I'm sorry...

Gosh, I'm a really bad blogger. And no, I have not disappeared from the face of the earth.

Blogger bores me.

Well, no it doesn't, but it's really hard to keep up with posting... yeah, that's pretty obvious.

BUT... I've recently discovered TUMBLR! yay.

Tumblr is a blogging service that works a lot like twitter. And I'm one of those twitter adicts, so... Check out my tumblr. I have like 4 pages of stuff already.

A few quick updates before I leave you  for another few weeks, or months.

I'm currently in a pretty tough place. I'm starting to rethink a lot of what I've held true to my whole life. I need to find my place - where I belong - and I need to do it soon. I need to know how I am to live my life for the next four years, probably longer. But the next four years in particular are exceedingly important: they're the college years. I have to be on top of my game, which is not easy for me right now. I don't know what to expect, and to be honest, I'm pretty scared.

As of now, I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm totally rethinking my religion, which is pretty much against my religion... but whatever. Gosh, I hate religion. I feel so constricted now, caged and trapped when I'm supposed to be free in Christ, according to all Christian philosophy. I have no idea why I feel this way. I'm sick of all the doctrines and "be in the world, not of it" extremist crap. Yes, I call it crap. It's crap because it gets you nowhere. I know a lot of Christians who aren't so extreme, and I know Christians who go overboard with everything - I actually live with some of them. The extremism gets to the point where I can't hang out with certain people because they're "ungodly". I can't go to a movie because it's a tad too sexual. I can't read a book because it contains "objectional content" (and it's only objectionable to those old-fashioned people). And that's not even the half of it. It goes deeper, into my family life, and its affecting everyone around me. Christian doctrine and theology and all that stuff we were taught in church way back when just doesn't work in my family; it's actually tearing it apart little by little. But I'm not gonna go there. That's too personal.

I'm so ready to break out of my shell. Now I'm not going to rebel, just let loose for a while. Do things my way, and figure out what I believe and what to trust. I am in no way turning my back on God. I can't. Not with all I've been through, because He's the only one who's ever really there. But I don't feel him anymore. I know it's not Him, that He didn't disappear or abandon me. I guess I sort of abandoned Him, and that makes me feel really really awful. But I can't seem to focus solely on Him anymore. I've tried, and it hurts a whole lot. But I know I can't shun everything else because I feel like this. I need to embrace it. Embrace what's inside me, that fire burning deep down. People have tried to smother it, but it keeps burning; my will is too strong. My mom is pretty much the only person who hasn't tried to mold me into something I'm not. I trust her now, more than ever. I love her so much it hurts. She's my only safety right now. I don't feel safe with anyone else but her. People are dangerous: I don't know who to trust anymore, who will hurt me or who will ssave me. But I know I can trust my mom until the day I die.

I need to get a little spiritual. I need to find ritual, beauty, magic. Yes, I do believe in magic. It's there, somewhere in the world. I just have to find it. I will find it, and I'll show everybody that I can't be trampled on or manipulated into believing something. I'll show them that there's more to life than just life, that there's something more out there. I'm surrounded by lifeless people - puppets, practically - and it's killing me inside. But I refused to be killed; I'm loyal to myself when there's no one else worth being loyal to. I won't die with them.

Alright, enough drama. Thank god I'm getting my own room within the next week or so. My siblings are emerging into the "terrible teen" stage, and one of them has been in it for the past few years: he's made it clear to me that I "disgust" him. Right now, it sucks being the oldest.

College, come quickly. Please.

In other news...

Oh, yeah, Happy Holidays!

I was so cranky that I almost forgot...

I did have a wonderful Christmas. It was one of those times I actually enjoyed being with my entire family. Everyone put themselves aside and thought about the person next to them. We were all a family. I'm suffering from tristesse now that it's over. There's still New Year's, but it's not nearly as wonderful as Christmas. I got really nice ice skates, and I'm planning to go to the city for some ice skating with the greatest aunt-who-is-more-of-a-cousin in the world.

I LOVE my new Hayley Westenra album Winter Magic. This girl has the voice of a thousand angels, as described by one of those big newspapers/magazines. I whole-heartedly agree. See - and hear - the beauty and magic that is Hayley Westenra for yourself. This song is especially gorgeous: The Little Road To Bethlehem.

I also saw Hamlet on Broadway!!! And Jude Law was in it. He was AMAZING. Just as amazing as Kenneth Branagh - and Kenneth Branagh... he's superior to all mankind. So I got a few nice souveniers: a beautiful stage-edited copy of the play and a HUGE poster of the production featuring Mr. Law himself. He's so gorgeous... and he has perfect feet. Seriously, he had to go barefoot on stage, and I just found his feet so very attractive. And when he was doing his whole moody prince soliloquy, I just wanted to run up onto the stage and hug him. I love him so.

