Quotes added on Sunday, October 26 2014

The best and most beautiful things in the world
cannot be seen or even touched,
they must be felt with the heart.

 
This quote does not exist.
The measure of who we are
is what we do with what we have.

 

Nothings is impossible,
the word itself says "I'm possible!"

 

Believe you can
and you're halfway there.

 
It is during our darkest moments
that we must focus to see the light.

 
This quote does not exist.
 
Alone at last we can sin and fight. And I've lost all faith in this blurring light, (Stay right here we can change our plight. Storming through this despite what's right.) One final fight for this tonight. Whoa-oh-oh With knives and pens we made our plight. [The lyric video's additional line:] Whoa-oh-oh Lay your heart down, the end's in sight. Conscience begs for you to do what's right. (Everyday it's still the same dull knife, Stab right through and justify your pride.) One final fight for this tonight. Whoa-oh-oh With knives and pens we made our plight. Whoa-oh-oh Well I can't go on without your love, you lost, you never held on. (We tried our best. Turn out the light. Turn out the light!) One final fight for this tonight. Whoa-oh-oh With knives and pens we made our plight. Whoa-oh-oh Well I can't go on without your love, you lost, you never held on. (We tried our best. Turn out the light. Turn out the light!

And we stretched our arms out far,
Like a thin small piece of thread.
You were holding onto your life.
While I'm the only one who's trying,

To stop you from letting go, of the rope.
I realized when we hug, we stretch.
Trying to reach other, from the other side.
I've been trying to breathe, but I can't.

And you were looking at me in the mirror,
My own reflection, watching me as I cry.
Have I ever told you it was hard?. Too see,
Your parents cry, and tell you, it was okay.

Every "hey are you okay" or the "stop being weak".
Trust me, I tried holding onto the rope,
I can feel the small strands cutting off. 
The girl I tried so hard to hold onto..
Was just me, in the mirror.

eli


portland, oregon 2014

10:13 A.M


“Eli!”

Eli shot up with a start, wondering if he had been dreaming or not.

“Eli!”

That little hope that maybe it was a dream was shattered by the blood-curdling scream of his little sister.  He clumsily climbed out of bed and jogged to Rosie’s room, opening her door to see her knees pulled up to her chest, and he eyes covered with her blanket.

Eli climbed into bed next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Rosie?”

The look of absolute terror she gave him when she looked at him confirmed his suspicions; her nightmares were back.

He knew it wasn’t easy for Rosie; a 13 year old girl who still sleeps with a stuffed animal and a nightlight is bound to get constant teasing from her peers, and she did.  She was constantly coming home with a tear-stained face and her mother often complained about the amount of calls she received from her throughout the day.  Eli didn’t mind, though.  “He would always be there for her,” he often told her.  And he meant it.

They laid down under the heart-covered comforter and Rosie told him about her recurring dream.  Eli played with her hair and told her things such as, “It’ll be ok,” and, “I’m right here,” and, “It was just a dream, it’s over now.”  And soon she went to sleep to him humming a tune his mother used to sing to him.
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