind. The city was dark and gloomy. Just the presence of it darkened the sky. A main road led to the city, but there was a side road, a dirt road. It led t o the country, where everything was light and beautiful, pleasant. The sky was blue. It beckoned you to risk the old, dirt road for a better ending. I recall finishing the painting. I looked at it intently. It seemed unfinished, but I was happy with it and left it as is. I sat down on my couch to think. Did the colors represent my mood and the way I really felt? After all, the painting was nothing like I had first intentioned it to be. I had thought the road to the city was the rough road. Was the painting innacurate? Was it just a painting? Or did it have meaning? Did it really come from my heart? I started to cry at that point. My tears ran down my cheek and onto the floor. I bent over and put my head in my arms, saying a little prayer. My tears hit the floor. That would be my next painting: a puddle of tears. Did I make the right choice? I'm still not sure. But God can use even the worst situations to His glory. Whatever His plan may have been for me, I'll never forget the day I painted that picture of the two roads, and which road I chose to take."
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Sunday, May 14, 2006
DreadEvery once in a while I get a feeling of dread. I used to have it when I was younger a lot. For some reason, I always thought a volcano was going to errupt and come and get me, or a tornado was going to come and tear down my house with me in it. Well, yesterday I had that feeling of dread, like death was on its way, like I wasn't going to go to heaven. I'm over it now, but it still seems all so real. Have you ever had one of those death dreams that seem real. I have, but that was a while back. I have dreams all the time. Most of them I don't remember, but several I do remember, and often I wish they were true.
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Saturday, May 06, 2006
What do you think of immigration in the US. Really, I have nothing against immigrants who come over here to get a good job and earn a living. However, when I hear about illegal immigrants coming over and taking advantage of us, I'm not so pro. They get everything for free. Benefits galore. For example, they can go into a hospital emergency room and get free medicine for a cold. Their use of the hospital's resources drives prices up for the rest of us who really need the service. I really do think we should be more strict with our immigration laws, or at least bulk up our borders to start preventing illegal immigrants from coming in.
Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo. I went out last night and wherever I went there were cruisers. Half the cruisers had giant Mexican flags on their cars (or I should say hooked up vehicles). Now, I have no problem with Mexican people being proud of their heritage. It is who they are. God made everyone unique and special. He loves everyone equally. And I mean everyone! So go on, be proud of who you are. But if you are going to come to America, be an American. Be proud of being American. Fly American flags. You would think with all this terrorism and war and stuff that people would be moved to be proud of America. But all the people I saw last night could do is fly the Mexican flag. STop protesting what is going on with immigration laws. Do you even have any idea what Mexico's immigration laws are?
I have a list and video on Immigration laws. If you would like to see it, email me..

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Thursday, May 04, 2006
My main writing site:
My Christian Opinions Discussion Forum:
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More Randomness - Continued from Yesterday
"I was driving downtown the other day when I saw something, or rather someone, that wuite surprised me. At first, I thought the woman was just an old, unhealthy smoker, talking to a homeless man sitting on a bus stop bench. Soon, however, I figured her to be much more. She didn't quite look like a woman. When I first saw her I thought she was a man. Her hair was short blonde, colored with a bit of gray and black in it. It was tattered and messes as though she had come out of a tornado. The hair was a tornado itself. Her clothes were basic denim pants, a button up shirt, and a vest. The clothes were baggy and dirty. For a moment I thought I saw a ame tag on her. Perhaps she did come from a care home. After what happened next, it seemed highly possible. It became evident that she was a woman, or at least was trying to be one. She thrust about from place to place. Here a thrust, there a thrust. Every once in a while she would pose, and thrust again. It was like she was trying to be picked up by some sick, perverted person, man or woman. Then, like a snake, she stuck her tongue out. But she did it randomly in the open. There was nothing sneaky about her. She was right out in the open. I thought it obscene, but a touch of compassion reached my worn out heart. I couldn't stop, though. The light had turned green and I had to continue driving with the rest of the traffic. I left the crazed woman behind, but she remained on my mind for days to come."
"There is a man who is a fool, and then there is a fool who advertises it." (My dad came up with that one.)
"The small, white petals were blown away from their place. They kept their journey for only a few moments before covering the ground. A select few flew farther away to wherever the wind might take them. The rest covered the ground like a layer of snow. The winde tossed them all about, like children having a contest to see who can blow their boat the farthest in the shortest amount of time."
"The clouds spread over the skies, like snow finding its place in the mountains. They covered the sky; shaded in all the colors of the world."
"Have you ever heard a child pray? How sweet and innocent their prayer is. If only we could all pray like that."
"You can always tell a child by their eternal fascination with fish."
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Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Random Sayings and Short Comments from Life as well as some story ideas
"Cancer isn't healed because there is too much money in the business of medicine."
"Dad won't listen to kids about cancer - feeding on sugar" (Goes with my previous entry)
"Mom gave up singing career for daughter the moment I was born. I go off and try to find a rich man to marry so I can get her in a show I produce. I end up falling in love with a poor man, but choose to marry another man who is rich. I work hard to find her a singing job. It all works out, but I'm not happy. My husband gets in an accident. He ends up taking his own life because he knows I don't love him. All this time, my mom has yet to become a famous singer. She gets cancer and starts to die. Fate brings me back to the man I originally fell in love with. He has now made his fortune; one larger than my previous husband's. We learn to forgive one another and get married. I am finally able to get my mom a gig with the metropolitan opera. She sings and become famous in a night. Now that she has had her chance, and knows that her daughter loves her, she is at peace and dies."
