tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292491367953395822024-03-07T15:37:46.773+11:00Under the sky...some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.comBlogger138125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-33624598423156277102014-01-27T11:54:00.001+11:002014-01-27T12:13:44.918+11:00Treason-<br />
Is it treason<br />
<br />
To mistrust<br />
To question and challenge<br />
To be filled with disgust<br />
<br />
Is it treason<br />
<br />
Is it right<br />
<br />
To not belong<br />
To not chant and cheer<br />
To suggest that you've got it wrong<br />
<br />
Is it right<br />
<br />
Is it self-righteous<br />
<br />
To exclaim<br />
To point out the injustice<br />
To point a finger in blame<br />
<br />
Is it self-righteous<br />
<br />
Is it futile<br />
<br />
To love<br />
To care and to change<br />
To look for help from above<br />
<br />
Is it futile<br />
<br />
Is it treason<br />
<br />
To write a letter<br />
To mourn for this nation<br />
To believe we could do better<br />
<br />
Is it treason?<br />
-some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-62073014841214732842012-10-05T15:41:00.004+10:002012-10-05T15:41:31.853+10:00New Blog<a href="http://finding-lost-things.blogspot.com.au/">http://finding-lost-things.blogspot.com.au/</a><br />
<br />
I have moved. Just because.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-9876567130172429952012-05-10T22:15:00.001+10:002012-06-20T15:56:07.330+10:00All At OncePut it down in one thought<br />
Put it down on one letter<br />
Get it out in one song<br />
If you can<br />
<br />
All of it all at once<br />
Yearning longing pain frustration<br />
Where do we go from here?<br />
Where do I go from here?<br />
<br />
Is this always what you'd wanted?<br />
Is this all you'd ever hoped I would be?<br />
Because when I look in the mirror<br />
I'm not so sure that I like what I see<br />
I'm afraid that person is me<br />
<br />
Did you do all you could?<br />
Did you fight for it after all?<br />
Did you recover all that was taken<br />
And give back what you stole?<br />
Did you do right by me?<br />
Is it really that troubling?<br />
<br />
Because I'd like to have a crack at it some day<br />
And I'd like to think I'll do okay<br />
But you've left me with these stumbling blocks<br />
These hurdles and hoops<br />
Keep me in circles and loops.<br />
And I'm trying<br />
To get through it all<br />
Trying<br />
To believe that I'll never fall<br />
That I'll never make the wrongs you did<br />
But I have to believe that there's something at the end<br />
That makes it all okay<br />
Something to comfort me at the end of the longest day.<br />
And I know it<br />
And I know Him<br />
But I also know the aching<br />
And I wish he'd take it away.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-88153217420829072302012-04-07T23:45:00.001+10:002012-04-08T11:43:28.314+10:00Yearning<div><p>I can't decide whether I <br />want<br />need<br />And I wonder if the decision<br />is really up to me<br />Or if what I long for<br />is also what I breathe<br /><br />Whether it's<br />you<br />not<br />If I'm too stubborn or scared<br />to take even a well-aimed shot<br />To let you take part<br />in the how/where/why/what<br /><br />What is my reply to the<br />heartbeat<br />heartburn<br />To jump into the lesson<br />and to finally then learn<br />Or pass it by altogether<br />and for always, still yearn?<br /></p></div>some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-64413610896032223712012-03-28T00:12:00.004+11:002012-03-28T00:16:47.413+11:00Hello,Sometimes I feel silly writing blog posts... Where's the point in it? Even the word, 'blog'... definitely does NOT make the favourites list...<br /><br />But I'm a bit way-too-happy to not ramble right now.<br /><br />Anyway.<br /><br />:)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />;)some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-913724724011184832012-03-19T21:24:00.003+11:002012-03-19T21:37:35.913+11:00Instagram Top 10 - Cambodia<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiXvSbVzYBGgM6he1tP7ASfj2-beH8paTfhab5jblqL_oYWJO-JXWVV8ZnrqnuUJC7xMJOy2y8CU1RCechSrn3k6vGGwiCRge_msySoSLVWv8Pwn2EHztpu3suXSQm_wvLAOA3LRuAqwEI/s1600/c12.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiXvSbVzYBGgM6he1tP7ASfj2-beH8paTfhab5jblqL_oYWJO-JXWVV8ZnrqnuUJC7xMJOy2y8CU1RCechSrn3k6vGGwiCRge_msySoSLVWv8Pwn2EHztpu3suXSQm_wvLAOA3LRuAqwEI/s200/c12.