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sleeping; waking; dreaming

2012-01-05T21:37:00.001-10:00

This post consists of three combined ones which have been up on here within the last several months. I had a friend give me suggestions and review it from a detached perspective, mostly to see if it was too esoteric or convoluted. If you have any suggestions or ideas, let me know.
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In the last few moments of consciousness, laying down in the dark, when I no longer notice how my body feels underneath the comforter, nor the slowed pace and gradual shallowness of my breath, I think of you.

Your eyes and your lips, I remember their curves; I trace them with my mind. This only lasts a few seconds but remains a constant habit of mine - and one I'm desperate to break.

Why does it feel different when I see you, than when I think about you? Do you, in manifestations of lips and eyes, only exist in my mind?

How is it that I remember the dimensions of your angles, and have memorized their meanings with precision? Each coordinate is matched in my mind as the vacancy their configurations display. Each coordinate corresponds to various sharp feelings that I feel when around you. With an exhale, a feeling of doubt; an inhale, the elation of hope; a furrowed brow and the sharp hints of isolation. Each of these and more are tied to thin, invisible strings which pull and direct me with your sways. They leave me tired and worn. I want to sleep.

But I wonder, in the last few moments of consciousness, are they telling? Is it you that I see? If I imagine your eyes and your lips, does it mean I'm looking for you, or someone just like you? Someone who wants how you didn't, is willing how you weren't, and will risk for me what I wanted to risk for you.

Would you let me know?

It's a familiar place. I'm sitting on some street corner in a town, one indistinguishable by its features and only recognizable in feeling. It's snowing. I'm talking and probably laughing occasionally, in a manner which demands no effort or expression. I'm with friends and acquaintances, but their faces are strange and distorted. I only know them by preconceived feeling, through skewed perception. I sit and talk. I cross my legs. I sip some coffee and maybe push around half of a bagel on an eggshell ceramic dish. Then, all of a sudden, I'm at home. I've actually been sitting in my bedroom, as it turns out, talking to different people with different faces. It doesn't startle me or strike me as strange - no - I didn't even notice until thinking twice about it. No - the shift was subtle. The same scene: indistinguishable, somehow recognizable places and faces and feelings. And then there's you.

You walk through my walls. You speak in expressions, through eyes and lips. I don't hear the sounds you make or the words you piece together, how they form sentences and coherent thoughts, but I laugh. And, I am actually laughing. I am actually happy, intrigued. I am honest.

You sit me down on my bed, now in a forest permeated with much fog and light. I hover over us and see your hand on my shoulder, the expression on my face, and yet I feel it all. From above, I see you with my eyes, and me, through your eyes, and everything makes sense. Everything is in its right place. Even in the midst of the heavy fog, I can see. I can actually see.

Let me sleep.

But, after all, you're merely an apparition, and I push through you like one. I don't know it then, but I will after remembering for the third time, after thinking it twice. I see you like the snow on that indistinguishable street corner in a town, like fog in a forest. You melt in my hair and fall all around me, but I can't grasp you. I can't hold you. I see you, though not clearly. You don't see me.

And again, repeatedly, you walk through my walls. You disappear. I am wide awake.

I hear first. Upon waking, I only notice sounds; noises without differentiation. The way birds tend to chirp the morning in, or on a windy day, the shuffle of blinds upon the sills; I wouldn't know the difference. After all, the chirping of birds could have come from the blinds, which might have been the sound of people talking in the other room, whose voices reverberate off of the walls and off of my cochlea.

I feel second, and I only see thereafter, as my eyelids pull themselves apart. In that moment - not in the one preceding nor in the one coming after - I always find myself waiting to feel something. Upon waking, then hearing, and before seeing, I realize I am cold.

My problem remains in the second. I am often stuck in the second, in your absence. It's similar to the vacant feeling of canceled plans or a subtle dissonance that crept up unnoticed. Of my breath, there is no promise of you breathing it in, no definite chance to see you again. It's your absence, I presume - no, I am sure - that makes me want to pull up my blanket. I want to shut my eyes. I want to lay down my head. I want to cover my ears. I want to go back to sleep.

And upon waking, if I don't hear you, nor feel you, see you, nor touch you, it just might not be worth waking up at all.

altars - 121911

2011-12-28T18:42:00.001-10:00

Today, during tea time at NHCC and at the Zeo meeting at Chili's, the group was prompted to reflect on the year and share what noteworthy thing God has been doing in our lives. Both times, in a surprisingly sincere manner - I say this because it is in contrast to the usual cynical/crazy/inappropriate behavior I tend to exhibit during these meetings - I reflected and spoke of my most profound experiences of this year. Both times I felt slightly nervous and my voice shook. Both times I wanted to close my eyes and praise God on the spot, whatever that looks like; I had a strong urge to acknowledge Him right then and there. As I shared twice today, first, having to do with God's grace, and secondly, His power and sovereignty. They are both correlated, but I focused on specific attributes during the respective times. I'll put it in writing now so that I can always remember it - my altar, constructed word upon word, of praise and remembrance before God and myself.