So I congratulated three of the actors: Geraldine James who played Queen Gertrude, Matt Ryan who was Horatio, and one of the extras who had broken her arm and wore a cast on stage. Then came the tristesse - the hopeless feeling you get after something marvelously wonderful and amazing, when you feel lost and small and unimportant. But I was over-the-moon about the whole event; it's one of those things I would relive if I could.

Concerning TWLOHA: my involvement in it is going rather well. I met a lot of really great people from the November 13 photo shoot, including the founder Jamie Tworkowski who is super-wonderful. I am now part of a group on facebook that branched out from the photo shoot, called To Write Love On The Streets. We were planning to get together in Union Square for some chalking and talking and hot chocolate, but that had to be postponed. Hopefully I'll be doing things with them soon.

The Rolling Stone article turned out to be not-so-great. The title: Surfer to Savior. While shedding some light on the TWLOHA movement, it did some damage as well. The article pretty much glorifies Jamie, as does the chosen photo (there were much better ones), and it really tramples the teen depression issue, calling it "teen angst". It paints a picture of fangirls getting Jamie's autograph and makes us seem pretty pathetic. So no, overall I wasn't happy with it. But we did have an amazing time. So many people came out: from Virginia, DC, even Toronto! There was this really great cinammony hot chocolate, and we all hung out and chatted and chalked up Washington square with love!! Heck, yeah. And there's a video, too! And another one, by Dustin Miller! He's so cool.

And that's pretty much it. You'll hear from me in another... well, you know the drill.

Autumn Sonnet

I wrote this for lit homework, and it was applauded in class. It was nice.

There are so many wonders to behold
When Autumn comes, and leaves dance all around;
When gold-and-crimson sunsets light the world
And flame the sky with passion most profound.
Thus why do starry eyes mourn Summer’s end,
Like lovers fearing merely brief farewell?
When nights of bliss and beauty do descend,
Why won’t pure love persist until Spring’s spell?
From Autumn’s cool, crisp winds to Winter’s chill
(For snow in sparkling hills of white is pure)
There should be thoughts of peace and freedom still,
And lovers’ hearts be beating strong and sure.
The Autumn whispers, “Love, and stay awhile,”
And I shall heed her words with eager smile.

Tales of extreme misery and lots of happy.

I just spent an hour and a half crying uncontrollably and talking to myself. I'm depressed, I'm distressed, I'm weak and tired and sick of putting up with the world. The past few days I've been drowning in emotions and fatigue and frustration. My misanthropic state is growing very rapidly; I've been itching to fricking curse certain people out give them a piece of my mind. I'm a walking bombshell.

The only point of my day in which I had some peace and sanity was, of course, literature class. It's amazing how one hour can keep you from coming home crying and cursing out the world and willing death and destruction upon all mankind. My sonnet, which was written in ten minutes the night before, was applauded (and happened to be the only sonnet written; everything else was a quatrain), and I got to act out bits of Henry V. Mister Shakespeare, you are my saviour. Thank you for keeping me sane. And, by the way, you have also rescued the world from burning in hellfire, as I was prepared to invoke the anger of the gods upon it.

Well there is a beacon of light in all of this, and it's filled with all sorts of happy. I am going to be in the Rolling Stone!! OMIGEE!


You're jealous, I know. It's okay. Really.


Two weeks ago I participated in a photo shoot for TWLOHA in Washington Square. It was possibly the best experience of my life. People came out from Toronto and Virginia and Delaware and DC just for this one day. Mostly kids just out of high school, all coming together for a few hours. It was absolutely amazing: there was so much energy and life and unity. We left the busy-ness of our lives and all our worries behind. It was a whole little community right in Washington Square. And people were staring as they passed, a few were interested, and one guy started cursing for who knows what reason. He must have had a bad day. Anyway, we chalked up the square with messages of love and hope, and we sang "All You Need Is Love" with the lead singer of The Early Hours. I met the founder Jamie Tworkowski, who is so wonderful and amazing. He actually invited us to be apart of this, that's how amazing he is. And I held his hand as he was tummy surfing the crowd in one of the shots!! Highlight of the highlight of my day right there.


So the issue comes out today, and I'm SO excited. And I'm meeting up with a little group from the shoot in a few weeks, and we're going to chalk up Union Square with more love and hope, and we'll share stories and build friendships and love each other. And this is on our own; these people are amazing, and their voices deserve to be heard and their stories need to be shared.


If you have made it this far, I thank you for putting up with me and my rambles. Night.

NaNoWriMo and other Novemberish happenings.