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555276293922050" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik1Qp3G7OoEh6D3WDI1F59p2fPabCyNzh438owh2Be4gsHYbgfTXxfvyxEmYhfsYSxuu5GFv4xFuSWeefUFu0031ajp1q00SDsJAmek58eMCIstDCr0oCKighCWuhF282Rq95sluMiZ_ZR/s1600/c1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik1Qp3G7OoEh6D3WDI1F59p2fPabCyNzh438owh2Be4gsHYbgfTXxfvyxEmYhfsYSxuu5GFv4xFuSWeefUFu0031ajp1q00SDsJAmek58eMCIstDCr0oCKighCWuhF282Rq95sluMiZ_ZR/s200/c1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555272007626498" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknq71y_v0HrrxmC_gPyeSMVyLFQjPu2wSHDbsI42WYWB9ZhJ77G6TI-hhLp_AELDCBDjwWBnKh6axI8fGQw3lJM3nMs7KnljyrE8tDl1QEez3tnyTDus3judXilv0O38ZMiUFnMTsLda0/s1600/c2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknq71y_v0HrrxmC_gPyeSMVyLFQjPu2wSHDbsI42WYWB9ZhJ77G6TI-hhLp_AELDCBDjwWBnKh6axI8fGQw3lJM3nMs7KnljyrE8tDl1QEez3tnyTDus3judXilv0O38ZMiUFnMTsLda0/s200/c2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555261524196418" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgx62B0SLKVlUl1jSTlTPaKIgkRt96aCipPkAI3Cz2yDzxcOUfhuMmNwIOrzFFe5rUPZ51N8afRKPm05KVvvFd3N_fwpO8XR_NuMYYckma-JNoaq39ONym1TlJUMc6tdJzodQ1kvGQVwSs/s1600/c4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgx62B0SLKVlUl1jSTlTPaKIgkRt96aCipPkAI3Cz2yDzxcOUfhuMmNwIOrzFFe5rUPZ51N8afRKPm05KVvvFd3N_fwpO8XR_NuMYYckma-JNoaq39ONym1TlJUMc6tdJzodQ1kvGQVwSs/s200/c4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555261911616098" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJUcTn89L7ah5WqXekCGEMLNlX2J5OFznTXqjfVbIFphMl3imK6oM9mvmnh4WX4Q_H9QfYPVaum5bsgsjjAToY3-nDa482zIrDX97PZirZGT8JUPhwGTa6NhYUURbDhUBOLWIIrcjb-zF3/s1600/c6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJUcTn89L7ah5WqXekCGEMLNlX2J5OFznTXqjfVbIFphMl3imK6oM9mvmnh4WX4Q_H9QfYPVaum5bsgsjjAToY3-nDa482zIrDX97PZirZGT8JUPhwGTa6NhYUURbDhUBOLWIIrcjb-zF3/s200/c6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555259926174530" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhGzTbdg5lkmGgxSJHl2PTeaUh5VzrZsDKuUl0xe_F_-caG_Myrb60ot1B5U5OJAeRGdmly-EnWhQSyVdI8lYlQKISomXEqsrESSY24WQAWxLEm4v01hSaxVuEW2LpV8Uoc0zuEbude4FR/s1600/c3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhGzTbdg5lkmGgxSJHl2PTeaUh5VzrZsDKuUl0xe_F_-caG_Myrb60ot1B5U5OJAeRGdmly-EnWhQSyVdI8lYlQKISomXEqsrESSY24WQAWxLEm4v01hSaxVuEW2LpV8Uoc0zuEbude4FR/s200/c3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555021887386306" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgil7HTsrYTsc5NK12FyxanU4WhDhqjWu_Tn8GFt8zHrCqv_D4besOhK4_M2nlzjiZRes_PHK2b-gH18A976j36JkK4ElE_Pcy1x6InMA9G3uO0b7u9hyikuCiqTP37ZkkPGJObX75jDNrd/s1600/c7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgil7HTsrYTsc5NK12FyxanU4WhDhqjWu_Tn8GFt8zHrCqv_D4besOhK4_M2nlzjiZRes_PHK2b-gH18A976j36JkK4ElE_Pcy1x6InMA9G3uO0b7u9hyikuCiqTP37ZkkPGJObX75jDNrd/s200/c7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555018928304130" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0z79dCND2p6rF8spvV8tF9yl0s7pieApvDEM-fv9geyr87c2XOzrYFCxptg6lBwN45_tNi21c7U2qLebBEap6ei8866EU3ulRu3X2VnsX3dfBa2wIs9eFNrhsMf_6XpqwvunTB5mjxTn1/s1600/c11.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0z79dCND2p6rF8spvV8tF9yl0s7pieApvDEM-fv9geyr87c2XOzrYFCxptg6lBwN45_tNi21c7U2qLebBEap6ei8866EU3ulRu3X2VnsX3dfBa2wIs9eFNrhsMf_6XpqwvunTB5mjxTn1/s200/c11.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555016803840242" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpe_HM6lvF77kDFwzr0Qd8ZfqA7Z8a7QRby9DWVz4C0j39uuGLIP8bo0HDjAxVJw9F2It7O9lqmdWYaUeRYNNw_8FWWdjN6a5RNmQ4jctV0oA7D-0v1PL4ICsQyTeXXRV01GriWoR8YWE/s1600/c10.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpe_HM6lvF77kDFwzr0Qd8ZfqA7Z8a7QRby9DWVz4C0j39uuGLIP8bo0HDjAxVJw9F2It7O9lqmdWYaUeRYNNw_8FWWdjN6a5RNmQ4jctV0oA7D-0v1PL4ICsQyTeXXRV01GriWoR8YWE/s200/c10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555012560938594" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghdRax5WiJWY3_NrzRVCLRK4EGoa4od3cagmJzlkpEHHdDy8Tg3emQehy6mTovRZjxH9bcpPIZ3PBK3qvttDNbjChTAjRl5nz5wcPbCMLMDpHEMz0_sestRYoETkeULq6F4YURYxEZVYd/s1600/c9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghdRax5WiJWY3_NrzRVCLRK4EGoa4od3cagmJzlkpEHHdDy8Tg3emQehy6mTovRZjxH9bcpPIZ3PBK3qvttDNbjChTAjRl5nz5wcPbCMLMDpHEMz0_sestRYoETkeULq6F4YURYxEZVYd/s200/c9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721555010364354162" /></a>some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-89727483982285474092012-03-18T00:21:00.009+11:002012-03-19T21:23:20.964+11:00'Teenage Dream'This was the maid of honour's 'speech' at my brother's wedding. It was actually a song that turned into a whole bridesmaid fiesta! To the tune of Katy Perry's <span style="font-style:italic;">Teenage Dream.</span><br /><br />[V1]<br />They met at church when he just hit puberty<br />And she was wearing her little red beanie<br />This is the start of their epic love story<br />OooOOooh!<br />He tried to win her playing the best friend card<br />But it was harder than rapping to <span style="font-style:italic;">8 Mile</span><br />She wasn't ready for your bushman charms—or the farm!<br /><br />[Pre-Chorus1]<br />Oh poor Josh—took her 7 years<br />To see you were the tops!<br />What's the deal with chicks these days? I dunno.<br />Just blame Paula & Craig!<br /><br />[Ch 1]<br />Cecily<br />Was Josh's one and only<br />Teenage dream<br />One time he drank too much and licked her feet<br />That's what you do when you're young and in love, you're young and in love.<br /><br />His heart broke<br />When she told him that he wasn't her bloke<br />She wouldn't even send a Facebook poke<br />But he kept tryin' and that's no joke no that's no joke<br /><br />[V2]<br />And so one day while watching a DVD<br />She turned to him & said 'I've been real douchey,<br />'I couldn't see that you were the one for me.'<br />OoohOOOhoooh!<br />Now take my hand and we'll be camping buddies<br />We'll storm the farm and shoot every living thing<br />You be my prince and I'll be Princecily<br />OooohOOOhoooh!