Wednesday, February 24, 2021

sea glass + playlist +

 




I’ve been listening to these songs because they inspire me and make me feel hopeful. They’re great spring/summer melodies as well. 

+ an innocent warrior - moana soundtrack 

+ saturn - sleeping at last

+ crystals - of monsters and men 

+ bethany’s wave - marco beltrami 

+ avatar the last air bender lofi - cozy

+ reflection (2020) - christina aguilera 


Tuesday, February 23, 2021

searching for purpose

 Listen

 As of right now I am jobless, my landlord is selling the rental house I live in, I dropped out of “school”, and it has been about a month and three weeks since the death of my father. I used to write on this blog all the time, thinking of all the things I was going to do. Then I stopped writing. And I stopped dreaming too. I quickly lost my way. Became concerned only with being secure. Having enough money. Having a job that looked responsible. And I shoved everything I’ve ever wanted down, down, down into the corner of my heart. .


I gave everything I had to a certification program that I didn’t care about at all. While I was there, I felt so incredibly sad even when I did well and I always always felt out of place, not just socially but spiritually. As if God was telling me that this wasn’t what he intended for me. That experience really wore me down. Financially, I am 10,000 dollars in debt for a certificate I will never receive. I lost my job because of how demanding the program schedule was (26 hours a week + 2 hour drive a day + homework which I literally never did πŸ•ΊπŸ»). My only car is probably going to explode next time I get into it from all the stress that was put on it. Not to mention going without a couple meals a week for six months straight because I couldn’t work enough to pay for my bills, my gas, and my groceries. It was hellish. And amidst all of that I asked myself, why? Why are you here? What here is worth these circumstances to you? And my answers were money and so people think I’m successful and not much. So, after a lot of debating, calling my mom, and talking to God, I quit. 

I quit. Growing up, I never quit anything. If I did I’d thoroughly chastise myself and swear on my life I’d never fail again (or something else excessively dramatic along those lines). I had an obsession with appearing perfect which has apparently followed me into my 20s. But this time, I quit. And I loved the feeling. I felt quite literally like a bird that had escaped its cage of six months. I could’ve screamed with joy. 

Some people will see my quitting as a failure. My mind tells me this sometimes too. But those who believe in a life of passion and of God’s purpose will see my quitting as the beginning. That’s what my soul tells me every morning when I wake up now. I feel a little like I used to, as a kid. Remember waking up and being excited for the day? It’s a simple but amazing feeling. While I was in that program, I would wake up and ask God to strike me down with lightening so I wouldn’t have to heave myself out of bed and live another day. Now, I still have worries but my first feeling is freedom. And it reminds me that I have made the right choice.

Now, I’m Here. Here, kinda feels like a little island in the middle the sea. I could dive into the water and swim in any direction. Anything could happen. I could stay Here for a while and look for a sign, like a shooting star. I’m not really sure yet. There isn’t a map for this sort of thing. God only gives His wisdom, and He gives you talents and passions and desires. So I think I should first, learn to listen. 

Within only a few weeks of listening, I’ve learned something. Life on its own is not pure. If you want happiness and peace, then you must fight for those things. A life left to chance and circumstance is a dark and terrible one. But a life lead with purpose and intention is a wonderful one. It’s like a sailboat. If you send it out to sea, but do not take the sails into your hands and steer, will you end up on the shores of paradise? No. You’ll end up lost, or torn apart, or drowned. But if you stand strong and pull the sails and guide your boat with intention, there is nothing stopping you from reaching that place.

 “If you look for the light, you can often find it. But if you look for the dark, that is all you’ll ever see.” 

I’ve been learning that my circumstances don’t control me, I control my circumstances. Yes, they challenge me. Very much (very very very very very very very very much).  But God reminds me, that I can do all things through Him who gives me strength + Philippians 4:13 +

So, I might be Here for a while. But at least I’m not There, living the life of a girl I don’t recognize. Who knows what will come from the future and all the unknown? 