It's been long enough. Right now I'm on a mental guilt trip for being so inconsistent with posting. I mean, it's a blog. It's like a diary. How hard can it be to keep up with? (That was rhetorical, and I already know the answer.) And I left my poor sub-blog withering in the cold, all alone... Gosh, I'm such a terrible person.

So, I've got good news, and I've got bad news. The bad news is the same as always. I'm pretty much a wreck, both emotionally and physically. The latter is the hardest to deal with and the most dominant, but the former has been getting worse as of late. This is around the same time I was first crippled by depression last year, according to my mom; I only really noticed it between late December and early January. I'm learning to deal with this, to take it all in stride. Things don't bother me to the extent that they used to, but I still get overwhelmed. I have whatever's going on in my own mind and body, accompanied by the added pressures of certain people around me and the everday stress of family, school, etc. Actually, because certain people rely on me, and certain people bother me, I have been recently overcome by misanthropy. How this is possible, I do not know. But if it keeps these people away from me then so be it.

The good news: I'm writing a novel! Woo!
50,000 words in 30 days!... Say what?!

Yes. November is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). And I'm crazy for doing it, but I have taken the challenge. One whole month of creative genius and insanity. To complete it at a good pace, you have to average close to 1,667 words per day. Sounds easy when broken down that way, but imagine my surprise when I found out it's quite difficult to keep up with.

A friend of mine put me up to it, actually. We are motivating each other, feeding our Muses, sharing thoughts, exchanging scenes, keeping each other up at 2am. It's quite fun. And I'm so glad he made me do it, because I need something like this. And he's just awesome like that.

And I want you to be awesome, too! Please (pleasepleaseplease) help motivate me! Believe me, I need it. I'm already below par in my first week. I need some drive here. Tweet me, send an email, chat with me in the wee hours of the morning... whatever you can do. And I love being taken by surprise, so get me on a random day with something witty or cute or poetic. Always works.

Some extra info: I'm using the romance novels of Eva Ibbotson as my inspiration. In case you don't know, Eva Ibbotson is a BRILLIANTLY AMAZING writer and my favourite author. I love her so much that I have 4 out of 5 of her romances, and I underline and write out my favourite quotes and make a list of themes and allusions that I've found therein. Yes, she's that amazing. Hopefully by the end of these four weeks or so I will have a novel that is a fraction as good as Miss Ibbotson's.

Well, TTFN. I'll be back here soon. No, really, I will.

Musings on the Poetic, the Prosaic, and the Expression of Soul

So. I've been thinking, mostly on philosophical and abstract subjects, and this was my train of thought during one of those pensive days:

I asked myself a very basic, but no less important, question. Why do we write?

At some point in our lives, we learn to express ourselves through writing. Whether we are “good” writers or not, whether we know the rules of grammar or ignore them, whether we scrawl or flourish, type or write freehand – we all write.

People need words. Language is our connection to the world around us, to other people, even to ourselves. We are human, which means we live in dependence on other human beings: for moral and emotional support, for stability, for comfort and advice, for pleasure and happiness. We convey our emotions and needs to other people through both speech and the written word; moreover, we transcribe our own emotions by writing.

We write in diaries and journals and blogs, or on whatever we can grab at the time. Each of us has a muse, and each muse is different. Some are more artistic, others more logical. But the thing that ties us all together, in and amongst all our differences, is our ability to convey our feelings through the written word. Sometimes, we don’t exactly understand our own feelings, and we often find it hard to express them to others; this is where writing comes in. When we can’t discern our emotions, we write. We write nonsense and rambles and tirades and meaningless things. We write poetry, even if we ourselves don’t understand the words. We write stories about ourselves and ourselves reflected in characters and characters that have lives entirely different from ours. We write longings and hopings and dreamings, happiness and sadness, hatred and love. And in all of this, we somehow find ourselves.

Whoever is reading this right now, I encourage you - I implore you - to write, and to never stop.

Living Nightmare

It seems so long ago, as if it were a passing dream. Or a nightmare.

I wake up every morning, and all traces are gone. Life goes on... at least for a while. And then it starts, and continues, and ends eventually. The next day is the same, almost a replay. At this point, the record is skipping. The roller coaster is stuck and glides back and forth between the same two turns. I don't know when it will end.

I remember everything that happened - so distinct, yet still the waters are murky in my mind's eye. That Sunday morning resonates in my mind, a constant echo of what's happening now. I cannot bear that pain again, and yet I relive bits and pieces of it every day.

I just wish it would end. I need to move on, even if nothing changes. I cannot be stuck here, right in the middle of everyone's lives colliding and exploding around me. It will ultimately destroy me. I can feel that. I want to be there for the people I love, I really do. But a very wise friend once told me that I have to take care of myself first. What's the point if I help everyone else but lose myself in the process? What will it cost me to keep them happy? My freedom? My sanity?