<br /><br />[PC2]<br />They'll go all the way tonight "quad-biking"<br />– that's love!<br />Hope you've got protection on, "quad-biking"<br />Can be pretty rough!<br /><div>[CH2]<br />Josh & Cec</div><div>You've gone and got yourselves good and hitched</div><div>Who would have thought that it come to this?</div><div>Now run away and don't ever look back</div><div>Don't ever look back<br /><br />Your lives start<br />Now that you've said 'til death do us part<br />It's two best friends who have one heart<br />You took the leap now don't ever look back</div><div>Don't ever look back</div><div><br /></div><div>[B]</div><div>He's gonna get your heart racing</div><div>When he wears that ring</div><div>He's your teenage dream tonight</div><div><br /></div><div>She's gonna get your heart racing</div><div>She's your yang to your ying</div><div>She's your teenage dream tonight (tonight, tonight...)</div><div>—</div><div><br /></div><div>Ahhh, much laughter.</div>some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-85535367305721169682012-03-13T18:36:00.000+11:002012-03-13T18:37:29.303+11:00"Let meeeeeeeee entertain you!"<br />is what I sang to a notion this one time, before it betrayed me.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-35481668053506577282012-03-12T22:43:00.002+11:002012-03-12T22:55:57.619+11:00Instagram Top 5 - Esther<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yjjJeCkC95LinhxVgGOLaWLkJrTOHMmhjNly7D-3mVvJGzhRUXbSfpCd-nb4dEORGKz76FXWcyIHVfyeMJYavs3hh6lyUKn-XRENLi3utNUV4ja4VlqHcrKFL5r98XkETYQhQs2eTVb0/s1600/297538_10150269368240168_680345167_8076124_2316234_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yjjJeCkC95LinhxVgGOLaWLkJrTOHMmhjNly7D-3mVvJGzhRUXbSfpCd-nb4dEORGKz76FXWcyIHVfyeMJYavs3hh6lyUKn-XRENLi3utNUV4ja4VlqHcrKFL5r98XkETYQhQs2eTVb0/s200/297538_10150269368240168_680345167_8076124_2316234_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718977910569425842" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqvlLRa9paxOKB_b0Uv8QN9gQiy89EW9JmCjJ5D6NaHaXi8TYCYEqQslztnitZQG8wy3cV7f_PogGMx_92PJYXX1lBAEE4-y2qcA452ZIjUsXda81Rw-n9DZH5Ej55_2Yz33PDSb_fawU/s1600/2a539a426bcf11e180c9123138016265_7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqvlLRa9paxOKB_b0Uv8QN9gQiy89EW9JmCjJ5D6NaHaXi8TYCYEqQslztnitZQG8wy3cV7f_PogGMx_92PJYXX1lBAEE4-y2qcA452ZIjUsXda81Rw-n9DZH5Ej55_2Yz33PDSb_fawU/s200/2a539a426bcf11e180c9123138016265_7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718977901537515986" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjW2Lno7mVjhjaQTsLDMayeVvIvFS6K_GfPJ8xdad4z9I9d-siZlZJAb4fF_8kHTZQ5ohhvvhSWuRA0XVsZEzcNRlu0RLUOOlErgHXggZGgpatddF3zRv0ncbXUGHSqBRw8CwvzhcdtfY5/s1600/IMG_0046.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjW2Lno7mVjhjaQTsLDMayeVvIvFS6K_GfPJ8xdad4z9I9d-siZlZJAb4fF_8kHTZQ5ohhvvhSWuRA0XVsZEzcNRlu0RLUOOlErgHXggZGgpatddF3zRv0ncbXUGHSqBRw8CwvzhcdtfY5/s200/IMG_0046.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718977893716182946" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLPGF5M3bb7oqcbZdWSYftzMVuTZ2EXhD5QpCeFYnotNhQ-1PC2M9Rvq0OjG7R5mCJKitfKG5ph0o1eP-OankQya1Qx7fYK01PpvtNbJ3yWGxPK4nKOgOdCE6tmfUQ5NT_lTlmgfa8Q13O/s1600/IMG_0072.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLPGF5M3bb7oqcbZdWSYftzMVuTZ2EXhD5QpCeFYnotNhQ-1PC2M9Rvq0OjG7R5mCJKitfKG5ph0o1eP-OankQya1Qx7fYK01PpvtNbJ3yWGxPK4nKOgOdCE6tmfUQ5NT_lTlmgfa8Q13O/s200/IMG_0072.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718977893530616418" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sy-NvOrikrpbP-RsmEctnPlDKs-UisA7lpLYCY60dHVF98ue8fBZ617qJ644k7C2Wh8GYnX-pOAqbrW4-vYtws4Q0E0cR8TGCx1KIVlVxRCkCtJRbv6pny1G4Im46O8DNjAlh_OJGXE3/s1600/IMG_0123.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sy-NvOrikrpbP-RsmEctnPlDKs-UisA7lpLYCY60dHVF98ue8fBZ617qJ644k7C2Wh8GYnX-pOAqbrW4-vYtws4Q0E0cR8TGCx1KIVlVxRCkCtJRbv6pny1G4Im46O8DNjAlh_OJGXE3/s200/IMG_0123.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718977886252257570" /></a>some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-54125831900547173902012-03-12T21:38:00.002+11:002012-03-12T21:43:20.591+11:00Lower still.Almost can't help but laugh as I witness my entire life being stripped back.<br /><br />Last year it was my identity in my 'skills' and my study.<br />It was going overseas, out of my comfort zone and into completely new territory.<br /><br />And now I'm back, and my comfort zone is no longer what it was.<br /><br />I have no money.<br />I have no car.<br />I am soon to have no job, and no house.<br />In the space of one month, three of my very best friends have moved to far away, separate places.<br /><br />I laugh because through it all, I see God at work. I laugh because even though it may look and feel like I have nothing... I really have everything I'll ever need.<br /><br />And I'm excited to get to the end of this year and be able to give God all the glory, because, I sure as heck ain't gonna be able to do it by myself.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-21113523098064521742012-03-12T21:21:00.003+11:002012-03-12T21:36:43.630+11:00Let's not twist this up in feelings of abandonment.<br />Let's not push it as a need or a habit or another broken piece.<br />I'm not broken. I've been made whole.