make me feel better
I tell you everything, even when you don’t want to listen. You’re who I run to. I just like being along side of you…
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
you’re gonna suffer for my sins
Most of you know how much I love Terra Naomi, her music and the unbelievable things she does with her voice, and how I just can’t get enough of her. Well, this past Sunday I had the pleasure of seeing her amazing talented self at Joe’s Pub. And as always, she was fantastic. It was a very intimate show, not a huge crowd, only her, her two guitars and piano on stage. But what made the night for me, well not really “made” the night, but what had me thinking after the show was one particular song of hers, “Suffer for Her Sins.” Though a new song, I have heard it before, but I guess I never really paid that much attention to the lyrics. But the song is basically about a mother and daughter, and how the daughter is going to spend her life suffering for her mothers sins. I spent the entire train ride home, plus the last several days wrapping my brain around the idea of this. And somewhere between Sunday night and this morning I’ve come to accept or maybe grasp is a better word, that this concept is true.
I believe in karma, that what goes around, comes around. I believe we can and do affect the lives of others without being aware of it. And I DO believe that we ourselves not only pay for our sins but those around us do as well. That our sins and actions cause a ripple effect, spanning outward, touching and crashing into those around us. But I ask, How can this be? How can it be fair to suffer for someone else’s mistakes and actions? I don’t know. Though, I believe that all our actions and decisions have consequences, good or bad, and we can affect those around us positively as well as negatively.
After reciting and contemplating the lyrics in my head I immediately wanted to call my mom and thank her for being the most saintly, holy person I know. For not making stupid decisions, for realizing early on that her actions just might affect her children. My mother and I have actually had a similar conversation such as this, but I have never bothered or taken the time to say, thank you. God knows that the pain and suffering I’ve had in my life is a direct result of my own actions and sins. I am beyond grateful that my mother kept her sinning to a minimum. Because wow, have I made some horrible decisions and mistakes all on my own. I already feel guilty and ashamed because somehow, eventually my children will suffer for something I’ve done or yet to do. And that scares the hell out of me.
*Here is a video of “Suffer for Her Sins.” I’ve also included the lyrics.When I was just a little girl
My mother said to me
Just before she tucked me into bed
As she leaned in close
I felt her lips upon my cheek
And softly these six words are what she said
You’re gonna suffer for my sins
You’re gonna suffer for my sins
There is no escaping this
It comes from deep within
You’re gonna suffer for my sins
Predictably those cursed words did haunt me everyday
No matter what, no matter where I hid
I spend my years believing that there was no other way
But suffering and suffering’s what I did
Oh yes, I suffered for her sins
That’s right, i suffered for her sins
There is no escaping this
It comes from deep within
And so I suffer for her sins
30 years have passed since mama brought me to this world
That’s 30 years spent trapped inside this shell
And nobody believes me
They think I’m a foolish girl
But there are many different kinds of hell
And now I suffer for her sins
Oh yes I suffer for her sins
There is no escaping this
It comes from deep within
And so I suffer for her sins
Oh now I suffer for her sins
Oh yes I suffer for her sins
There is no escaping this
It comes from deep within
And so I suffer for her sins
Oh yes I suffer for her sins
Friday, June 22, 2007
what the hell: not always a good idea
When everyone else is doing it, when you just don’t feel like saying no, when you can’t think of a better excuse not to, when you don’t have anything to loose, When you don’t have anything better to do, when you’re too drunk to know the difference, when you just don’t care anymore, or when it just doesn’t matter: you throw your hands in the air and say, “What the hell.”
Lately I’ve been using this particular phrase more and more. I’ve found that I’m either too tired to care, or it just simply sounds like too much fun to pass up. It’s too hard and tiring to argue with myself, my friends, and strangers. That inevitably I give in, toss my hands up and smile.
However, I’ve found, or rather people I know have found that this phrase can only be used in certain situations. There are times when “What the hell” should never be use, EVER, no exceptions. To make things a little easier for you, which is always my goal in life: to make things easier for everyone but myself. I have made a list of situations when “What the hell” is NEVER OK. Please read carefully, take notes even.
When “What the hell” is NOT OK:
- To taking the seventh shot of tequila when you lost track two shots before as to what shot you were actually on.
- Bringing the random drunk guy you met at the bar back to your place.
- Having sex with the random drunk guy you met at the bar.
- Allowing the random drunk guy you met at the bar to stay the rest of the night because he’s too tired to go home.
- Giving the random drunk guy you met at the bar your number as he’s awkwardly leaving you place the next morning. For the most part, “What the hell” is a good motto. You know, for when you order take-out three nights in a row, when you splurge and buy an entire new wardrobe instead of just the shirt, or when you drunk dial an ex or a new man. But in no circumstance should it be the cause of a drunken one-night-stand. Because by giving in to one “What the hell” just might make it easier to give in to the next. When by simply saying “NO” to begin with, you might have prevented the whole thing. But then again, what the hell, it was probably fun.