I don't know how long I can last like this. I'm praying and holding on with my tiny, weak hands. My strength drains daily. I'm weary, lost. Even though I may not be drowning in tears all the time, the pain I feel when I see the ones I love most falling apart cannot be adequately put into words. All is drenched with anger and hurt and hatred and misery and lies. I don't even know what's truth anymore, save God, and love. Those are the only two things that prove true in my life right now.

There are so many songs that I could post that would perfectly display my emotions. But I've been listening to this song in particular over the past few days, and I can't seem to get it out of my head. It's called All You Wanted by Michelle Branch, and the chorus says this:

If you want to, I can save you, I can take you away from here. So lonely inside, so busy out there, and all you wanted was somebody who cares.

I need that right now. Someone to save me, take me away. I'm probably not going to get that anytime soon, but there's no harm in wishing. The nightmare is too real to have been a proper nightmare; I need to get out of it, to emerge into a good dream at last. Every night I have terrible dreams about what could be, about what I could lose. The end seems so far away. I've been trapped in replay for two years now, maybe longer. How close am I to change? How far away?

~:~

"For I know the plans I have for you... plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart." - Jeremiah 29:11-13

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. All who rage against you will surely be ashamed and disgraced; those who oppose you will be as nothing and perish. Though you search for your enemies, you will not find them. Those who wage war against you will be as nothing at all. For I am the Lord your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, 'Do not fear; I will help you.'" - Isaiah 41:10-13

Life Song

Dedicated to TWLOHA.

Lonely people, distant eyes,
Sore the heart of sorrow cries,
Never reaching out for life,
Endure the day with weary sighs.

Despair creeps in through their rain,
Arms bleed the way through pain;
They don't see sunlight through the storm.
They think no dawn will come again.

Heart of darkness, heart of fears,
Fiercer, fiercer, burning tears,
Fragile threads, almost vainly
Held together through the years.

Did you ever see her smile?
Trembling, trembling all the while,
She sleeps, she wakes, she cries and then
She knows she cannot walk the mile.

Dare you tell her it's alright?
Guide her through the dark of night?
Stay with her and hold her hand,
Give her peace and hope and light.

Tell them all, spread the news:
This time you don't have to lose!
Fight the fight, endure and hope,
You have now the power to choose.

Truth in midst of lies is found,
Darkness flees when dawn comes 'round,
Every shadow evidences sun;
To death we are no longer bound.

Each hand reach out to hold another,
Each heart lift a spirit higher,
Until joy shines on every face
And love makes us ever stronger.

Happy people, hopeful eyes,
Now the heart no longer cries;
Hear the song, rejoice in life,
Love, like hope, never dies.

~:~

© 2009 by Amanda Savino

Somebody's Little Princess

So I'm sitting here, on my couch, at 2:30 in the morning, watching P.S. I Love You. It's a very wonderful, romantic, heart-rending movie, and I might just post about it.

However this post isn't about sappy romances; it concerns a different kind of romance - the father/daughter kind.

Last night, I watched the 1995 rendition of A Little Princess with my daddy. Of course, I read the book about three times over when I was little, and I'm going to read it again, just to get that enveloping, warm feeling again.

This movie is one of the few movies that are guaranteed to make me tear up and/or cry uncontrollably every time I watch it. I'm not sure why... it's just so perfect. I don't think I've ever seen a better representation of the father/daughter relationship on film. Captain Crewe (played by Liam Cunningham) is possibly the most perfect father in the history of perfect fathers. The love that makes his eyes glow when he looks at Sara, the charm and strength he possesses... that alone makes me cry.

Here are a few videos about Captain Crewe and Sara. I was crying hysterically by the time I finished the last one.







The end scene is my absolute favourite. The way that Captain Crewe screams his daughter's name when he remembers... indescribable. It just shows how much he loves her, his little princess.

~:~

"You can be anything you want to be, my love, as long as you believe."

"What do you believe?"

"I believe that you are... and always will be... my little princess."

Always Remember I Love You

Always remember I love you.
Always remember I'm yours.
We belong to each other,
We'll do this together,
Always remember I love you.

Since the day we first met,
Destiny in stone was set.
The stars in motion
Declared our devotion;
Faithful and true,
One heart from two,
Deeper than the deepest ocean.

Through both calm and storm
You've kept me safe and warm;
It's the least I can do
To return it to you.
Never forget,
Never regret,
Never let go, stay true.

Always remember I love you.
Always remember I'm yours.
We belong to each other,
Together forever -
Always, forever, I love you.

~:~

© 2009 by Amanda Savino

Support To Write Love on Her Arms! Give hope, and become part of the love movement.