This year has been one marked with significant relationships. With each relationship set before me, I believe that I found a little more of who I am and how I am shaped by my experiences with those I choose to be intimate with. While this year has been marked by relationships, the term remains unclear as to the quality or even the circumstances of said relationships. Right now, I speak both of great gain and great loss. I'm not sure I felt more pain, loneliness, insecurity, vulnerability, joy, freedom, elation and wholeness this year, collectively than in any previous year of my life. As December comes to a close, and in hindsight, I see so much brokenness, and yet so much goodness through it all. I see so much purpose. I see redemption. In the struggles I've had - and am still dealing with - in Rachael and Charis, and in the void of the both of them, I am left in a strange place, but nonetheless a place postured to see God at work in my heart, shaping me and guiding me "through the dark", "toward the sun." Especially with Austin N., I have found myself to be so vulnerable, so helpless, depraved, weak, and accepted. Of course it's not Austin, but God in him. It's Jesus in my community. In this example too, I am met with the goodness of God. It's so strange how I am - and have always been - so hesitant and afraid to share my deepest struggles with people. It makes sense and I understand it, but it's still so strange. I was afraid of rejection and humiliation - still am. But it was opening myself up to a person in this manner that has brought me much untold freedom. At the prompting of God, at the working of the Holy Spirit, I am confessing and I am being healed. It took much vulnerability before God and man to get there, and actually still take a lot of dying, but it's happening. And I think for the first time.

In all of these things, I am expressing the unfathomable grace of God, which I totally totally totally do not deserve, and in fact, turn down on many occasions. Yet, nevertheless, it - He - is ever present to meet me at my point of need and desperation. Just as He walked into my life and rescued me, turning me around, He is my ever-present help, moment to moment. He has been so faithful. What astonishes me even more so is His attribute of power in all of this. Normally one would think that His power is manifest only in the way He created the world or upholds the universe - that is true - but in these days I am recognizing His power as the way He always works out His will. It's in the way that He uses my free will to steer me toward Him - in everything I do. In my relationship failures, in my propensity toward sin, and my acting on it, He turns it and uses it all to glorify Himself. That is true power. That is ultimate power. I can't imagine it, or explain it, clearly enough.

This Christmas, I am remembering God like that. I am remembering the never-ending testimony of His faithfulness to me and reaches of His endless, infinite love. I am acknowledging my sin, my failure to be ultimately faithful in return to Christ, and even the sin I don't even know to confess yet, but in light of that, I desire to even more so emphasize and acknowledge that God is greater. God is more powerful. That at the end of all things, God is love.

dreaming

2011-12-13T13:56:00.004-10:00

It's a familiar place. I'm talking to friends and acquaintances, sitting on some street corner in town, one indistinguishable by its features and only recognizable in feeling. It's snowing. I'm talking and probably laughing occasionally, in a manner which demands no effort or expression. I'm with friends and acquaintances, but their faces are strange and distorted. I only know them by preconceived feeling, through skewed perception. I sit and talk. I cross my legs. I sip some coffee and maybe push around half of a bagel on an eggshell ceramic dish. Then, all of a sudden, I'm at home. I've actually been sitting in my bedroom, as it turns out, talking to different people with different faces. It doesn't startle me or strike me as strange - no - I didn't even notice until thinking about it twice. No - the shift was subtle. The same scene: indistinguishable, somehow recognizable places and faces and feelings. And then there's you.

You walk through my walls. You speak in expressions, through eyes and lips. I don't hear the sounds you make or the words you piece together, how they form sentences and coherent thoughts, but I laugh. I am actually laughing. I am actually happy, intrigued. I am honest.

You sit me down on my bed, in a forest permeated with much fog and light. I hover over us and see your hand on my shoulder, the expression on my face, and feel it all at the same time. I see you with my eyes, from above, and through your eyes, and everything makes sense. Everything is in its right place. Even in the midst of the heavy fog, I can see. I can actually see.

Let me sleep.

But, after all, you're merely an apparition, and I push through you like one. I don't know it then, but I will after remembering for the third time, after thinking twice. I see you like the snow on that indistinguishable street corner in town, like fog in a forest. You melt in my hair and fall all around me, but I can't grasp you. I can't hold you. I see you, though not clearly. You don't see me.