Wednesday, February 17, 2021

metamorphosis

 

"To ensure good health: eat lightly, breathe deeply, live moderately, cultivate cheerfulness, and maintain an interest in life.”
-William Londen


 I used to care about my health a lot. I found a lot of joy in healthy eating. Not fancy, stylish healthy eating. I'm not really a foodie. I prefer to eat quick simple stuff and I hate fussing over food. 


But eating healthy for the sake of fueling your body is something I really miss. There seem to be two types of people, those that care about eating healthful foods and those that don't care at all about what they put in their bodies. But I think there's a third type. Those that care about what they eat but never put in the time or energy to reach that goal of better living. Also known as lazy people. That's me. (remember my last post about this same topic? me either. Because it was two years ago and I did nothing to change my eating.)


(avocado rice things from tropically lina)

I've been finding inspiration for wholesome veggie-centric meals on pinterest, Bethany Hamilton's website, and food shows like raw. vegan. not gross. 


This is a grocery list sample I found from Brittany Dawn. It's given me a lot of ideas for my own. I might add some vegan mayonnaise in there but that's just me. 

(see those eggs? ugh, me too.)

Because I despise cooking so much, I think I'm more of a meal prepper. Cooking a lot two days of the week and not having to cook at all the rest of them sounds really nice to me. I think one of my biggest issues with healthy eating is not being disciplined enough. Thinking, "oh, I don't really want to cook. I'll just buy something instead". The amount of money I've wasted would k i l l  me if I saw it. I would die of shock. Collapse from a financially induced seizure. Caring about what you eat saves money as well as your life wow. 

I'm excited to be interested in healthy eating again after so much time (I just have to mention that I'm writing this post minutes after eating an entire pizza and half a bag of pickle chips (: ). With all the recent changes in my life, it seems only fitting to reestablish that what I eat is important to me. So, let's chop up some vegetables. 


Monday, February 15, 2021

before I go mad

🌊






"What do they want?" I ask. My breath catches in my throat as a small group of pirates passes our hiding place.

"That's easy," says the Dr. He wraps Aurora's hand with a strip of cloth. Already, the make-shift bandage is dark with blood. "They're after Florin's Fan." He finishes.

"But that's a myth," says Aurora. She shakes her head, blonde hair in a tangled mess. The Dr. smiles lightly.

"Yes, girl. It's a myth. But like all good stories, it's based on a truth." The fire from the torches embedded in the sand reflects in his eyes. The way the shadows twist his face makes him look almost frightening "The fan was never owned by Florin. It never passed through twelve bombings unscathed. All it is is an ordinary map concealed in a lady's accessory. But it is real."

Before I realize it, my hand jumps to where my dress pocket should be. I can almost feel the heavy fan bobbing against my side as it did the night before. But I'm in trousers now. My heart begins to race. On the ship. My dress is on The Augusto. I'm about to tell Aurora to stay put when the clicking of a gun being cocked sounds behind us. A sand-smeared pirate with a crimson scarf tied around his face holds a pistol to Dr. Charelyn's head.

"Drop your sword." He says and my heart skips a beat. I'd know those eyes anywhere.

"Father!" Aurora gasps. The pirate tugs his bandanna off, releasing puffs of sand, and tries to smile reassuringly at his daughter. But I can see his hand shaking slightly as he repeats his threat to the Dr. "I said drop your sword, man!"

Aurora runs into his arms and gently lowers his gun,

"He helped us escape, father." Everly eyes the Dr. for a moment before nodding curtly. He then takes Aurora's face in his hands, soaking her in as if he'll never see her again.

I realize this is my time to exit. The Augusto sways menacingly on the water like a giant, abandoned tortoiseshell. As I crawl away, I turn in time to see Everly on his knees embracing Aurora. "Goodbye," I whisper and slide-crawl to the next cluster of bushes.

The sand is warm and itchy. I watch from my position behind the trunk of a palm tree, weighing my options. Except for a few drunken stragglers, most of the pirates are further up the shore. I can hear their rallying calls and anger-driven shouts. I spot a small rowboat that bobs by the shore but it's too near to the group. I'm considering swimming for it when I spot an oar only a few yards ahead of me. It's better than nothing.