I am raising money for To Write Love on Her Arms (TWLOHA), a group dedicated to helping people who struggle with depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide. And I need your help. Please join the cause, and give hope to those who struggle in a broken world.

Since I have been going through difficulties in my own life, I have been opened up to a world of people - teenagers especially - who don't know what to do when they encounter difficult situations and trouble and pain. So they harm themselves, forsake hope, and give up their lives. God put a burden on my heart to reach out to these people, to give hope and love and life.

I love these words from the TWLOHA vision:

You were created to love and be loved. You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you're part of a bigger story. You need to know that your life matters.

We live in a difficult world, a broken world. My friend Byron is very smart - he says that life is hard for most people most of the time. We believe that everyone can relate to pain, that all of us live with questions, and all of us get stuck in moments. You need to know that you're not alone in the places you feel stuck.

We all wake to the human condition. We wake to mystery and beauty but also to tragedy and loss. Millions of people live with problems of pain. Millions of homes are filled with questions – moments and seasons and cycles that come as thieves and aim to stay. We know that pain is very real. It is our privilege to suggest that hope is real, and that help is real.

I want to make a difference, and I hope you will as well.

To learn more about the love movement, read the TWLOHA mission statement.
Find out how you can help spread the word and give support here.

Growing Up the Muse

So I have been musing lately (no surprise there). This time, however, I have been musing on a practical level. This I never do on a normal basis, but I am slowly coming to realize that I must not ignore reality any longer.

In precisely two weeks and two days, I will be seventeen years of age. Still young, yes, but getting older, more mature. And, faced with this prospect, I realize that I must bring myself to meet that maturity.

For the past few years, I have immersed myself in the world of the young girl that I never let go of. I do not regret doing so, but it is high time that I left that world behind, at least in part. This imaginary little world has affected the way I think, as well as the way I write. Therefore, my writing has remained shrouded in a little cloud -- or in a bubble, as I like to call it. I still love my bubble of an imagination, but I cannot let it influence my writing the way it has been.

As not only a writer, but a poet, and an author of fiction, I know I cannot stave off the little girl inside me. No, I must nurture her, preen her wings, prepare her for the world that awaits the two of us.

This means, of course, no rambling about fictional characters in the tween-ish way I'm accustomed to. I must approach the literary characters I encounter with a mature and level-headed mind. I'm trying to become more analytical, though I will by no means turn aside romantic attraction altogether.

Concerning personal writing goals, I must focus on the quality of my writing, and less on the subject matter. Yes, I must prioritize, and fast. The pressures of college searching and the coming year of school -- my last year -- are slowly working their way into my everyday life. Then there is my depression and fatigue, which cover me like a cloud and severely inhibit my Muse. I am trying to get my life in order, and writing and reading are constantly on my mind. Writing is my life force, and reading is the thing that drives it. My life is in disarray while my Muse is dormant. No matter what, I must fight to keep her awake.

My Muse takes on a few different forms, from tender faerie-child to fierce warrior-angel. Depending on my mood and what I am writing, she takes on a certain likeness. I don't want to change those likenesses, but I want to grow them up to match the mindset I need (if that makes any sense). Of course, if I mature, my Muse will follow suit. I rely on her. And she is, in every way, real. When I can't feel her is when I'm at my worst.

I must bring this to a close. I realize that I have promised things throughout the course of blogging that I have not gotten around to posting. I must say, as of late I have been very lacking in follow-through, and for that I apologize. Whatever I can post I will, and I will try to keep posting as often as I can.

That said, I hope I can get my Muse to squeeze out a few more poems and such before summer's end. Once I'm in school and my mind is occupied again, I'm sure I will be able to do better. I hope the medications I'm taking will give me the energy and the drive to get things done. I have high hopes for the coming year, and I trust God to keep me safe and secure and to lead me through these tough times.

To a Special Someone

Here again, all alone, I stand,
So pensive and spellbound;
Here I wait by the cool sea-strand
For you to come around.

If I could find the perfect way
To tell what's on my heart,
It won't be what I want to say.
No words can play the part.

Oh, how I wish that you could see
The pictures in my mind
Of memories you shared with me,
Of what you helped me find.

You taught me how to laugh inside
And how to start anew;
You told me where the angels hide,
Of stars in drops of dew.

We sat each dawn under our tree
Waiting for the sunrise.
I remember yearning to see
The moon shine in your eyes.

I kept each poem that we read --
Only to each other --
I treasure all you ever said,
Each loving word savor.

You made me smile, you dried my tears,
You healed my broken soul;
I came to you and, through the years,
You never let me go.

I pray for you each day and night,
You never leave my care;
You hold my shadow, star so bright,
None other can compare.

If, God forbid, we must depart --
Don't worry, I won't leave --
Promise me you'll keep my heart,
I love you, this believe.