<br /><br />I'm just so crushingly sad, because I miss you, and I want you to come back.<br /><br />And as I sit here, wiping the tears away, it all starts to flood in.<br />How many more of the people that I love will leave me this year?<br />How many more people that I crave will unknowingly break off another part of my soul and take it with them when they leave?<br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8inJtTG_DuU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />This is the song I can not get out of my head,<br />And the feeling I can not get out of my heart.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-71399325236903608432012-03-05T19:06:00.004+11:002012-03-05T19:17:31.035+11:00Today is one of those days where my heart just aches a little.It feels like loss, though I've lost nothing.<br /><br />It feels like apathy, though I really do care.<br /><br />It feels like unbelief, though I do know Him.<br /><br />It feels like unworthiness, though I've been told otherwise more than ever.<br /><br /><br />I don't know why the contradiction, can't fathom why the motionlessness, can't answer why the melancholy.<br />The temptation to fall back is so strong today. It feels too strong for weak little me to fight.<br /><br />And this is why I want you.<br /><br />My strength should come from God. From His joy. His grace should refresh me, His mercy make me new each morning. Should. It should.<br />But today all I want is you. I need you. I need to know you. More importantly, today I need you to know me, I need you to remind me why, to bring me back from the brink, to turn the lights back on, to remind me that it is finished. But I don't know you, and I don't know who you are, and today, I don't know if I'll ever know you.<br /><br />And maybe that's the source of my little heart-that-just-wants-to-be-loved ache.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-71325410214293182932012-02-13T23:33:00.000+11:002012-02-14T07:50:42.208+11:00NothingI am nothing<br /><br />I am nothing. Nothing of the greatest kind.<br /><br />I am worth nothing, and yet I am worth everything.<br /><br />I can do nothing, and yet I can do something; I can do all things.<br /><br />Because the One who created everything gives life to my nothingness. Gives substance to my insignificance.<br /><br />I am nothing. He is everything. <br /><br />He is.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-30201796635360243922012-01-31T19:07:00.000+11:002012-01-31T19:08:02.545+11:00I think hearts are a bit like headphone cords... You don't mean to get them so tangled, you never set out to do that; but after you've finished using your headphones and you put them away; after you've finished using your heart, when you put it in your pocket and even take care to fold it nicely, that's when the trouble begins.<br /><br />The time comes along when you need to use your heart again, so you dig around and pull it out of your pocket, only to discover that it's a knotted, tangled mess—it's going to take some time and effort to unravel it all again, and what will have flown past without you noticing by that stage?<br /><br />How can you be aware, constantly, of the state of your heart, to make sure it doesn't get tangled? Is it too much to be unceasingly thinking about? Is that part of the deal with hearts, anyway, that thinking doesn't always help? Are our hearts created to be tangled? Is there danger in not letting ourselves get knotted and messed up? Is it then that we miss out? Is it all really just inevitable in the end?<br /><br />I don't want to stumble all over my own mess, I don't want to waste my time being caught up in making sure my heart isn't involved beyond what my brain sees as reasonable.<br /><br />I want to get caught up in Jesus. I want to be so tangled that I can't undo the knots. I want to look at my heart and see, not how woven into this world I am, but how taken I am with Him, how tangled and knotted and completely messed up I am in the greatest love the Earth has ever known.<br /><br />Because in the brokenness of my heart, that love is patient, that love is made perfect, and that love never fails.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-61450779569175813702012-01-20T06:50:00.002+11:002012-01-20T06:55:00.944+11:00Youth Camp, October 2011I'd love nothing more than to take your sadness<br />The air you breathe is filled with my sweetness<br />You can not hide you can't run from my goodness<br /><br />I will chase you<br />I will chase you<br />I will chase you until I catch you<br />Until I catch your heart<br /><br />There's nothing you've done<br />There is nothing you've done<br />That could make me take my love <br />from you<br /><br />Won't you run to me<br />Won't you run to me<br />Won't you run to me<br />My arms are open wide<br />For you<br /><br />There's nothing you've done<br />That could make me take my love<br />Away<br /><br />I'd love nothing more than to take your sadness<br />The air you breathe is filled with my sweetness<br />You cannot run you can't hide from my goodness<br /><br />–some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-15609974662420668312012-01-19T08:48:00.005+11:002012-01-19T08:54:14.100+11:00In the Simplest of ThingsUnsure where to call home,<br />Even less certain of the road.