The water is colder than I'd expected. I inhale sharply as it splashes me in the face. Now that I'm in the water, the ship looks even more terrible. The nearer I swim the further the boat seems to be but my desire never to set foot in it again is so strong I don't really care.

By the time I reach the belly of the ship, I'm fatigued. I dog-paddle to the chain of the anchor and find I can barely pull myself up. I stop to catch my breath. Why am I doing this? Sure, I'd like it if the pirates were defeated, but I wouldn't put myself in danger for that. I would've reported the fan’s whereabouts to someone else. And then it hits me. Everly and Aurora. They've dug a place into my heart. In spite of all the ways I tried to shield it. It feels strange to be doing something for someone I love again. I can’t tell whether or not Elijah was ever truly dear to me. But it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s chosen his place and I’ve chosen mine. Hanging off the belly of a ship.

I manage to claw my way into a window, barely avoiding falling back into the water. The ship is completely silent. A few lanterns sway with the water, warping shadows. I scan the room, crouched beneath the stream of moonlight that’s flowing from the window. Nothing but a few barrels of gunpowder and crates of hardtack and rope. Still, I shuffle as quietly as I can to the door, praying the call to join the riot has coaxed every last pirate off.

On the other side of the deck, I can see the shed of a room where Aurora and I were put and my heart speeds up. The fan is in there. I have to slow myself down, as it’s hard to believe I’m the only one who knows about it. Despite how careful I’m being, the slippery boards groan beneath my feet.

I reach the room feeling more unnerved that I haven’t seen a sailor yet. Everything is just as we left it. The cot where I lay is still unmade, Aurora’s ribbon strewn across the covers. I spot the midnight blue folds of my dress, crumpled in the corner between a barrel and the wall. I’m there in a flash, tearing through the fabric, shaking it, ripping seams. My breath catches in my throat when I hear a thud. The ship gives an unexpected shift and Florin’s Fan slides harmlessly to my knees.

Gingerly, I spread it open. The blue silk seems to shimmer in the moonlight. I touch the painted images lightly, as I would handling a butterfly. A smile is just spreading across my lips when I study the pictures more closely. First, there is a dead, leafless tree sitting half in sand and half in water. A crescent moon shines down on it, illuminating a gaping opening in its front. Next is an image of a naked man stepping into the trunk. He stares at the walls of his wooden cage and suddenly changes. His eyes roll back into his head and his body hunches. His hands form crooked claws and his tongue lolls out of his teeth.

I throw the fan from me, prickles running up my arms. It has unsettled me so much I don’t hear the creak of the floorboards behind me.

“Halt.”

The voice doesn’t make me jump. Instead, it turns my insides to ice that feels as though any move could shatter me into a thousand pieces. I force myself to pick up the fan and turn to face him. His velvet blue eyes have lost none of their lusters. They widen at the sight of my face. I feel myself shaking and inexplicably warm. Elijah lowers his pistol but does not move. A breeze from the sea whispers through the window, picking up his black hair.

“Let me go, Elijah,” I say and I take a step towards the small window. “You must let me go.” I realize I care more about whether or not the pirates get what they want than I thought. I’d rather see the treasure rust beneath the ocean than fall into Havelock’s hands. He’s the one who changed Elijah from the wonderful, warm man I knew.

Elijah lowers his head. But I’m ready to jump if need be. I glance again at the window, gripping the fan so tight my knuckles blanch.

“Oh Clare,” Elijah’s looking into my eyes now, such pain radiating from them I start to shiver. “Can you f-”

The sound of a cannonball ripping through the ship is so loud, it hurts my teeth. The last thing I see is Elijah’s hand stretched out to me, an unholy cloud of fire bursting around him, swallowing him up.

The sky is on fire. I’m flying, unscathed. The blistering heat cannot touch me. I reach my hand up as if to touch the flames that bloom like flowers and realize I’m not in the sky but in the water. Tiny bubbles tickle my face and play with my hair. Debris from The Augusto makes the water shiver around me. Slowly, my ears begin to ring, louder and louder until I can barely stand it. I’m swimming now, hard. I have to get away because everything around me screams danger. I know Elijah is swimming too. He’ll be with me when I make it to the beach.