And again, repeatedly, you walk through my walls. You disappear. I am wide awake.

sleeping

2011-10-24T20:42:00.006-10:00

In the last few moments of consciousness, laying down in the dark, when I no longer notice how my body feels underneath the comforter, nor the slowed pace and gradual shallowness of my breath, I think of you.

I imagine your eyes and your lips. I remember their curves; I trace them with my mind. This only lasts a few seconds, but remains a constant habit of mine - and one I'm desperate to break.

Why does it feel different when I see you, than when I think about you? Do you, in manifestations of lips and eyes, only exist in my mind?

How is it that I remember the dimensions of your angles, and have memorized their meanings with precision? Each coordinate is matched in my mind as the vacancy their configurations display. Each coordinate corresponds to various sharp feelings that I feel when around you. With an exhale a feeling of doubt; an inhale, the elation of hope; furrowed brows and the sharp hints of isolation. Each of these and more are tied to thin, invisible strings which pull and direct me with your sways and direction. They leave me tired and worn. I want to sleep.

But I wonder, in the last few moments of consciousness, are they telling? Is it you that I see? If I imagine your eyes and your lips, does it mean I'm looking for you, or someone just like you? Someone who wants how you didn't, is willing how you weren't, and will risk for me what I wanted to risk for you.

Would you let me know?

lightly; freely

2011-10-09T15:49:00.002-10:00

Do you ever think about the things that you'll never think about, that which you just cognitively miss? It's those things that, due to your experiences, temperament and circumstances, go over your head. What about the things that we will miss as a generation? What those a thousand years from now shake their heads at us for? Recently, on a slightly different note, I've been thinking about the people I'll never meet. I think about the places I'll never go; the food that I'll never taste; the sounds I'll never hear; the feelings I'll never experience. How does that make you feel? Does it make you feel anxious?

When thinking about the places to never go, or the people to never meet, I assume there is normally a feeling of sadness, a lingering regret, or at the very least hints of melancholy that humans experience. However, for me, there are times which I actually feel uneasy for feeling no such thing, no such wanderlust, and no urge or inclination to travel. Don't mistake me; I've felt the desire to leave - and felt it strongly - but this feeling was always so different than everyone else's. Our conversations sounded the same, but inside, I felt my head tilted, unable to truly relate to the feeling of wanting to go from place to place, to see and feel and taste and experience.

Maybe no one ever really wants to just travel. Maybe no one is a thrill-seeker, wanting to "just live life." Maybe we're all searching for sehnsucht, and all we can do is put activities to that which there is no language for. And I think it works for some, at least for a little. Then the quest is on again. And we search.

I think I want to travel, to leave this island, so that I can find my home. That's not wanderlust. That's not a thrill-seeker's mentality. I think when it comes down to it, I just want to figure out where all of my preferences, my inclinations and my language, intersect.

I wonder if this place really exists. I wonder if it's sehnsucht. I think I catch glimpses in music and in the sunset. I feel it in cups of coffee and in conversation. When I'm driving by myself during the moments just before it's considered sunset - when everything's golden, I see it then. When I'm up late, having whispered conversations with friends, I feel it again. Then again, maybe I'm just fooling myself when I claim I'm looking for a big city to live in, the right city. I say that because in all of these things, when I take it, deconstruct it and just look at it for what it is, I see God. I see Jesus' smile and I feel His embrace. Not that I physically see "the lines on His face," but I somehow feel it and know it - I trust it.

And in that, I think I actually hold in my hands that which I truly possess. I am enveloped in light and love that chooses me, pursues me, and never ends. I am home.

And so, since I'm here, I pack lightly and travel freely.

epitaph

2011-08-21T20:36:00.005-10:00

The other night, while I was driving home, I had an epiphany. I had been feeling quite nostalgic earlier in the afternoon, and as the sun was setting "Everybody's Changing," by Keane, came on while my iTunes was on random. I wasn't sure why that song evokes a sense of sorrow in me. It's not a moving song - it's hardly even a good song - yet it always has me singing along, soaring my hand out the window and exhaling deeply. Do you know of any songs like that? I, in fact, have entire playlists dedicated for that occasion.

Anyway, it was evening now, and Keane had again come on randomly. "Everybody's changing and I don't feel the same." During this second, melancholy nostalgia-fest, I thought of my plans for next year. I thought of Rachael. I thought of all of my friends all across the globe. I thought of how everybody really does change, and how I really don't feel the same. It's the strangest thing: I am about to - hopefully - embark on what I've supposedly been waiting for, for the past six years, that being living in a great, vibrant city, starting new and perhaps even the initial stages of Crux. But instead, I don't feel right. What's complicated is that I feel like this is something God could be leading me in, yet it feels distant, cold and frightening. I don't feel the same.

