This blog was inspired by the song "On My Way Here" by Ryan Tedder. In the chorus it says, "On my way here, where I am now, I've learned to fly you have to want to leave the ground. I've fallen hard, but I've been loved, and in the end it all works out. My faith has conqered fear, on my way here." I want to remember my falls, my faith and flight so I remember it here.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
"There will be challenges in life...
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
What I do Instead of Finals

Stuck on a bench with wet paint to my knees.
You once sat here with me
and now I sit here alone,
searching the nearby trees, for answers?
well maybe…or maybe for just simple memories.
Leaves freckle the ground like the freckles I can still see on your soft lids
Eyes closed in a kiss
Our story closed, and it’s one I miss.
Sitting on this bench and staring at the sky
Clouds in the atmosphere of my mind
Wondering
Waiting
Wishing
Here at this bench we used to sit
Birds at our feet, we fed them our hopes and pictured our dream.
There was a day when you pointed at the sky and told me it was you and me in the light of the moonbeam.
You and me I keep telling myself it was you and me.
Was and not is.
and cannot be.
Reasons why aren’t found in tears I cry.
They weren’t in your hopeful or sorry beautiful eyes.
So brown and so true it’s impossible to forget you.
Your touch, your scent, they’re escaping me
Your voice replays over and over in my head
but it’s distantly fading
So I return to our bench in this place where I live
It’s not our bench
I am here and you’re not
Who will take my love I give?
It’s not our bench, no not anymore
Soon enough you won’t be next door
It’s my bench now and not ours anymore
It’s newly painted but you’ll never see,
because you no longer are this bench to me
I sat down and traced where you’d sit in my mind
Close my eyes you’d take my hand maybe one more time
The bench is wet, no not from tears
from new beginnings which makes me fear.
I am alone at this new bench paint to my knees
The paint is covering what remained of you and me.
This bench used to be so comfy and safe
but now I sit and ponder about space
Space in between me and you
Space in my mind that is filled with dreams never meant to come true
I run my fingers through the fresh new paint
It’s cold and a mess and reminds me of my pain
I look down at the marks that I’ve made in the bench they’re new and not old
and nothing makes sense
I see the old wood worn out in time the brown strains
they meet their end with a new coat of paint
So in this bench is you and me
the you and me the cannot be
the end of our brown strains and the time we spent
the end of everything that meant
it meant to me and it meant to you
and now I know I must find somewhere new
a place to sit with someone by my side
someone in whom I will confide
someone like you I can only dream
so I take my dream and my new stained pants
I am off to find a new romance
I turn and stare at this bench of us
our love and time now falling as dust
dust on the ground to be blown away
for at this bench we cannot stay
tears fill my eyes as I walk away
because more than anything I want to stay
I close my eyes for one last time
I run through memories and see you there
I see you running your hands through your hair
I see your smile
your laughter
your gaze
and now I am trapped in a maze
I open my eyes and see the bench
it’s not ours nor mine
because you are that Bench.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
all things shall cease
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Day 24-A picture of something you wish you could change
Friday, April 15, 2011
Day 23-A picture of your favorite book

Thursday, April 14, 2011
Day 22-A picture of something you wish you were better at
More than anything though I wish I had to ability to compose. Ten years of lessons and classical training and theory lessons have not made it happen. I wish so bad I could write like Beethoven. I have so many songs and melodies in my heart.....if only my hands knew how....