I crash from the water and drag myself onto the sand. I’m so, so heavy. The ringing has not stopped and I find I cannot focus my eyes. I retch and gag, expelling warm water from within me until I collapse. Painful thumping sounds all around me and I see the feet of sailors running to the aid of what is already lost. With my first breath of air, everything comes back to me.

I saw Elijah. I found the fan. I saw Elijah. I read the fan. I saw Elijah.

I reach out, expecting to find him sprawled on the beach next to me. Instead, I grab a fistful of sand. This is enough to clear my head. It takes enormous effort to turn around but I do.

There is no ship. There is no fan. There is no Elijah.

I don’t feel anything. A wave of numbness envelopes me and I indulge it. Because feeling would hurt too much. Instead of screaming his name I fall back and stare at the sky. The stars have come out and are staring down at me like children with wide, unknowing eyes. Vaguely, in the recesses of my mind, I hear my name being shouted. Again and again.

Horses have begun tearing at the sand around me. No one seems to notice me as I lay there, silently crying. At least I think I’m crying, I can’t tell. I hear my name again.

“Clare!”

Perhaps if I lie here long enough, the tide will take me away.

“Clare! Where are you?” My eyes shoot open. I lift my head and search the hell that’s spread before me for Everly’s voice. Men scramble over each other to flee into the woods. Already, bodies litter the sand, tainting the foam waves red. General Seeley rides on his silvery horse, slashing with his sword like a madman.

“Clare!” Everly is running toward me, shoving people out of the way. Aurora stands half concealed by the trees with the Doctor.

“I’m here!” I try to yell by my voice is nothing but a wheeze. I suddenly notice that my throat is on fire. I must have screamed a lot when the ship erupted. I start to tug myself along the beach, just managing to duck my head when a soldier leaps over me. I’m halfway there when every strand of hair I have sears in pain. For a moment I think my head has caught on fire but then I’m lifted from the sand and I see Captain Havelock standing over me.

“You brought them here!” He shouts, bloody spit flying from his mouth. He shakes me and I feel a clump hair come loose in his fist. “You brought them here to kill us, you mewling harpy! I’ll kill you! I’ll-” He stops, but does not release me. His bloodshot eyes glaze over as he looks up. I take this moment of distraction to kick him in the gut. He releases me and I frantically push away.

“You!” He says, pointing at Everly who now aims a gun at the Captain. “It’s y-” The bullet drives through his chest and out his back and he collapses, gasping. A bright red stain blooms across his chest.

I stumble into Everly’s arms.

“Where did you go? I was looking for you everywhere!” He says, petting my shaking head. I look up, confused.

“For me?” I ask. He nods.

“We’re a family,” he says, holding my face. I don’t have time to react before he takes my arm and leads me into the trees. Dr. Charelyn checks my pulse and looks me in the eyes.

“She’ll be fine. Mild concussion.” He says. “Lucky measle.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“General blew up the ship,” he answers, leading us into the trees. Aurora wraps her arms around me and I hold her too.

“I thought you died!” She says. I feel her tears on my neck.

“You heard Dr. Charelyn. I’m one lucky measle.” we laugh wetly and when I stand Aurora keeps hold of my hand.

Through the trees, I can see the General driving the pirates further up the shore, Captain Havelock unmoving in the water.

“The Captain,” I say to Everly, “he knew you.” His jaw clenches. “How?” I press. He seems to be avoiding my eyes. Sensing the tension, the Dr. draws his sword and volunteers to keep watch, crouching in the bushes a few feet away.

“Yes.” Says Everly, “I knew him. But he did not know me.” He picks up a branch and twists his bandana around it. “He thought I was my father.”

“Grandpa Roeland?” asks Aurora, her nose scrunching. Everly shakes his head and pours the contents of a bottle over the newly made torch.