- Bringing the random drunk guy you met at the bar back to your place.
- Having sex with the random drunk guy you met at the bar.
- Allowing the random drunk guy you met at the bar to stay the rest of the night because he’s too tired to go home.
- Giving the random drunk guy you met at the bar your number as he’s awkwardly leaving you place the next morning. For the most part, “What the hell” is a good motto. You know, for when you order take-out three nights in a row, when you splurge and buy an entire new wardrobe instead of just the shirt, or when you drunk dial an ex or a new man. But in no circumstance should it be the cause of a drunken one-night-stand. Because by giving in to one “What the hell” just might make it easier to give in to the next. When by simply saying “NO” to begin with, you might have prevented the whole thing. But then again, what the hell, it was probably fun.
Friday, May 25, 2007
sometimes smiling hurts my face
Mom: Long sigh, accompanied with rolled eyes, “What’s wrong?”
Brooke: “…………………..”
Mom: “Why are you crying?”
Brooke: (Insert horrible sobbing, along with snot and tears) “I don’t know.”
Mom: “What do you mean you don’t know? Is there something wrong? Did you have a bad day at school? Are you hurt?”
Brooke: Still sobbing, “No…I don’t know.”
Mom: “Brooke!”
Brooke: “What? I don’t know.”
Mom: “Well, if nothings wrong then dry it up and put a smile on your face.”
Brooke: “It hurts my face to smile.”
Mom: Another long sigh, but with hands thrown in the air, “Fine. Then cry. I give up.”
Throughout my three years in junior high, this was the daily conversation my mother and I shared when she would get home from work. I would be thrown across my bed, face down, crying into a pillow. To talk, I would only slightly turn my head, never making eye contact with her. She was concerned and she did care, but she was tired. She was tired with it all, “It” being me.
I hated junior high. I hated going. I hated being there. I hated myself while I was there. It wasn’t that I was an outcast, and I wasn’t that girl that everyone made fun of. I had friends, but I wasn’t popular, that wasn’t the problem. I didn’t mind that I wasn’t popular. I felt that I was popular enough. I had the cool clothes, the cool shoes, good grades, good hair, good complexion, and good friends. But still, I was miserable and I would come home and cry everyday. I guess puberty had a lot to do with it. My hormones were severely off balance. I believe I had a chronic stomach ache for three years. I would refuse to go to school the week I was on my period, complaining that I was in too much pain, and my teachers wouldn’t allow me to go to the bathroom during class and I didn’t have time to go between classes. I would beg my mother every morning to let me stay home. This ploy only worked about once every two or three months. On the days she made me go, I would call, usually after lunch and plead with her to come and get me. This tactic rarely worked either, and when it did, I was not taken home, but taken to her office where I would bounce between examining rooms until the end of the day, when she was finished seeing patients. How I rationalized this was better than being at school is still a mystery to me.
School overall, sucked. However, what got me through each day, beginning in eighth grade, was my pre-algebra teacher, Mrs. Zutaut. Without her, I’m not sure I would have made it through junior high. She fascinated me and I looked up to her for that reason alone. She took time to listen and offer advice. She allowed me to hang out in her room when I didn’t want to go to class. She was my safe haven, someone I could talk to, someone I could go to, someone who took an interest. She was my teacher, a teacher who at the time cared. While shuffling through boxes of my books today, I stumbled upon a book she gave me, along with a poem and a letter. The poem said:
“No one can determine who I am, but myself. My parents can not. My teachers can not. My friends can not. They can guide me, but in the final analysis the problem is completely mine. For I have abilities that are completely unique to me and the challenges of life is for me to discover them, to develop them, to use them. For then and only then will I know who I am.”
Tears streamed down my face as I read these words. Still, after all these years I realize I still look to my parents, teachers, friends, and now even boy friends, and jobs to determine who I am. Even years of maturing and growing, I have not learned to trust in myself. I’m not sure if that’s a skill I will grasp. I rely so heavily on what other people think that I’ve lost sight of who I am. I realize I do this, but still, I continue to do it…Why?
Looking back now, I ask myself, was I a depressed teenager? Sure. Was I just going through a phase? Yeah. Did I eventually out-grow it? Sort of. My mother would say I’ve gotten better, but I still have my moments. And I would have to agree with her. I still go through days where I prefer to be alone and be down and depressed. I feel you can’t be happy everyday, though my mother doesn’t agree. She says, “Being happy is sometimes a choice, and sometimes you have to choose to be happy.” I believe that’s true to a degree. But then I feel that sometimes it’s ok to be sad and unhappy, and not know why. I still hate it when she say’s, “Put a smile on your face, let me see the pretty girl hiding under that frown.” And I always respond with, “It hurts my face to smile.”