~:~

© 2009 by Amanda Savino

New Blog

So I created a second, very wonderful blog: Through Eyes of China Blue.

And I love my new blog very much, and I think I shall have more fun with it. I shall continue to post here, though probably less frequently, because I think my new one to be more useful. This blog is solely for my thoughts and ramblings and poetry, whereas my new blog is more random and casual.

Please read and enjoy!

Images of Your Love

A recent poem of love and its beauty and imagery.
Kudos to my friend, Brian Cansler, for helping me come up with a title.


Love never-ending, impossible, true,
Love unconditional, endless and new –
You gave me your heart, you have mine;
Nothing can ever keep me from you.

‘Neath summer silence and autumn moon’s sigh,
Misty-veiled treasures in secret they lie:
Garnet and turquoise, amber, jade,
Lapis eyes lost in a pearl-blue sky.

Azalea floating on azure sea,
Songs of the wind captured by ancient trees;
Wisps of coloured air, spiraling free,
Painting the heavens, diamond-rain-tear.

Your eyes – I marvel at their hidden depths,
Containing purest worlds apart from this;
Meaningful looks, searching, piercing,
Ever loving, a dearest caress.

Ambrosial dreams and seraphic vision
Gloss over moonlight, and pale rays fallen
On crystal water shards, countless
Spheres that hold neither rhyme nor reason.

Through vales of willow trees and rose petals,
Cascading arcs of beryl-pink ripples,
Serenades of love – ah, sweet heart! –
Light up the night and bright starry aisles.

Whisper your love to me once more this night,
Hold me forever beneath the moonlight,
Twirl me round the dais of glass;
Now and forever our hearts unite.

~:~

© 2009 by Amanda Savino

Rebecca St. James music marathon

So, I'm having a Rebecca St. James music marathon right now. She is such an underappreciated musical genius. The following songs in particular have struck a chord in me; they're so true and beautiful.

Go And Sin No More
When we are at our lowest point, when we feel helpless and not good enough, God is there to help us through. God loves us even when we're not worthy to receive it. Christ loved us so much that He was willing to die on the cross, becoming sin and bearing it down to hell so that we would have the chance at eternal life with God. "Oh Lord, You search and You know me/You see me inside out/God, You alone can forgive me/Release my fear and my doubt/Father, You pick me up, I/Feel like a child in Your arms/I don't deserve this love, but/I hear Your voice, Lord Jesus"... God doesn't condemn us for our sins; He forgives and forgets them all. "Go, and sin no more," He commands us. And every time we stumble, He is always there to pick us up again.

You Are Loved
This is the best way to speak to someone about Christ. Just by telling someone that he is loved dearly, that he is chosen by God, is far better than preaching about hell and death and eternal damnation. In fact, God wants us to tell people of his love, not force the concept of salvation upon them by giving them the negative and telling them they are wretched sinners in need of saving. God's grace comes through His eternal love. There are people in my life that I want to minister to, and tell them that God loves them truly and without restraint. It is our job as Christians to show others the love of God by what we do and say. So if you have just one chance to tell someone about God, tell that someone about God's love. "Are you jaded?/Are you hurting now?/How I wish that I could tell/Where your heart's at/Can you see?/Mine has found home"... God loves us more than we will ever know, more than we can imagine.

Alive
We always want our own way, don't we? Well, we have much more freedom in Christ and under His authority than we will ever have on our own. God makes us come alive. The secret is that we have to let go of what we want. We can't let this life tie us down. "But you show me all this world can give/Cannot compare to the joy that comes from giving way"... Only if we give ourselves over to Him and let Him take control can we come alive.

Song Of Love
This song holds such beauty and power with simple words. The whole earth shakes and bows down when we worship God. "The heavens declare You are God, and the mountains rejoice/the oceans cry 'Aleluiah' as we worship You, Lord"... All of creation proclaims His power and glory, and creation, too, sings His praises. God's love for us is manifest in the world around us, and in turn fills us with a Song of Love.

Wait For Me
I adore this song. It's about waiting for the right man, waiting for marriage. It's a beautiful song, with a beautiful message. "Darling, did you know I dream about life together?/Knowing you will be forever/I'll be yours and you'll be mine/Darling, when I say 'Till death do us part'/I mean it with all of my heart/Now and always faithful to you"... This is what I dream about every day. The right man, the man God created just for me. My soulmate. God meant each of us to be faithful to one person for life. And the road is hard, but if it means I'm going to find my one and only, it's worth the wait. And guess what? God is waiting for me too -- waiting for each of us in eternity. He loves us unconditionally. He gave us that love -- agape -- to pour out to one special soul. That one special soul is waiting for me. And I'm going to wait for him. "Cause I am waiting for, waiting for you, darling/Wait for Me, too/Wait for Me as I wait for you/Darling, wait..."