<br /><br />And still, I can't deny the sun,<br />I can't but find hope.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-18829768869727801452011-12-04T03:32:00.000+11:002011-12-04T03:33:17.416+11:00I Saw Love TodayTo say this trip so far has been everything I thought it would be is a lie - the truth is, I really had no idea what to expect, so I didn't expect much at all.<br /><br />Life here is still life. I am still my own person, I can still do right and wrong, and every morning and moment, in every situation, I'm still faced with the choice of whether or not I will live for God. Still faced with the decision of how much I want Him, and want to see His work, and experience Him changing me.<br />And of course I do want that, but the threat of complacency is no less here than at home.<br /><br />Thus far I've been so blessed and humbled by the people here. I came to serve and love, and yet at every turn I find people going out of their way to love and serve me. I don't understand many things things about the culture here; some things unsettle and unnerve me, while other things inspire me and fill me with joy.<br /><br />There's a girl here about 9 years old, Srai Laen, whose background is sketchy at best. It's easy to tell in both her and her sister that they have been starved of love and treated unfairly, and likely exposed to many things that arent healthy for children. And as so often with people brought up without love, she can be hard to love. She's clingy, interfering, moody, selfish, violent, she's infested with lice, and she often fights with the other children.<br />When I asked God what he wanted me to do here, he said 'love my people'.<br /><br />Some of the children are so easy to to love, and I am also trying to love the unloved and seemingly unlovable. But I can't do it without God. Without his love, I cannot love this girl, I cannot find grace and patience in my own strength.<br /><br />So I decided to love her as much as I do the cute, friendly, happy children, and God is slowly revealing to me the way He sees her. Another of His beautiful creations. An innocent child, given much less than she deserved. But she gives so much. Every day she wants to draw pictures, 'Sister, koom nu?' and I find my patience waning, but without fail, she will draw, and she will give me pictures of flowers, she will pick real flowers, she will give me some old plastic trinket that I would honestly never use, but to her is something big.<br /><br />And today I watched, as another girl that normally fights with her and gives her grief was crying, and instead of being the rat-bag and making the situation worse, Srai Laen knelt down and started wiping away the other girl's tears with the most gentle hands and the ends of her own shirt.<br /><br />Love is patient,<br />Love is kind and is not jealous; <br />Love does not brag and is not arrogant, <br />Love does not act unbecomingly;<br />it does not seek its own, is not provoked,<br />does not take into account a wrong suffered, <br />does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; <br />Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.<br /><br />Love never fails.<br /><br /><br />I don't consider myself privileged because I have more 'stuff', possessions are meaningless. I consider myself privileged, because I know Love. And because today, I got to see Jesus in the hands and face and tattered shirt of a child.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-89918139893811451162011-12-03T19:25:00.001+11:002011-12-03T19:27:17.011+11:00Mission.The question is: What exactly <i>is</i> my mission?<br /><br />I am a volunteer. Many people I know are. I've spent most years of my life giving up hours, days, and weeks to one cause or other, volunteering, serving, putting up my hand to join in. Church, beach mission, youth ministry, even at work and with friends, "I'll do it!"<br />And I am happy to. I am happy to serve, I am happy to be a volunteer.<br /><br />But, I'm only asking the question 'why?' now, on my longest volunteer mission to date.<br />And still, 5-6 weeks isn't really a long time, but at just over the half-way mark, I'm beginning to be able to place my thoughts together and ask the question, what is my mission?<br /><br />I tell people I'm going on a 'missions trip', well, what does that mean? What is my aim, my goal? If I felt that God wanted me to come here, then what is the reason he wanted me?<br /><br />I asked him at the beginning of the trip, and have since, and every time I ask I get an immediate answer: "Love my people."<br /><br />That's all well and good, I'm very prepared to do that, at all times, whether at home or elsewhere. But how does that work here?<br /><br />The culture in Cambodia is vastly different to that of Australia in Melbourne's eastern suburbs. Life at the children's centre can be challenging but it's by no means poverty. The children get educated, get three full meals a day, have plenty of clean water, the facilities here are amazing compared to the surrounding 'houses' (dilapidated shacks) they sing worship songs every night and pray and read the bible at dinner. They're fairly independent and do all their own washing (by hand) and get themselves washed and dressed and off to school...