"It has been my fortune to be aquainted with morons of all types. Wherever I go, they seem to follow me. No that they're complete morons. It's more like they're very 'different.' Let's just call them 'queer' or 'strange.' No, not that type of queer. They aren't strange in a bad way. After all, we're all unique and different in our own ways. These people are just a little more 'emotional' and 'immature.' They are very dependant on others. I make friends with those who need friends because I am one myself who has few friends and am generally not cared for or like by others."

More to come tomorrow...
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Monday, May 01, 2006
When Daddy Smiled (Based on a True Story)
Everything seemed to be going so well. My brother got saved at church that Easter Sunday. Daddy was able to go too. Daddy was so excited about seeing my brother get baptised, but he was getting weaker. He was too weak to go to church. We doubted that he would last long enough to even be alive on the scheduled date. So we brought out a horse trough, filled it with water, and brought dad outside to see brother get baptised. Daddy's eyes were still closed. It would all be pointless if dad wasn't even concious of what was happening. When it finally took place, daddy stood up and opened his eyes. He didn't seem to care if people wanted him to stay sitting and resting. He had that attitude where he was determined that no one would get in his way. For the first time in a long while, tears of joy streaked down my cheeks. Our family was happy. Light seemed to shine from heaven. Daddy was looking better after that. His tumors didn't show so much. Our prayers seemed to be answered for a short while. It didn't last long though. Daddy died four days later. I sent my son home. Six is not an age to be troubled with such things. My sister brought her son to the funeral. I remember just watching him as he stood and stared at the vase that contained daddy's urns. Sis' sent him home after that. He was only five years old. Sis' wanted to put coffee beans in with daddy's urns. Daddy loved to drink coffee. When it got to where he couldn't drink it, we got him some coffee beans just so he could smell them. The funeral was beautiful. Daddy would have liked it. Still, no matter how sad things may have been, God had answered our prayers, just not in the way we had expected. I'll never forget that day when daddy opened his eyes, stood up, and smiled. Even though the happiness only lasted a short time, it was a happy time, and I'll never forget it.
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Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Decisions, Decisions, Decisions
Decisions, decisions, decisions. Have you ever had that feeling where you're not quite sure where to go next? Everything seems like a blur. Nothing makes sense. You feel empty inside. Everything spins around you. That's how I feel.
I can be quite an emotional person sometimes. There have been times when I have randomly cried for no reason at all. Either that or something arouses bitter feelings inside of me and I can't help but question my faith. I don't know why feel the way I do. Actually, most of the time I am just plain quiet and not emotional at all. But there comes a time when everything catches up with me and I can't help but cry.
For example, last Sunday I visited Brooklyn Tabernacle Church. They're Pentecostal. It was an interesting experience. I enjoyed it. However, the worship was very emotional. I haven't found my own way to worship God yet, so I felt left out, and pressured to pretend to worship. A lot of times worship seems so fake to me. The service went on. My heart continued to become bitter. As awesome as the sermon was, I still couldn't help but want to cry. I don't know why. I think it's the fact that I just can't reach that level of worship. I don't feel like God is there. I'm not sure of my salvation. I should be. I know what I believe. But everything seems so messed up.
And now it is time for me to decide on a college. I don't know how I will decide. I'm at a point in my life where I really need God's comfort, but I just can't seem to get it. I've prayed so many times, but nothing has happened. I don't know what to think.
For now, I continue on. I'm not sure what to say. Decisions, Decisions, Decisions. Here I go again. I'm not quite sure where to go next. Everything seems like a blur. Nothing makes sense. I feel empty inside. Everything is spinning around in my head. Decisions, decisions, decisions.
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About MeWell, I'm a writer... sort of. I'm a normal person with normal thoughts and concerns and feelings. I'm not so sure if I want to be a writer. That's my dilemma. I'm a Christian girl. That's another dilemma. Not really. I just have trouble with a lot of things. I haven't found my nick of the woods yet. I know I believe that God exists and that Christ is my savior, but there is a lot more going on in my life than I let on and I feel empty inside. Anyway, that's me in a nutshell. This xanga is more of a way to let myself out.
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Introduction to My Site
Welcome! First of all, I wish to explain this site. I have created many sites that have fallen through, so I decide to make one for just my writings. My name is Harmony. I am the webmaster and this site is for all of my writings that come from "the depths of my heart." I am inspired by many things, the smallest and the greatest, which is why I write. I hope you enjoy my site. It has been made with great care and is meant to be there for your information as well as for me to post my deepest and most secret feelings. Lucky you. Thank you for taking time to visit my site. Please be sure and visit my guestbook. I am open to publishers as long as I am paid not them. As you can already see, I like to ramble on. My dream is to be published. So this site is for me to share my dreams and for you to share yours. Thanks again, and be sure to come back again. If you would like to post your works on my other site, please go here. All works present on this site are copyrighted to Harmony, the webmistress.
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