“No, darling. Declan Everly. He was a pirate hunter.” He disappears for a moment, leaving Aurora and me shivering in the wind, and returns, the torch on fire. “My father was very skilled at what he did.” The light sharpens the edges of his face. “He caught the ship Havelock was first mate on years ago. The Vespertine, I think it was.”

I didn’t have time to wonder before, but now it springs to my mind. I finish his thought for him,

“And on it, he found something very, very valuable.”

“Florin’s Fan, yes.” He says, sighing. “My father left it to me, but after his death, I could never find it. I finally concluded that he’d hidden it in greed, which was very likely.”

Suddenly, I’m remembering that very early morning. The General smashing his fist against the door. Everly’s exasperated yells.

“The General,” I say, “He wanted you to give it to him?” Everly smiles, halfheartedly.

“He and every other soul. I don’t know how he found out I had it, but after that, he wouldn’t leave me alone. Day and night he’d approach me, drooling for it.”

“Why?” I say, my throat beginning to contract at the memory of the insane man in the tree, “Who would sacrifice their sanity for gold?” The moment I say it, Everly’s hand is clasped over my mouth. I yell from shock but it’s muffled.

“No one.” He whispers, shaking my shoulders, “No one, can ever know you read the map.” I nod, too shaken to answer. “How? How did you find it!” He demands.

“I-it was in my dress pocket!” I blurt out, “I left it on the ship and I went back to get it!” My mind suddenly latches onto the memory of blinding light encasing Elijah's body. I want to claw it out, be rid of it. It plays again and again on vicious replay and now I know I will never be able to forget. Everly releases me without a word and takes the torch to an opening in the foliage, waving it left and right. A signal. Before long, two boats carrying a patchwork of men arrive.

"Come on. Get in." Everly ushers Aurora and me down the bank. Another canon blast howls, ripping the air in half. Aurora covers her ears. Dr. Charelyn offers his hand and I take it but he doesn't lead me to the boat. His grip suddenly tightens, crushing my shaking fingers. "Ouch!" I try to break free but he only holds tighter. "Let go of me!"

"Congratulations." He says, "You've just become the most valuable girl in the Atlantic."

It takes a moment for Everly to react and in that hesitation, the Dr. is already holding a gun to Aurora’s temple. The two men stand there, staring each other down, nothing but the boats beneath us move.

“Release her,” Everly says through gritted teeth. The Dr. laughs.

“Not gonna happen. Either you let me sail out of this bay, unharmed or you get to see what your daughter’s brains look like.” Aurora whimpers and I feel myself shaking. Everly opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off.

“No, Nathaniel,” My moment of happiness was short-lived. “I will go.” He tries to object, “No! It is my choice. Get back home.” I wrench my hand from the Dr.’s and turn to the second boat.

“Clare!” Aurora cries. I’m in real danger of crying now, about Elijah, about my family, and my fate. I feel my ribs shake and my heartache but I hold it in and turn to face them one last time. “Don’t follow me, do you understand?” I say to Everly. He nods slightly and that’s what scares me most. He won’t do nothing at all. “You can’t. They’ll kill you and Aurora will have no one.” I pray that is enough for him. He simply stares at me.

The Dr. keeps his pistol poised on them as another man ties my wrists behind my back. As soon as he’s done I walk to the other side of the boat, as far away from them as possible.

“Well?” the Dr. says, “Say goodbye to your family, girl. You’ll probably never see them again. Or if you do, you’ll be so deranged you won’t know it.”

I lock eyes with Charelyn but do not give him the satisfaction of breaking me down. If I’m to be their puppet, so be it, but I will not lose myself to it. Everly and Aurora stand there, still as statues, the wind blowing their hair. A fire has broken out in the woods behind them, burning their silhouettes into my eyes so that even when I close them, they’re there, side by side with Elijah.

“Let’s get out of here, Cyprian.” Charelyn tosses an oar or the other man and slowly, we sail away.

“I’ll miss you,” I say, quieter than a whisper, and turn away from them. Try to forget them. Because I now know, that I have only a little time before I go mad.

🌊