<br /><br />The answer to the question is very clear when I'm at youth on a Friday night, the answer is even there in writing when I'm on beach mission for a week or two of my year. I know who I am, and I know what I'm doing in those situations.<br /><br />Here, I am lost.<br /><br />I try to take it as a good thing, because it makes me press into God more than I usually would. But in this place, I don't know where I fit, I don't know who I am, and I don't know my purpose.<br /><br />Still I hear the words echo: "Love my people."<br /><br />But I'm not sure what love looks like here. I've tried and I only seem to be further mystified by the culture.<br /><br />What can I bring to these people? What can I show or teach them? How can I bless them? How, oh Lord, how, do I love your people?some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-35393726679880824042011-11-29T14:49:00.000+11:002011-11-29T14:50:51.100+11:00Update, copied from a letter to my family.My Dearest family... (well, my only family :P) ((Nathan included!)) here's an update on things for you if you care to know!<br /><br />Life here is awesome for me, time is very flexible, so that's awesome!<br />Hannah went home, if you didn't already know! A bunch of stuff happening in her life and God is doing some stuff, and she felt much more peaceful about being with her family. So we three made the trek to Bangkok on Saturday too see Hannah to the airport and spent the night at Khaosan rd, crazy market, not much sleep! Bussed back to Poipet Sunday, the bus trip takes roughly 5 hours, more when you consider nothing runs on time so the bus leaves late, and petrol stops take a long time.<br />Had a run in with some dodgies at the border - pretty much inevitable. Happened the first time too, they tried to sell us fake visas but we said no, they tried it again this time but we said no and hey weren't too fussed, until Richy told the other passengers it was a scam and the bus dude made us walk the rest of the way to the border! Most of the other passengers did the same after that. We caught a tuk tuk for 20 baht (maybe 60¢?) to the border and crossed back in no worries, but the phone number we had for our guy at the centre didn't work, so we had to catch another tuk tuk, and this guy didn't speak any English so that was fun... Luckily between Richy and I we remembered how to get to the children's centre. Though the guy wasn't happy when we tried to pay him - he wanted dodgy tourist prices!<br />A very tiring weekend, but we did get to stock up on Oreos in Thailand, so, worth it.<br /><br />During the day here half the kids go to school and we teach the other half English in small classes, after lunch they swap over and we teach the other half. No idea what I'm doing half the time but it's fun!<br />We are very well fed, rice for every meal of course, plus some meat and veggies or whatever it is they've cooked. Our favorite is candied pork. Seriously the best thing of my life.<br />Last week the leaders took us out to eat those ducks cooked inside their eggs... Wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be!<br />The kids love drawing and ask me every day if we can draw "Sister, koom nu??" and they write letters all the time "I love you, I love Jesus, can you be my sister, I like hamster." etc...<br />Richy teaches guitar - a lot of the kids are already really good though! So it's not beginner lessons, but he's been teaching them a few English songs.<br />Everyone stares when you go to the market! Not many tourists in Poipet, ever. And if there are they stay around the centre of the 'city' for traveling or the casinos. Not many white people out our way, so people stare and the kids yell "hello! Hello! Hello! Whatsyourname? Hello!"<br /><br />This week the normal English teacher, Christine, is on staff retreat, so there aren't really any fluent English speakers here to translate! A lot of the kids are quite smart though so it's okay.<br /><br />I've seen some blood noses and a hectic water burn and haven't even felt sick yet! Haha nurse Emmy to the rescue... Be proud.<br /><br />Mosquitoes keep biting me. Only me, it seems. Let's hope the anti malarial meds work! Lollllllll.<br /><br />It's pretty hot here so we get super tired! Afternoon naps are always the correct choice. Today I organised a water fight as part of the English lesson because it was extra hot. Winning.<br /><br />With Hannah gone Richy and I have to pick up her classes, so tonight I have the year 8s and up! Should be fun, they like to laugh at us<br /><br />We're also getting Khmer lessons from one of the older girls here... It's a hard language to learn! 33 consonants! Haven't even started vowels yet, ohmigosh.<br /><br />We might get a chance to travel down to Kratie and see the other centre and also pass by Siem Reap which would both be fun! But involve more epic bus rides<br /><br />Having fun here! I'm not really homesick but I do miss you! Excited for Christmas to see my fam-a-lam! Much love Xxsome girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-79831673778134230532011-10-31T13:28:00.001+11:002011-10-31T13:29:32.857+11:00I know now, that He fixed my heart, so it can break again.<br /><br />But what can one person do?<br /><br />All things.some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-79106029950048220302011-08-25T00:47:00.001+10:002011-08-25T00:47:40.964+10:00A story about a girl.I thanked you all for coming, and thanked a bunch for helping out; I told you that I love you all and that you should eat more food.