I Thank You
We have so much to thank God for. He gives us everything we'll ever need; He is everything we'll ever need. He holds on to us, never letting go. It's the least we can do to thank Him, and to never let go of Him. God's mercy is renewed every day. He holds nothing against us, but rather loves us for who we are. He leads us through both times of blessing and times of trouble. "Your love is so amazing, beyond compare/And now I can't imagine life without you there/For You have healed my spirit/I'm resting in Your loving care"... We can't live our lives without Him. He heals us and blesses us. Our rest is in Him who gives us peace. He believes in us. He loves us. He gives us all of Himself. He never forsakes us or leaves us alone, even for a moment. His love is never-ending, never-ceasing. Therefore, it is fitting for us to say: "I thank You for believing in me/You've given me Your all and I will never be alone/I thank You, You've never stopped loving me/You've held on to my soul, and I'm never letting go."



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Now playing: Rebecca St. James - I Thank You
via FoxyTunes

A much needed, overdue pouring-out-of-soul.

This being unable to write is excruciating. I can't even write in my own private journal, let alone blog on a regular basis or write a poem or even continue my story. I have so much in my head, but for some strange, unthinkable reason, I've... lost the will to write... ? No. It can't be. There must be some other explanation.

Things are changing, rapidly and beyond belief. I'm changing, or have changed, not sure which just yet. I just hope I haven't changed too much, and I don't think I have. It's just... so hard to get through this. There's no balance anymore, no sense of relief, no peace into which I can escape. It's gone, and I don't know how to get it back right now. Usually, when things get rough, I creep into my otherworld, my happy place; except I can't find my happy place anymore, especially when I'm alone. I'm supposed to be happy when I'm alone, but more and more I find that I'm not happy at all. I'm rather miserable and sad and lonely.

Loneliness and emptiness - the two things I've always been afraid of. I've never been afraid of the dark, nor of heights, nor of almost any tangible thing. Those two feelings, however, I've always feared. And I fear them now more than ever. Just two states of mentality, abstract yet so tangible, so forceful and powerful and real. Two shrouds that put one's mind in a state of panic and chaos, terror and misery.

I'm sure everyone at one point or another has felt them. If you haven't, you are very fortunate.

Loneliness is a common thing. A child feels lonely when he's left alone in his bedroom at night. A young girl who has no friends feels lonely. The concept of loneliness is universal, but I believe it is most potent when applied to love: the couple going through a divorce, a teenage girl experiencing her first break-up, a lovestruck boy who can't have the girl he wants... the list goes on and on. To be lonely is to be human. It's a natural feeling, more prominent in some than others.

But what is emptiness? What does it feel like to be empty? Can one even feel it?

Nothing. Just misery and heartache and sadness. To be devoid of everything - your senses, your reasoning, your will - that is emptiness. It's what you feel when there is nothing left to live for, nothing for you to hold on to. Nothing makes sense, and hope is gone, almost sucked from the world. Not enough to drive you to suicide, but enough so that you are left stranded in misery and self-pity. It's as if a dark cloud has descended over your senses, clouding your judgment, encompassing your heart. That's emptiness.

Emptiness is a feeling of depression. I've experienced it many times. Often the most sentimental and emotional of us feel it or go through periods of it. If you're not careful, it can destroy you. It's dangerous, though sometimes unavoidable. Loneliness, to a lesser degree; however, both scare the hell out of me. And I've been treading in and out of their waters for a while, sometimes wading, sometimes wallowing. Sinking - once or twice.

So where's the sun glossing over the water's surface? The light at the end of the tunnel? For me right now, it's visible, but I'm not there yet. Sometimes it moves farther and farther away so that I feel I can never reach it. Sometimes it stays in one place, and my hopes rise that I'll make it soon.

What do you dream of?

When at night you're fast asleep,
As you lie in slumber deep,
And dreams through your mind do sweep,
What do you dream of?

Is there sun or is there rain,
Or does the moon wax or wane?
Does the morning come again?
What do you dream of?

Can you then release your pain,
All your secrets to refrain?
Do you shed your tears in vain?
What do you dream of?

While in the dark you still sleep,
I will dry the tears you weep;
Never fear! My hold will keep
The dreams you dream of.

~*~

© 2009 by Amanda Savino

Happy St. Paddy's Day!!!

Ah, the day of the Irish has come around once again. It's too bad it's only an annual celebration... I feel like celebrating it every day! It's not only the Irish in me that makes me so happy; St. Patrick's Day - the day itself - has an extraordinary effect on my senses. It feels, I don't know, different to say the least, special even. Like Christmas. There's a certain air on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day that you can't feel on any other day. The same way with St. Patrick's. There's a really attractive, comforting atmosphere that I wish I could experience every day.