After a few times of "Everybody's Changing" on repeat (does anyone else do that too?), I boiled down the reasons of why I felt like I did. When I think of them, nonetheless type them out, I feel as if they are especially ridiculous and childish. First of all, and possibly most pathetic, I am bummed that my plans initiated what is now the ending of me and Rach. I think I feel that way because it's partially on account of me, but mostly on account of her - what she's feeling, what she needs to do and what God is doing inside of her. Because of this, I am mostly left feeling confused at how the story goes. Secondly, and probably the next in line for pathetic-ness, is my reluctance to leave the fragmented, constellation of a community I have here. I'm actually afraid to begin again. Maybe it's because of what I hear from Kev, Suz, and Aley (not Zill, though), that it is hard, and everything regarding Haven't Been to the Ocean Since. I'm scared. When I was in VC for the first day, I was all alone, having only been away for 24-hours. I was alright until about 9:30PM. The sun still hadn't set yet, and I was by myself in the room. I can't explain it, but I felt this cold, cold sense of isolation. I cried and cried, but I didn't know why I was crying. I am afraid of that.

I thought of my degree program and the fact that I'd be gone for three years. I thought of my mom and dad growing older, their faces changing, and me missing out on three years of their life, and possibly more if I move. I felt selfish, being gone felt pointless, and everything became blurred. Wow, so, this post is becoming a little too transparent. So, briefly, my third and final reason is that I am, for the first time, making a decent income. Leaving would mean I am unemployed and broke again.

These reasons, stacked up on each other, honestly form a pretty convincing offer to put school off for two or three or four years, or to do it here like every other pastor seems to be doing. And who knows, in reality, maybe I will actually have to wait some time to leave. But I here's where My epiphany breaks in.

It appeared before me slowly, as the song had changed from "Everybody's Changing," to "Revelation Big Sur," by Red House Painters. It was a new realization, something that seems so apparent, but some how you never had thought of it before. I felt like it was a perspective one gains after losing something, or someone, that was greatly loved. I felt privileged.

It was the simple idea that if my parents were to suddenly die, that while I would be undoubtedly crushed, I would still hold with me everything that we did, everything that we said, and everything that was. They would be alive in my memories, and as memories, stay close to me, to be brought nearer through song and scent. They would, as memories, travel closer to perfection as time went on. The harsh things traded for great, silent ones, and the wrinkles on their faces for faint apparitions of the tenderest of expressions. It's something that's said at every funeral and during every movie, yet not fully realized until it's personal, necessitating emotional processing. And while all of my problems aren't solved, nor those emotions gone forever, I think I felt it.

Some how it was that realization that released to me untold peace. I could leave and it would be okay. Rach and I could never talk again and it would be okay. My parents could wrinkle and pass, and I too will pass in my time, and everything will eventually be okay. And though everybody is changing, and despite me not feeling the same, at the end of everything, I'll be able to exhale, smiling, with tears falling from my eyes, "everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt."

galatians

2011-02-12T14:50:00.002-10:00

The book of Galatians is one of the most striking books in the New Testament. Considered one of the earliest letters of Paul, written around 48-49 A.D., Galatians features a harsher tone, and lacks the usual thanksgiving and exhortation after his greeting found in most of his other letters. Its intense nature displays Paul’s passionate desire for the church in Galatia to understand the true gospel that he originally preached, the one that they originally believed. While Galatians is filled with many important insights and spiritual truths, I will cover three major topics that Paul addresses in this letter and briefly explain why they are significant to our understanding of Galatians. These three topics include: 1) Paul’s apostolic authority, 2) influence of the Judaizers, and 3) freedom in the true gospel.

In the first sentence of Galatians, Paul is quick to establish his role as apostle, making it known that his commission and authority isn’t from man, or the power-center in Jerusalem, but from the resurrected Jesus Himself. He spends a large part of the first chapter, and a portion of the second, to reiterate his interdependence from the first apostles and the unique calling to the Gentiles. The significance of this topic is understood best when asking the question, “Why does Paul bring this up?” Simply, Paul emphasized his apostolic authority because it was being questioned. It’s generally understood that a group of people called “Judaizers,” were known to preach a gospel that included Gentiles first obeying the Law (such as being circumcised) as a means of completing salvation and becoming a true descendant of Abraham. It seems that these Judaizers were not only ruining the reputation of Paul as an apostle of Christ, but distorting the gospel that he had originally preached. In light of this, Paul’s extensive background report proves to show that he was reestablishing his God-given authority, in order to then reinstate the true gospel the Galatian church strayed from. Paul’s mention of being given the “right hand of fellowship” from the power-center in Jerusalem, and in name-dropping Barnabas and Titus, indicates his desire to be united in Christ with Cephas, James, and John, and also to show his credibility in their partnerships with him.