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<br />If I had thought out a proper speech for my 21st, I might have shared briefly about various life-things, but for what I really would have wanted to say, I'm sure it would have gone on too long, so instead:
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<br />Ima tell you a story about a girl who from a young age prided herself on being happy, seeing the best in people, and cheering for the underdog. A girl who loved to create, learn, and explore. A girl who loved God, loved her family, and loved her friends. A girl who loved life.
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<br />I don't really quite know how to continue the story. Simple words seem to trivialise it. Nonetheless, I will go on.
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<br />Something was stolen from this girl. It wasn't an object or a physical thing, so it's hard to pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe it was innocence, or ignorance. Maybe it was childhood. Whatever it was, it's hardly important now, but something was stolen from this girl.
<br />And with it went the girl's love for creating, learning, and exploring. With it went the girl's joy in the life and passions and people around her.
<br />The loss of all of these things left a gaping hole that was filled with numbness, depression, and anxiety. For years.
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<br />For years the girl wandered around, going through the motions of her everyday life at school, at home, at work, out with friends, at church, and even into university, and wondered why she couldn't press through this cloud that had stolen all her happiness. She wondered why other people looked like they were enjoying life, why other people seemed to have things together, why other people could talk to God, and she couldn't.
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<br />Fear. Then fear set in as well. Fear that she might die. Fear that she might live. Fear that this might be all she would ever know. Fear that whatever it was that had stolen her peacelovejoyhappiness would eventually kill her.
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<br />There was no one person that changed things, no cataclysmic event. God was integral of course, as He always is. A bunch of people around the girl played important parts, but it was a gradual thing that the girl's will became resolved, that she realised she had a choice and a chance, that she realised there was something on the other side of the mountain, something good. And depression be damned, she was going to get to that other side!
<br />There were a lot of tears, a lot of battles along the way, each day an internal struggle. Some fights the girl lost, some she won.
<br />If she hadn't been so focussed (or at other times, distracted) she might have stopped to appreciate the view from high atop the mountain. She might have looked down at the dead, shadowy place she'd emerged from, turned her head with a triumphant sort of never-looking-back flick, locked her gaze on the sight of the bright, glorious land in front of her, and started down the mountain, into the sunshine.
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<br />Buuuut she was too busy getting amongst it, focussing on the weeds in her path to notice any of that. It was only when she started noticing that her heart hurt that she realised something had changed. If her heart was hurting, that surely meant her heart could feel! Pain wasn't what she wanted though, so, head down, she continued on.
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<br />Not too long after this she began to notice different little things... Now, there were fewer tears, and more smiles, mourning had started to turn to dancing, and sometimes when she laughed, it felt real! She went about her activities, and found joy in some things! She stayed around people, and felt the love she knew she had for them! She riled up, she got excited, she even got frustrated and yelled at people because she'd found things again that she was passionate about!
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<br />All of a sudden to her it seemed that she was now running down the mountain, into the lush green fields to continue her journey!
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<br />It was gone. The darkness, the fear. The black dog that had followed her around, biting at her heels, gone. And it wasn't replaced by happiness, no, happiness is fickle. It was replaced with joy. Replaced with peace. Replaced with a firm identity in the girl's Creator, the One who created her to shine, not shadow.
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<br />The girl was free.
