Real Love

I feel like blogging. About what? I have no idea. I'm such a hopeless romantic sometimes that even stupid movies stir up huge emotions about love in me. The thing that is stuck in my head right now is a line from a Jeff Buckley song called "Hallelujah": "I saw your flag on the marble arch, but love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken 'hallelujah.'"
Real love doesn't walk around in parades showing itself off; rather, it proclaims as loud as it can of the beloved. It would praise the beloved in front of all people, even if that risks one's own life. Real love would die for the beloved. It is humble and not boastful in itself.
As Dustin Kensrue puts it:

"There’s many who’ll tell you they’ll give you their love,
But when they say “give” they mean “take.”
They’ll hang ‘round just like vultures till push comes to shove.
They’ll take flight when the earth starts to shake.

Someone may say that they’ll always be true,
Then slip out the door ‘fore the dawn.
But I won’t leave you hanging on.
Another may stay till they find someone new,
Then before you know they’ll be gone.
But I won’t leave you hanging on;
No, I won’t be that someone.

And come what may, I won’t abandon you or leave you behind
Because love is a loyalty sworn, not a burning for a moment.
And come what may, I will be standing right here by your side;
I won’t run away, though the storm’s getting worse and there’s no end in sight.

Some talk of destiny, others of fate,
But soon they’ll be saying goodbye.
But I won’t leave you high and dry.
Because a ring don’t mean nothing
If you can’t haul the weight,
And some of them won’t even try,
But I won’t leave you high and dry;
I won’t leave you wondering why.

And storms will surely come,
But true love is a choice you must make
And you’re the one that I have set my heart to choose.
As long as I live, I swear I’ll see this through."

When All My Life

When all my life's filled with despair
My heart and mind act without care
My lips speak fire that burns down trees
And drink the greatest, deepest seas

When all my life's filled with despair
My hands seek things they shouldn't dare
My eyes look for the brightest sun
And tell me that it's just for fun

When all my life's filled with regret
I medicate simply to forget
My mind goes blank without a thought
Tries to deny all I've been taught

When all my life's filled with regret
I must bow down, truly repent
Receive anew your filling grace
And look upon your lovely face

Hopefully Hopeless

I heard once of this thing called love
A noun that was used sparingly

It's worth seemed high
So ventured, I,
To find out why
It carried not far

I came to find this thing called love
Was only used for one reason:

A hopeless thought
Most touched it not
When held, they fought
For it was not easy

I started thinking about this "love"
This word most dared not come across

It seemed so cool
Most said "You fool,
You're such a tool"
But I couldn't stop thinking

Deciding that this thing called love
Was something I'd give everything for

A desperate life
I'd live to find
A love that's mine
All in God's time

The Words

"It is painful to me now to reflect, the ease with which I got into the way of using this non-language; these drooling non-sentences conveying non-thoughts, propounding non-fears and offering non-hopes. Words are as beautiful as love, and as easily betrayed. I am more penitent for my false words-for the most part, mercifully lost for ever in the Media's great slag-heaps-than for false deeds." - Malcolm Muggeridge, the "Wizard of Words"

Often times we speak in a language that nobody comprehends (because we are so intellectual and smart, right???); we speak in sentences that nobody understands; we blurt out thoughts that mean absolutely nothing to everybody; we alert people of things they should fear, but really nobody cares about them but for a minute or two; we give people hope that is really not hope at all.

What if we ONLY said the things we really meant? What if we only speak when we feel a deep compulsion to speak?

Our words hold weight, whether we intend them to or not. Why not use this? Why not be intentional with our words?

"Wake, feel your worth, O my soul.
Speak the word, the word that can save us all.
Awed by grace, I fall on my face,
And scream the word that can save us all."
-Dustin Kensrue

Let's speak the words that can save us all, not the words that will destroy the soul.

Inordinate

Keeping track of the ways I screw up
I'm noticing there ain't nothing new I've done
The same issues won't seem to shake off
How the hell am I supposed to keep pressing on

You think I'd learn there are puddles in the streets
Twenty years of the same path every day
Can't seem to find peace in my own strength
Teach me love, teach me love, teach me love and your ways

Oh! Round and round we go
We're like a ferris wheel
That has lost control
We move in these circles
Like the dog returns to vomit
We're so out of control

Progress is not a relative term
We can't convince people to follow our lead
Then change the vision we held so high
I need to stand on the truth and not the lie

We try all the best foods
Not realizing the trash it is
We fill our minds with filth
Let's learn from our mistakes
And find amazing grace
Cuz it exists

Oh! Round and round we go
We're like a ferris wheel
That has lost control
We move in these circles
Like the dog returns to vomit
We're so out of control

Thanks Abby!!!

So one of my good friends (Abigail Atchison) wrote a poem that was inspired by me (http://dear-abbi.blogspot.com/)!!! How I am inspiring still is not certain to me haha. Maybe I am not inspiring, but my love for cities and for London is??? I duno. But I thought I'd share it with anybody who cares :) enjoy!!!

The streets of London call him
The streets of London

The streets of London beckon him
The streets of London

He cannot find his way back
He seems to've lost his way back
If he could only get his heart back
Back to the streets of London

The streets of London stole him
The streets of London

The streets of London keep him
The streets of London

His body's just a shell here
His soul has long been elsewhere
His feet are trapped on endless paths
About the streets of London

The streets of London haunt him
The streets of London

The streets of London gnaw at him
The streets of London

Ring around the motorway
A pocket full of heart ache
Ashes Ashes
Pollute the streets of London

Ring around the motorway
A pocket full of heart ache
Ashes Ashes
He cannot see his London