The second major theme is the influence of the Judaizers and the effects of their “different gospel.” The third chapter of Galatians reveals that the Christians in Galatia were deceived by the Judaizers and sought to complete their salvation through following certain ceremonies and traditions of the Law. Paul’s assertion in 3:15-22 is that neither Gentiles nor Jews are descendants of Abraham and children of the promise by keeping the Law, but through faith in Christ. He states that Jesus, in His life, death, and resurrection is the fulfillment of the covenant, and subjection to the Law distorts the nature of His sacrifice. Subsequently, the means of salvation and the identity of the covenant people are compromised through a works-based religion, rather than the faith-based relationship Christ offers. In 5:2-4, Paul blatantly states that whoever receives circumcision, or attempts to be justified by keeping the Law, is subject to observe the whole Law (which is impossible). Paul emphasized this to expose the Judaizer’s influence on the church and to reveal the unnecessary bondage of being under the Law after Christ has set them free.

Lastly, the third major theme of Galatians is freedom in the true gospel. In chapters five and six, Paul defends the accusation that salvation by grace through faith, without keeping the work of the Law, would give people the idea that they can do anything they want. Usually, today, the Judaizers are demonized and are seen as heretics just to be heretics. While they might have been motivated by a desire for power and authority, their presence does inform the reader of this tension that existed during the time of Galatians. Paul responds to them by saying, “For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision means anything, but faith working through love.” He explains later that the natural output of the Spirit is “love, joy, peace, patience, etc.” This reveals that a correct understanding of the Spirit’s work in a believer’s life bears much significance. Paul asserts that grace through faith in Christ doesn’t allow reckless, unrestrained behavior, but instead out of the Spirit, a freedom and motivation to love others and God in a fuller manner that goes beyond the Law.

XLV

2011-02-06T17:55:00.009-10:00

Today is Super Bowl Sunday. Each moment, from the first glorious kick-off, to the shallow inhale of America and simultaneous loss of interest in Frito-Lay chips in hand, I understand that I lose man-points exponentially. While each one whispers an erogenous "all right," wiggles deeper into the couch, and resumes consuming said Frito-Lay products, I do not. In fact, I am not even interested in the million dollar commercials. I know that as I write this, without any fault to you, each ensuing syllable minimizes my manliness.

So anyway, this afternoon at church, the take-down team seemingly downed a few Red Bulls and maximized our efficiency, allowing everyone to leave early. It was intense. It was so intense that prior to the end of service, I could sense the tension building as Pastor Earl went eight minutes over the program. Eight whole minutes. It was crazy. So, I drove home. It was raining and I thought about the homework I needed to do - happily, as I anticipated Starbucks to be empty, everyone at some kind of Super Bowl party. This made me really happy, actually. I got home and was suddenly inspired to go to the pool. See, I've been exercising, running two miles a day and what not, but my right knee has been getting a bit sore. An unexplainable sore - not excruciating, yet not dull and ignorable. I remember hearing about how running, especially everyday, can do long-term damage to one's joints. I've also heard that swimming is great for cardio, so I - Okay sorry, all of Starbucks (mostly consisting of women, at the moment) just yelled "Green Bay!!!" and begun to cheer - I guess the Packers won. Anyway, so I have been getting into swimming. I feel self-conscious though, because I'm not experienced and I don't know if I have my form down. And you know me, my self-preserving nature and all. I don't want to be that splashing fool at the local pool. Home-boy, home-boy.

So I went. It was raining, which would normally be a downer, yet this recreation center has a jacuzzi, and that was secretly 74% of why I wanted to go in the first place. I did some laps. My Dad has this flotation device that goes in-between a swimmer's thighs to keep the lower half of the body afloat, allowing a more strenuous arm/shoulder work out. I did that. After a while, I ended up in the jacuzzi. It was still raining, so beautiful from the steam rising and light drops falling. There was an older woman in the jacuzzi, later I found out her name is June. She works at Hawaii National Bank, and has worked there, in the HR department, for about twenty-three years. She told me about how hard it is to let people go, and that the new owner, which is the great-grandson of the first owner, is in his thirties and single. She's polite, so she didn't tell me, verbally, that he's not so much of a winner. We ended up talking about my schooling and future calling as a pastor. She seemed genuinely pleased, which surprised me. It was great talking with June in the jacuzzi today because I felt that I was making friends with a stranger. I don't often do this, to my recent understanding and displeasure. Do you? When someone is new to church, my school, or a friend of a friend, maybe, but ever just a complete stranger? As I was talking to her, I felt that I missed doing this, though I'm not sure I ever really did.

