Lanna

An Angel Got His Wings

Fri, 31 Oct 2008 20:30:44 GMT

We miss you, Beatz. This is for you<3

one last thing;

Sun, 26 Oct 2008 00:09:06 GMT

I adore him.
Recently i have been feeling rather awful about how i look & feel about myself
& him calling me cute & telling me that it's perfectly okay to be cute (as much as i absolutely hate it, mainly because i am aware that i am cute & i will be cute on purpose, but that's besides the point) but him telling me that made me so happy.
sometimes all ti takes is someone being nice & you'll feel good

like with this photo;

when i seen it on the camera screen i was blown away by it, i'm not stunning or anything in it, but i like it & micheal told me i was beautiful.
That really made my day :]

sometimes a little compliment like that meens the world to me.

dunno why i posted this, i guess i'm just bored, waiting on my iPod updating y'see.
ah well, this will make up for me not posting so often

over & over & over & out.

Yeah i know;

Sat, 25 Oct 2008 23:58:54 GMT

What happened to 'i'll update everyday'
well i actually started an update on the second day, but just never got round to finishing it
it just became soppy & depressing & i got to the stage where i couldn't keep typing about what i started because it upset me & there was no proper way of rounding it all off, so i gave up. Anyhow, lets say regualr updates instead of every day.

I know that writing in a blog or a journal when you're pissy or upset isn't exactly the best thing to do sometimes, cause you say how you really feel about something & then dread to think what others will take from it when they read it. Well for once i'd like to just post something & not care, mainly cause i know hardly anyone will read/see this.

So, i'm back from my daily argument with my mum over the internet. She likes to switch it off & i like to switch it back on again. I don't get it tbh. It's only just past mid-night, it's the weekend, i'm freaking 18 & to be perfectly honest, there's a lot worse things i could be doing & a lot worse places i could be. So why can't i be left in my room to browse the internet with out a fight every night. I say fight, really it's not physical, more than it's a verbal dissagreement, ah an argument, yes that's the word.

My mum is a control freak.
It's as simple as that.
She wants me to be an adult, but i get phone calls whenever i'm out checking up on me, asking when i'll be home for dinner or when i'm getting the train. I just want to be left to love my life, i don't want her towering over everything i do. I feel like a child in her eyes, i know i'm 'her little girl' but really, she's never felt like a mother to me.
I envy every girl i know that's so insanely close to their mother, that can share their thoughts & feelings with them, can go out & have fun, can even share intrests. I don't have that, i have someone that wants to control every aspect of my life so i can feel like it's constantly being ruined. I'm not saying that i want to be close to my mum as such, but more i'm missing that person in my life that i can tell everything to & i know they're there to listen & guide me in the right direction. I get it from my dad to an extent, but i could never go into personal details with my dad & talk about friends & guys.

That's one thing i really hate about my family, now that i think about it.
My sister goes through more guys than she does knickers in a week.
Okay, slight exageration, but she's had at least 3 'serious' boyfriends this year & she's onto the fourth, all who she's loved & possibly more.
I know for a fact she's 'been' with one of them & i was actually appauled when i found out. She's 15 y'know, well 14 at the time. I think it's disgusting that she could go through with that at her age. Fuck, i'm 18 & never been with anyone in my life & i'm so proud of that fact. Maybe a little embarresed sometimes, when i know it's fairly likely that i'm generally around people who clearly aren't virgins & like to talk about sex & i just sit back & listen, because i have little or no imput to the conversation. I know that the loss of your virginity is never going to be this perfect experience but i'd never throw it away to someone i know that i'd be through with in afew weeks & i'd never throw it away to someone that didn't at least care about me, love would possibly be a very important factor for myself, maybe not the love from them as such, but if i felt like i could love them, then it would be something i'd consider. I don't want it to be with some sex crazed idiot either, y'know the type of guy who beds every girl he has & finds it hilarious that you're a virgin & would like to fix that 'problem' as soon as he possibly could. I'm a romantic at heart, i don't want it to be about sex, i want it to be sharing love between two people, but these days it's always about sex. There's so many more important things about being with someone than sex & very few people see that now-a-days. I speak from experience after spending quite a while making it very clear to someone that i'm not sleeping with the guy i like, because as much as i'd maybe like to, there's so many more important things right now & when being with him becomes the important thing, then it'll happen. He just didn't believe me though & i totally didn't understand it, because i certainly do not scream 'hiya sexxxx' You only have to take one look at me to know that, jeez. I am not the most attractive person in the world & i never believe people when they tell me otherwise, apart from a few weeks back. He's spent forever telling me i'm sexy & hot & whatever else, but he had me in his arms & said to me 'you're so pretty... no, you're beautiful' & i've never felt happier than i did right then.