Monday, March 26, 2007
i should have been there and i wasn’t
I saw you today. At first I didn’t want to be there. I thought of a million excuses and reasons for me not to go, but still I did. Once I was there I was ready to leave, something in me didn’t want to stay. I was nervous and I couldn’t sit still. My attention was elsewhere, not on the talk at hand. My mind drifted along with my eyes. It was difficult, almost impossible for me to concentrate on one particular thing. My thoughts kept jumping. My fingers kept thumbing. My words kept stumbling and all I could think of was, “Why am I here?” And my answer, “You.” You’re the reason I was there and the reason I shouldn’t have stayed.
I saw you today. I saw you cry. And I couldn’t comfort you. I didn’t know what to say or how to hold you. I didn’t know how. I just stood there, it was all I could do. I was paralyzed with helplessness and guilt. You were alone and you looked at me. I always find it hard to look you in the eye. I saw the wet on your face and the tears were still in your eyes. And again, I just stood there. Then you took me in your arms and you held me. You relieved me when I should have been consoling you. Why? I didn’t need to be held. I should have been there. But I failed you. It’s not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I have perfected the art of failure to those I care the most about.
I saw you today. I should have been there for you, but I was a coward. I let fear and judgment consume me, and I remained planted in my seat. I let you stand alone and broken. I let you fall apart, while I sat back and watched. I should have been a friend and been there for you. I should have held you, soothed you, been a pillow for your head. I should have been the strong one and pulled your weight along with mine. Your burden I should have picked up and carried. I didn’t have to say anything. I didn’t have to have words of wisdom or a solution to it all. I just needed to have been by your side and held you along the way. I should have been the eyes that cried with you and the knees that kneeled with you. I should have been there.
I saw you today. And you saw me. You saw what I was capable of and how easily I can turn my head. You saw my weakness, my quickness to leave. There are a lot of things I should have done, and I’m sorry.
Tuesday, November 7, 2006
stranger of mine
People come into your life when you need them most. God places them in your path at defined moments, that is, if you believe in God, and I do. I believe there is a higher being and power constantly watching over me. These people may not remain, but will leave behind a word, phrase, touch, or look that will leave an imprint on your life forever. They help you through hard times, bad days, good days, and decisions. They don’t have to say anything, their look is enough. You may never see their face again but you know how they made you feel, and for that, you will never forget them or what they have done for you.
Usually, they are not aware of the impression they have made. They may not know your name, your face, your voice, or even your existence, but that is not their objective. They are placed before you, for you to take notice of them, to be aware of them, and appreciate and use what they have given you. They are in your life for a purpose, it may be for only a second or a lifetime, but they are there because you need them to be there.
They are on the street, in the seat next to you, behind the counter, next in line, in the next room, in a book, on a page, or waiting on the other line. You may know them, you may not. They may be permanent fixtures in your life, they may not. They may be a friend, acquaintance, or a stranger, but they are there, waiting to connect with you. Allow yourself to be touched by them. You may not fully recognize or comprehend why they are placed in your life at specific moments, but you will. It may be tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, or ten years from now, but one day it will all make sense and fall into place.
Be thankful of these people. Most will never know how they have impacted and touched your life. Many are not aware they have done anything at all, but they have. Take notice of these people, be aware of them, be grateful and appreciative them. Understand that you have the power to impact someone’s life, good or bad. Someone once said, “They may not remember you, but they will always remember the way you made them feel.” This is true, for everyone. Just by reading this, you have impacted and changed my life.
Usually, they are not aware of the impression they have made. They may not know your name, your face, your voice, or even your existence, but that is not their objective. They are placed before you, for you to take notice of them, to be aware of them, and appreciate and use what they have given you. They are in your life for a purpose, it may be for only a second or a lifetime, but they are there because you need them to be there.
They are on the street, in the seat next to you, behind the counter, next in line, in the next room, in a book, on a page, or waiting on the other line. You may know them, you may not. They may be permanent fixtures in your life, they may not. They may be a friend, acquaintance, or a stranger, but they are there, waiting to connect with you. Allow yourself to be touched by them. You may not fully recognize or comprehend why they are placed in your life at specific moments, but you will. It may be tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, or ten years from now, but one day it will all make sense and fall into place.
Be thankful of these people. Most will never know how they have impacted and touched your life. Many are not aware they have done anything at all, but they have. Take notice of these people, be aware of them, be grateful and appreciative them. Understand that you have the power to impact someone’s life, good or bad. Someone once said, “They may not remember you, but they will always remember the way you made them feel.” This is true, for everyone. Just by reading this, you have impacted and changed my life.