I have been reflecting a lot on relational evangelism lately. That perfect balance between sharing the gospel with my lips and my actions, my smile and my sermon. I would think that Jesus wants me to make friends with strangers, to help my barista with their tasks like clearing off a table, or stacking chairs, but then a part of me feels that I'm doing those things to trick people into thinking I'm nice, to then slide in a message about Jesus. "This is why I am so awesome: Jesus." I feel like pedophiles do that, predators. I wondered if maybe it wasn't so bad to do that, and if I'm being too critical of my actions. I also wondered if it was possible to experience God's love in such a way where those kinds of actions would flow from me sincerely, without even thinking about emotional manipulation, or luring heathens in with my candy, or the milkshake from my yard.

Today, with June, I didn't tell her about Jesus or even offer to pray for her. And I think it's okay that I didn't. Instead, our conversation flowed naturally, and it was real. I think she sensed my genuine desire to know about her, which caused her continue to talk to me. And maybe as I seek Jesus, to be near Him, I would have more of these conversations with jacuzzi Junes. Maybe, the lifeguard would notice something different in me, the same with my barista, and as I am in communion with God, I would hear Him; I would hear His whisper and be moved by His love for my lifeguard, barista, and for June. I would open my mouth and tell them of what Christ has done for them. And with the words coming out of my mouth, the recollection of relentless acts of love and service would come to mind, preaching their own sermon and piercing their own hearts.

Although these resolutions are ever so fleeting, at least for today I am done. And if it is only for a day, and if I need to continue to remind myself of the purpose which remains not only in striving to be a "good pastor" but a lover of people and a befriend-er of jacuzzi Junes, then so be it.

On this Super Bowl Sunday, I sit here in this Starbucks. I sit here thinking that I am possibly all done proving myself to be America's definition of a man. I am sitting here, thinking that my often perverse desire to be a physically fit, socially-aware, theologically-smart, GQ hottie can be and is swallowed up in the knowledge of Jesus Christ. And that by submitting myself to Him, I, too, can overcome the materialistic, consumer-driven, self-worshipping curse that plagues my culture.

And on this Super Bowl Sunday, I feel like, for the first time in a while, I won.

waking

2011-01-27T15:09:00.005-10:00

I think I hear first. Upon waking, I only notice sounds; noises without differentiation. The way birds tend to chirp the morning in, or on a windy day, the shuffle of blinds upon the sills; I wouldn't know the difference. After all, the chirping of birds could have come from the blinds, which might have been the sound of people talking in the other room, whose voices reverberate off of the walls, off of my cochlea.

I think I hear first because I feel second. And I only see thereafter; my eyelids pull themselves apart and I always find myself cold. It's not that I physically feel cold second - I think it's fourth. I even kick off my blanket, somewhere around the third cycle of REM, yet I am only aware fourth. Upon waking, then hearing, then feeling, then seeing, I find myself cold.

My problem remains in the second. I am often stuck in the second, in your absence. It's similar to the vacant feeling of canceled plans or a subtle cognitive dissonance that crept up unnoticed. Of my breath, there is no promise of you breathing it in, there is no definite chance to see you again. It's your absence, I presume - no, I am sure, that makes me want to pull up my blanket. I want to shut my eyes. I want to lay down my head. I want to cover my ears. I want to go back to sleep.

And upon waking, if I don't hear you, nor feel you, see you, nor touch you, it just might not be worth waking up at all.

waiting on the

2010-07-26T23:47:00.007-10:00

"I believe there's a zealotry, an arrogance, and a culture of conformity that pervades the military. I tell you this because in the military there is no room for the minority opinion and there is no room for dissent. That, in any organization, is dangerous. And that, in the army of a free nation, can be catastrophic. There is a famous quote from General John M. Schofield in his 1879 address to West Point.

"The discipline which makes the soldiers of a free country reliable in battle is not to be gained by harsh or tyrannical treatment. On the contrary, such treatment is far more likely to destroy than to make an army. He who feels the respect which is due to others cannot fail to inspire in them regard for himself. While he who feels and hence manifests disrespect towards othere, especially his inferiors, cannot fail to inspire hatred against himself."

Do soldiers question? Do Soldiers dissent? Absolutely, and all the time. The people of this country, the people of a democracy should demand a military that questions. Would you have a military that turns on its own people when ordered, and does so without question? We as leaders and officers explain to our soldiers during training why they are doing what we tell them to do. Because belief in your task makes a better soldier. But in this war, I could no longer explain to my soldiers why we were fighting and be telling them the truth. How could I order men do die for something I believe to be absolutely wrong?