Woah, i've went a bit off on one.
I wanted to make it clear how much i despise my mother, but it's more turned out to well, i'm not even sure.
I do dis-like my mum, very much. Despite what you might all think, she's a horrible woman.
But one thing i have failed to mention is that it's all due to one thing, one thing she could so easily go without, but she probably never will & it's her wine.
It makes her the most horrible person ever.
The reason i never want to rely on drink is because i don't want to turn out like her.
I'm a happy drunk, she's an argumentative drunk.
One day maybe i'd change to be a bitter one, but i don't want to see it.
I don't need drink to have a good time, yeah every now & again it's okay.
Althugh, i've probably hit my drinks quota for the year (believe me, it's not high) during august/september.

One other thing i started on, was how it's perfectly acceptable for my sister to have a boyfriend, but my family laugh at the thought of me being with anyone. Probably why i had my exploration days, which went further than most know. I hid a lot from my friends when i was exploring my sexuality. I'm perfectly happy to say i've found it & i'm all for being with guys. But yeah, i went there, mearly dipped my toe in the water. In some terms, i wish i'd never, but really i'm glad i did, now i know what i really want.

Anyhow, this is dragging on slightly.
I promise they won't all be like this, well i hope.

over & over & over & out.

I think;

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 19:14:17 GMT

I'm actually going to attempt to use this, for like the 32498734 time this year.
Cause i started in January, then got pissy at what i wrote & deleted it all, bar the TWLOHA's thing.
Anyhow, let's see what's going on in my life.

Work;
I'm still in clarks, working 12/16 hours a week, not a lot but the credit crunch has taken it's toll on the shop, we've gotta deal with being under-staffed most days & I've gotta deal with not being able to get the hours that I'd like to have or that Jane would like to give me.
It's not all that bad though, depending on when i start, i'm pretty much only ever doing stock& serving a kid or two. It passes the time, i enjoy who i work with & i love all the free time i have to 'find myself' which i think i'm doing pretty well.
I miss team Buzz though, the only downside to being in during the day, but i still love the girlies :]

Friends;
Heather's still here, as always :] I love her to pieces & i'm glad she's here. Yeah sometimes i wanna slap her about the face cause i'm on a downer & i wanna talk & she's spazzing about something, but i've got round that & it's all good.
Aaron, i never thought i'd become like 'friends' with him, it's really weird, but i like it. We usually just insult each other. I'm well chuffed i got him into; Bayside, Army of Freshmen & Punchline, sharing the music i love makes it all worth the while & I'll be seing Bayside with him in December <3
Franzi; Yeah, she's still here too, love her loads too, just wish i could meet her!
Sinead; I love spending time with this girl, she's so bright cheary & pleasant, couldn't possibly be a nicer girl on the face of this earth, i only met her in April & tbh it's only been recnetly at our Twin Atlantic outings that i've gotten to be her friend & really grow to like her.
Cleo; I'm her asshole, her beloved Anal :) & i like to touch her up :O! This girl is so crazy, but yes i love her too hah.
Marc; very new addition to the friends, but he's so nice, abit weird yeah but it makes him lol. We've also bonded over Twin Atlantic, although our conversations are rather wrong; BONDAGE BARRY FTW!
Glasgow Crew; Shell, Nicola, Lindsay, Kara & Micheal; those guys are amazing i love hanging around with them, yeah they're a bit younger than me but going to gigs without them just wouldn't be the same & ahh the banter <3
Okay, they all think i'm uber cutw atm & will do anything to make me giigle so they can aww at me, but i still love them all :]
Lastly; Keith; Now this is a weird one, cause really he's a friend, that's more than a friend, that should probably be my boyfriend, but isn't, rofl.
I've really grown to like him, it's as simple as that really. Yeah i'd like there to be more, but there's a lot more to all this than i'm willing to tell people, but when things are good with us, then i'm the happiest girl in the world :] I could probbaly go on forever, but no point boring you haha.

Music;
Yes it's all still about Bayside, Army of Freshmen, Silverstein & Punchline.
Plunket, The Status & Twin Atlantic
I'm at more gigs than i can shake a stick at, but i think i might leave that for another post :]

I can't think of much else, but i think i might update daily, or try to.

As for today, i've not done alot.
Not really been feeling right, so i had a lazy day & been downloading loads for my ipod :)

Over & over & over & out.

Jamie Tworkowski :)

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 02:09:23 GMT

Jamie Tworkowski, founder of To Write Love On Her Arms.
I think that man is amazing & i spoke to him on the phone tonight :
It was a rather quite chat, he asked how i was, said he wished i could be there & i explained why i wasn't, he asked where i was from, well he asked if i stayed in Glasgow, then he said we should hang out sometime cause he said it would be awesome & then he had to go :(
But just WOW man, i was shaking like mad & i could'nt believe it.
Thanks to Brionny for making it all happen, i love her :)

TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS by Jamie Tworkowski

Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."

I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.

Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.

She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.

The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.

She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.

I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.

Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.

She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.

On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.

Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.

After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.

She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.

As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."

I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.

We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.

I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.

Simply beautiful, i'm sure you'll agree.

Rescue is possible.