Friday, April 29, 2011

I think that I think about stuff too often. I think about too much, too much of the time. I think of things while I should be thinking of others and think when I shouldn't be thinking at all. I over think too many areas of my life and think too little of others.
I think of Jesus, the God in the flesh, the Lord, the Alpha and Omega, and remind myself that he too is thinking of me, contending for me, praying for me as Aly reminded me. God does not wish failure for me, does not hold me back from success without good cause, does not think too little of me, but is rather wanting the world for me. For me, he thinks highly. For me he thinks fondly. For me he thinks, and his thoughts alone are enough to get me through a long sleepless night, a long slumbersome day, or one long good morning!
Good morning!
-Toby K.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Post-Noc Shift.

My eyes feel heavy as if cinder blocks sit along my eye brows, and my skin feels thick as if laid with bags of moss, but the mornings air reminds my lungs how much they love the taste of honeysuckle and cherry-blossom. Long leafy tree-branches reach out over the roads, shadowing the sun that has now begun to rise. My feet clap against the pavement, clic clic clic, my car keys clang between my fingers, and my hair, still damp and scented of tea-tree oil, hangs over my shoulders brushing my neck as I walk. It is still too early to here the hum of bustling cars or the laughter from kids marching in groups of threes or fours along yellow signed school zones; it is still too early to go to the store for milk or pick and poke and prod fresh produce at the morning market; too early to mow the lawn or vacuum the floors, too early to pick up a coffee or get my hair dyed. But the clock lands on the six and as I walk across the cold pavent, clic clic clic, I listen out as the bird chirps' fill the fog and know for someone this day has only begun.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Life As I Know It.

     My stuff is being sorted into boxes, those boxes are being sorted into leave or keep piles, those boxes that say keep are my life as I know it. This room, it's walls are becoming bare and white again. My cat walks in wide eyed as he stares at the different picture this room now paints. He paws at the corners of the cardboard and sniffs the floor where things once sat.
     My parents are losing a daughter, sooner than expected. This was never their plan, this was never mine, but here it is. It is here in these boxes, it is here in the little brown house with the little white swing, it is here in the rain outside my window, in the breaking of my heart. I often wonder if I made the wrong choice, if I should of listened to my sister, if I should of gone to college, if I should of just stayed here in my comfort...but it's done, the decisions made, the key has been passed into my palm and in a few short days this will be the end of life as I know it, and my new life will begin.
  Tonight was the first time I realized that, and tonight was the first time I cried about it.
-Toby K.