Anyway, I couldn't go to the parade in the city, even though I've been dying too. However, I shall try my best for next year. What I did do was wear green accessories to school... and I hated the fact that St. Paddy's was on a school day, btw. I did up my hair with a makeshift headband - made out of a gorgeous green fabric that I bought from a craft store last year - because I couldn't find my regular green headband, which wouldn't have stayed on my head anyway. And my makeshift headband was fantastic and beautiful, if I do say so myself. I wore a ton of green/Irish jewellry, and a white sweater to complement instead of the usual burgundy. I felt great, too, even though I haven't been feeling too well lately.

Yahoo! featured a super-adorable dancing shamrock today:

Best. Logo. Ever. (Sorry for the bad quality; it's very hard to record a computer screen. Backround music: The Irish Washerwoman.)
It's SO cute! I want one.

The rest of today didn't go exactly as I envisioned. I got hit with a wave of nausea after school and I was sort of crippled on the couch from stomach pains for a while... so I had a sort of stressful day, though not as stressful as usual. I really wanted to light my candles tonight and sing some Irish favorites of mine, but the day just got too hectic and the night escaped me. Surprisingly, I woke up this morning to the first song on my alarm clock - Heartland by Celtic Thunder - and I listened and sang along with the songs to follow. I made a special St. Paddy's playlist just for today, and I'm going to continue to use it throughout the week in hope that the magic will wake me up early again ;).

I do miss the magic of the day, though. It's not the same now, looking ahead to every normal day. I hate normal days. I have way too many. Well, these days are as normal as they can get for me. I wouldn't define my life as normal, but they're normal enough without being bad or good. That's why I hate "normal" days so much. They're all the same. It's like the rollercoaster is stuck. However, I do feel that something is going to change soon. I just don't know if it's good or bad, or when it's going to happen. My tiny little hunch is leaning towards bad, though. But I'm not afraid of the future. I'm facing it head on, and I'm going to get through whatever comes.

Anways, for now I'm just trying to get through each day. It's really hard now, with what's happening at school and at home... I have no peace of mind anymore. Except for on Sundays. Sundays are the best days of the week and the only days I look forward to. Church is amazing every week. Pastor preaches the best sermons, and he always gives the perfect message at the right time. I can relate it to what I'm feeling or going through at the time, and it both convicts my soul and sets it at ease. God really moves through him, and I love seeing that in church. Thus Sunday is superior to any other day of the week.

Um, what else... I'm picking up journaling again. I love blogging, but a journal is more private. And I miss physically writing when I have a lot on my mind. It's a relief to do so, especially when I don't get the inspiration I need for poems and more story ideas. So maybe once I make it a habit again, I can take bits and pieces from my journal and blog them. It will make me feel better, I guess. I like ranting (in case you haven't noticed), and I often repeat the same stuff. Heck, I'm ranting now, haha.

Little side note: I finished all four Twilight books and the partial, online draft of Midnight Sun, so expect wonderfully long rants about that. Also, I read this fantastic book called A Company of Swans by Eva Ibbotson, and I found it extremely rave-worthy. More things to look for... I did promise a list of OTPs, which I'm still compiling. (And for anyone who doesn't know, OTP means one true pairing, as in soul mates, perfect couple, etc.) My list will cover movies, tv shows, and books. Also, while I'm on the topic, I'm looking forward to some romantic ranting and more poetry. That is, as soon as I get myself together. Which might take a while... or longer... so bear with me. One more thing: I might consider posting some of my rather brilliant story that I'm working on. That is to say I haven't considered it yet. I'm very selective on who I let read this particular story, and I haven't let anyone read anything yet (except for one scene which I posted on facebook, but I have to clear that one up anyway). Once I'm at the point of considering, I'll let you know.

Okay, I think I'm done. Happy St. Patrick's Day to all (well, what's left of it) and to all a good night... Wait, wrong story... and to all lots of Irish kisses ;). Here's hoping for many more joyous St. Paddy's Days to come.

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Now playing: Laura MacKenzie - The Irish Washerwoman (The Irish Washerwoman/The Hag at the Churn/Humors of Whiskey/Ellis Kelly's Delight)
via FoxyTunes

Scorned

This is the first full poem I've been able to write in a long time. It has nothing to do with my current feelings.


Weary months, longer years,
Days I filled with silent tears -
What mean they now? And, really, why
For you did I ever cry?

Wasted time, added fears,
Spare me your crocodile tears!
I'm yours no more; don't even try
To tell me that clichéd lie.

Searing pain - heartache's spears -
Leaks its way through burning tears.
I'll never hear your last goodbye
As I lay me down to die.

~:~

© 2009 by Amanda Savino