Lieutenant General, ret. Gregory Newbold wrote in an open letter to Time magazine earlier this year,

"We have been fooled again. I now regret that I did not more openly challenge those who were determined to invade a country whose actions were peripheral to the real threat. But I've been silent long enough. The service members must be absolutely sure that the commitment is for a cause as honorable as the sacrifice. I offer a challenge to those still in uniform. A leader's responsibility is to give voice to those who can't, or don't, have the opportunity to speak. An officer swears an oath not to a person, but to the Constitution. The distinction is important."

And so I have answered the general's challenge. In no uncertain terms I have challenged an illegal and immoral policy on behalf of those who cannot, or are unwilling to speak. This is the responsibility of a leader, and I assure you I am not alone. Several times a week, from the time I have spoken out, I have been approached in person and by correspondence, those within the active duty army and their dependents, with support and respect for my decision. Now the military demands good order and discipline. Yet I promise you that it will not be the single actions of a junior officer that destroys the army, but that of a failed, immoral, and an illegal policy in which we as the people did not put an end to.

There have been some who have said that it is not my right, nor place, nor responsibility to resist the illegal orders of our government. I wish these people could have stood at Auschwitz, then at Nuremburg, and tried to defend the Germans with that argument. Three million people of one single race perished because many believed it was not their right, their place, or their responsibility.

So I ask you, whose responsibility is it to stop an illegal and immoral war? Should we rely on the good grace and conscience for those who started the war for profit and control? Should we rely on our elected officials who ignore their constituents and simply condone and enable our corrupt leaders? Should we rely on the people, who in a democracy hold the ultimate power for change?

Well what happens if the people become so apathetic, so cynical, and so disinterested with politics that the war just seems too far off to affect them personally? There is little at stake for the vast majority of the American population today to take action. How many of you tonight, if you or your loved ones could be sent off to Iraq would not be on the streets protesting day and night?

But the fact of the matter is today there is no draft. And there are far more pressing concerns than a far away war that kills 'only' three to four Americans a day, and 'only' one hundred Iraqis a day. After all, they volunteered for it. But they volunteered for you. And when the people are unwilling to stand up and speak out against the grave injustice, whose responsibility does it become? And my answer to you, it becomes the responsibility of anyone who is willing to do something about it. And wearing the uniform is not, and it is never, an excuse."

-Ehren Watada, First Lieutenant of the United States Army, known for being the first commissioned officer in the US armed forces to refuse to deploy to Iraq, in June, 2006.^[x]

On October 2, 2009, in Fort Lewis, Watada was discharged from the U.S. Army, having spend no time in jail for violating his contract, and two counts of "conduct unbecoming of an officer and a gentleman."

air

2010-07-24T14:10:00.009-10:00

It's sad.

It seems like I haven't commented your post in a while, as I had left you one a couple of weeks ago but it got deleted. Really sad. It was a great comment; witty, a bit nostalgic too.

I can't remember what I wrote. All I know is that I didn't want to leave you a "so, just left you a really heart-felt comment, but it mysteriously dissolved into the deep corners of the interweb, so...I miss you, kbye." Those always leave me feeling so sad. Like, I wonder what was said...what would it have meant to me? Would it have inspired me? But it's gone. So. Huh.

I shouldn't write Blogspot comments to any of you while I'm at work. Seattle's Best does this strange thing to me. Strange, by which I add too much feeling to instances, or memories, that are devoid of a second thought, and rightfully so. Maybe it's the copious amounts of caffeine that makes the electricity in my brain surge from synapse to synapse, fabricating an emotional response that is meaningless, artificial.

I actually feel quite guilty, right now, as if this fanciful, imaginary spewing of words have no consequence. Neither in my brain, or in your effort. It ends up as poetry, or even worse, thoughts of a 26 year old faux-French philosopher sloppily jotted down on a napkin, or a Molskine; air.

I don't want to leave you air. Not with all that we had. I don't want to fill this gap (that is a gap, a real, deep chasm that exists between our persons physically, in our experience, our thoughts, goals, and hope) with air.

You are more than that.
We were more than air.

Even if, right now, you can't see it.

You don't know where it is, where it went, or even know where it's going.
You just know that you felt it.

You felt it and it moved you.

when I'm brushing; showering; shaving

2010-07-19T22:28:00.001-10:00

the world at large

2010-07-15T22:38:00.004-10:00

Lately, I have been caught off guard with feelings that come sporadically. Some familiar, others foreign, nostalgic, and also, very new. I want to explain them, yet words always seem to fall short of the kind of metaphysical nonsense tend to spew out.

