i just want to be free
i just want to surf.
i just want to surf all the time.
i just want to be good at surfing.
i just want to tear up a wave.
i just want to live in the ocean.
i just want to go surfing.
i don’t want to take an exam.
i don’t want to go to america.
i just want to stay in costa rica.
i just want to surf.
His jet black hair stands out against the pale, dusk sky and his deep chocolate brown eyes pierce the horizon. Only a few minutes now, he thinks to himself. He scratches the dark stubble on his chin, proof of his own laziness and lack of time. Cory is taller than the average guy, but he is not lanky. His build is strong and solid, his hands steady and his fingers calloused. The heart inside Cory’s chest pounds with anxious anticipation and excitement. The crowd is already filing in, filling the aisles, the front, the back, every square inch of the tiny building. It will be hot, he thinks to himself, as he pulls on his dark denim jeans, the ones with the worn pockets. He buckles his black studded belt and ties his red Vans. Looking in the mirror, he sighs and reaches for his black button up shirt, remaining calm. It is almost time to play; the other band members file in. Cory’s assistant hands him his prize possession. He smiles lovingly at the beautiful, black-and not to mention-expensive, Gibson electric guitar.
The stage is set, and as lights flash, the group runs over a few last minute details. The band is talented and popular, but everyone comes to see Cory. When he plays, his hand becomes one with the guitar. Sounds one could never imagine are produced from his swift fingers stretching and reaching to unimaginable lengths. The crowd roars wildly. The venue is a loud mixture of anticipated whispers, girls screaming, and amps and mics warming up for the show. People are packed like sardines, but they don’t care. They know Cory and his band are about to take the stage.
The lights drop. The band makes eye contact with each other. The lead singer nods his head, and the drum beat begins. It echoes in the suddenly silent place. Each instrument immediately comes to life as sound fills the stage and grows louder and louder. Cory hears his cue. His fingers rip into the guitar, racing up and down the frets. His face so close to the guitar he can feel the sound vibrations. The right hand picks and strums, lovingly teasing each string to find its sound. His left hand slides back and forth, searching the face of the guitar as he chooses where to place his fingers. The crowd stands in awe as he steps forward to begin his intense guitar solo.
It is a rush of sounds. His thoughts are gone; instincts take over. He has become a part of the music, one leaped with his black guitar. The crowd could be somewhere far away and he would not even notice. Oblivious to the crowd, he only notices the guitar.
I have a question. When did I claim to be perfect? At what point did I say yes I know everything and I am perfect?
Fuck I’m the biggest shit show there is. I screw up. I think dirty thoughts. I play with people’s emotions. I make bad decisions. I am completely and totally the opposite of perfect.
At what point did you decide I was. Why is every person anticipating my fall? It’s like you’re just waiting for me to screw up. You live for my mistakes. And when I mess up you talk of how I’ve changed and how I’m not like I used to be.
Heres some news for you. I’ve always fucking been like this.
Yeah deep down to my core I’m full of deep dark sin. It lives in me. I cave to the desires of my flesh. I burn and lust for the same things you do.
I love being bad. It just feels so good.
You know what. You do too. Everyone does. Every fucking one does.
For this reason I am beyond lucky. I’m forever in debt. To someone who said yeah you’re a shit show and you know what, you’re gonna have to pay for that. Yep you owe a lot for all your wrongs. You’ll never be perfect. You’re always gonna feel like this. So pay up. Put the money on the table.
Man I don’t have the money. I don’t have the ability to change. I will always want what feels good. I will always be fucked up. I can’t change this.
And you know what he said?
And I love you too much to make you pay. I’ll pay for you. Someone else’s blood will be shed for your shit show.
Why? Why did he pay for me? I don’t deserve that and I never will.
But I took a huge step. And I accepted his gift. I acknowledge that I’m messed up, and I acknowledge that he paid for me.
And I’m gonna strive with every fiber in my being to live for him and to be changed by him. But I need HIS help, because I like my flesh. But I know at the end of the day he is more worth it than anything my flesh offers. dude my flesh is soo deceiving and conniving. And it knows my weak points and when to assault.
But to everyone who thinks that a “religious” person should be perfect and better and MORE GOOD. … well….
FUCK THAT SHIT.
I am not perfect and I’ll never claim to be. It is by HIS GRACE I have been saved. Through FAITH and not BY WORKS or BEING PERFECT, for this reason no man can brag that he saved himself by being good. If you want to see perfect, I’ll point you to my God.
I’m sorry to shatter your world. I’m sorry to break the news that those people who say they’re Christians are gonna fail you and are gonna mess up. Yeah kids that’s life.
If we were perfect who would fucking need God?
I can’t even explain how amazing you are. Thinking back on the summer and days we shared, I will always know were some of the best times ever. You taught me I was beautiful. And you taught me things I never knew about me.
You taught me what a sincere and true guy looks like. And a crazy love that I never had known before.
I guess we can’t change time. And distance. And circumstance. We had the right love – at the wrong time.
i will always miss you.
If it comes undone, then tie up your loose ends.
when the colors run, then all of the shapes blend.
Oh, you know there’s still a ways to go, so don’t start retreating
No, you just gotta take it slow
When you’re lost and all out of breath just call and I’ll come running baby
then we’d never build a life worth living.
So let us restore each other.” —
an ever-growing wonder
we came as romans
my indecisive mind
always wanted to be a vet. hah
when a girl says she wants to be “just friends” she means either these two things:
1. i don’t want to date you. i really just want to treat you like i treat the girls i’m friends with and hang out with you. the end.
2. ( this is dangerous waters for you boys — the friendlationship) i like you, but i don’t want a serious relationship with you because i’m scared you’ll hurt me because of the kind of guy you are. therefore hang out with me and we’ll act like we’re something, but we won’t be because — i don’t really want to date you. sometimes she’ll let you kiss her. sometimes you’ll start acting like your dating her. she’ll want you to take her to movies and go out to dinner. and it’ll be the best, most fun ever. but at the end of the day… deep down in her heart, she knows you’re not the right guy for her. she knows she doesn’t want to be with you. and then - she realizes what she’s done.
to all you guys with a number 2 girl. i apologize. i was her. idk why i just seriously couldn’t make up my mind about what i wanted. i played with fire and he lured me in with his charmingness.
but here’s what you need to do if you find yourself in a “just friends” situation and YOU KNOW you’re not “just friends”. get out. let go of her before you’re in too deep. hah oh and if you’re smart like my “friend” Victor, you’ll kiss another girl in front of her face to prove that you know you are “just friends”. wow what a lesson to be learned.
i think it’s time to swear off boys for a long time until i REALLY know what i want.
and girls. stop playing games.