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<br />And then the girl turned twenty-one. And she had a party and made all of her friends wear ugly jumpers, just for fun. And she wanted to cry. Not because she was sad, but because she was transformed. Because she went from feeling unworthy and hopeless, to being one of the most hopeful and joyful people she knows. Because there was a time she thought she might not make it this far, and if she did then surely it would just be to suffer longer. She wanted to cry because she made it, not only alive and well, but having a strong relationship with her Creator and with armsful of people that loved her, and she loved right back.
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<br />She couldn't think of a way, but somehow she wanted to thank these people. For patience, for prayer. For laughs, for listening. There were too many. Even the ones that never knew or understood. She wanted to say sorry as well. For the battles she lost, for the times her destruction affected others. Of course there was a reason, but it is never an excuse.
<br />So she wrote a story, in the hopes that it might shed some light on her life, why she was the way she was, and why she is the way she is. That the people around her might know, even if she never told them, that they helped breathe life into her, that even if they once made her smile, they had made a difference. That even if she barely knew them, she loved them for the life they brought.
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<br />She couldn't think of a way to thank her Creator, either. Of course she could never repay what He had given to her life. But I think she's figured out what to do, with her life. Maybe not specifically, but if there's anyone that deserves it, it's Him. And I'm sure that what she's decided is to live her life, filled with joy, for Him. For His purpose. For His glory.
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<br />And she's going to try and give away as much of that joy to others as she can. She's going to help other people through the mountain paths, and out into the glorious everlasting sunshine.
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<br /><3some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-10668392202322174462011-08-18T12:02:00.000+10:002011-08-18T12:05:20.789+10:00I am not a house.People aren't renovator's dreams... People shouldn't be looked at primarily as broken and flawed with potential. Yes, we all are broken and flawed, but we're not houses. We're not projects. What if we never change? What if we can never be fixed?
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<br />If the landlord said you couldn't renovate the house, how much would you love it still? Enough to buy it, rent it, live there?
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<br />If you aren't willing, you won't make that commitment to the house.
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<br />Why commit yourself to people if you aren't willing to love them just as they are? Yes, people can change, yes, people can be motivated, should be motivated. But sometimes, we don't change, we don't get better. If you commit yourself to a person thinking you can change them, thinking they'll be great once the upgrades are done, get ready to be disappointed.
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<br />I'm not a house, I can't be renovated by you, or anyone except God, and I'm definitely not for rent... but if I never changed, would you love me just the same?some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-55852630263510488692011-05-24T14:47:00.001+10:002011-05-24T14:47:50.574+10:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2zcPV7oIh1mmjL1YAQ799059UlZW52jkQ-cO7CbHuAixTMkHV8MdN6tfgmcGBIeJdVEotI7_Fspnzkq0nEZsNOfXvF4-KW2NRMjcOcp8Ljb4nlf2ibdipGgWy7rqs6LtrDS9u6IxTIBWv/s1600/tumblr_li7jrkLlig1qz4d4bo1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2zcPV7oIh1mmjL1YAQ799059UlZW52jkQ-cO7CbHuAixTMkHV8MdN6tfgmcGBIeJdVEotI7_Fspnzkq0nEZsNOfXvF4-KW2NRMjcOcp8Ljb4nlf2ibdipGgWy7rqs6LtrDS9u6IxTIBWv/s400/tumblr_li7jrkLlig1qz4d4bo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610139721193563314" /></a><br /><br />Via <a href="http://observando.net/post/3949371821">+</a>some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-31667268054854206872011-05-03T01:56:00.002+10:002011-05-03T02:02:05.858+10:00<span style="font-style:italic;">-<br />Hallelujah<br />You have won the victory<br />Hallelujah<br />You have won it all for me<br /><br />Death could not hold You down<br />You are the risen king<br />Seated in majesty<br />You are the risen king<br /><br />-</span>some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-629249136795339582.post-15887861282074559282011-04-09T13:26:00.006+10:002011-04-09T13:36:48.005+10:00Impossible SoulThis is one of my most flavourite songs at the moment. It's 25minutes long. I wish it was shorter because then I could listen to it more often. But I wish it was longer because it's my favourite!<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8R_3mXZBsuU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><br /><br />Saw Sufjan early this year. He is a dream live. He apologised for the length of this song. Easily forgiven, really.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FvcxEiQ33wYjlWuJgPHOnWpy0qYhcwYPxv6BjhBsTPaw7YhQplAzHDn53foPN64WRmXt2exHi-DiKmNgXWaOXlD7F7KAgEvNB1WeDWsI2bc4s-CNhQxRcibq3d-Yq7XPM6qO3v6V7M8l/s1600/167877_10150129217681278_626641277_8207076_1144490_n.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FvcxEiQ33wYjlWuJgPHOnWpy0qYhcwYPxv6BjhBsTPaw7YhQplAzHDn53foPN64WRmXt2exHi-DiKmNgXWaOXlD7F7KAgEvNB1WeDWsI2bc4s-CNhQxRcibq3d-Yq7XPM6qO3v6V7M8l/s400/167877_10150129217681278_626641277_8207076_1144490_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593421913460978930" /></a>some girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01652311994179275982noreply@blogger.com3