I'll try anyway:

-Thinking that you figured out, at least in part, God, life, and love.

-Waking up early and meeting friends at a diner for breakfast.

-Knowing what you are passionate about.

-Realizing that you have the means to grasp and accomplish it.

-Remembering that you deeply love your family.

-Driving home.

With these words come theories and explanations, contexts and conversations that have been had, are taking place, and will occur. This list is made up of these words that are connected to ideas that belong to memories, which shape world views, and carve out concepts.

They belong to you and to me.

Be it Quantum Physics, or our distance, relative patterns, or the seemingly relentless nature of our connectedness a page out of Chaos Theory, they are all ours, and they shape us, and as it appears to occur, the world at large.

regarding stacks

2010-06-17T04:57:00.008-10:00

It is five in the morning and I am still awake. I have an urge to write, and in this I have decided to tell you about what has been occupying my thoughts, and taking up space in my prayers, conversations, and soft whimpers to myself:

I feel like a part of me is dying

and something new is being born,

because I am remembering that

all that remains is love.

9,265 frames

2010-04-22T16:46:00.008-10:00

Below are the story boards that I have made a month, or so, ago.

I finally finished my final video project that corresponds to it. The project involves the telling of the Gospel Story without using any Biblical or religious language.

This retelling involves Creation, Sin/Conflict, Redemption, and Resolution/Conclusion.

The three characters in this film are: Buildings, Automobiles, and Trees.

I also use Light/Darkness to illustrate the Biblical concept of Love and Evil.

Since it's due later on, tell me what you liked/didn't like so that I might improve.

Scroll down to view the final project.

the soundtrack of my life

2010-03-24T14:56:00.002-10:00

I have compiled a list of fifteen albums that have shaped and, in ways, informed my concept of self, or world view, throughout the years of my life thus far.

During much careful contemplation, on a Wednesday's trek back home from class, I meticulously constructed this list in my head, while being reminded of particular and remarkable "eras" that have expressed the conceptual embodiment of my soul at that specific point in time, ex. 8th grade - punk rock phase - faux-rebellion = Brand New.

(In no particular order)

.

frames

2010-02-07T14:00:00.005-10:00

The sketches below are my first attempts at story boarding. This particular story that I'm...boarding...is for my Communications and Media class on the metanarrative, and sharing the Gospel, assuming that it in itself is a metanarrative, without using any Biblical or religious language/symbolism. I'm preparing to make a short film using these scenes. It will not feature any dialogue, just music.

I am debating between:

1) Idoiteque - Radiohead
2) Kid A - Radiohead
3) So Long, Lonesome - Explosions

So far I have a Set-up, Conflict, Redemption and Resolution.

I am missing the third set of scenes, which is supposed to depict redemption, most importantly, and is ironically the hardest for me to formulate.

Can you tell what I'm trying to convey?

More is to come.

Any ideas?

the anniversary rides a journey's whim

2010-01-25T21:04:00.009-10:00

The month of June marks the anniversary of my relationship with the beloved Blogspot. This June we make five years. In the past few days I've been feeling quite nostalgic, leading me to act upon my propensity for reading former blog posts - there are 121 in total!

Surely, as I read each sentence, somewhat sloppily spewed out during my teenage years (of faint promiscuity - all too slow-fading), I expect some sort of warm-n-fuzzy wave of enlightenment to pass over me.

It doesn't come.

So anyway, as I read line by line, pressing onward through major grammatical errors, grand misspellings and naive, misinformed ideologies, I found myself slightly embarrassed at the person I represent in those posts.

Are you embarrassed of yourself at fourteen? Fifteen, or even seventeen? Maybe if I continue to read the ancient scrolls of my past I'd have a little more patience and a little more understanding for those who are in progress:

Patience for me, basically.

Although my early attempts of eccentric-intellectualism severely lack substance, it sure is entertaining to read. I believe that that's the nature of life; retrospect will usually prove us wrong and provide us a laugh. I am also glad that my God believes in trial and error.

I have been putting much effort into experimenting with my voice, both in writing and on stage. I am still unsure of what is suiting, or what needs to end; quickly die and cease; to capsize the inauthentic shi[t]p so that I may sail on into the right direction. To an effect, I believe all of us are on some sort of journey in these things, and I think that I have found myself making lasting footprints through what I have written, or spoken, into people's memory. Friendly footprints - not likely - but footprints nonetheless.

This onward progression, that I'm fortunately able to reflect on through my lovely Blogspot, is a bittersweet and hilarious reminder to me that I am, and will be, okay. I have even noticed that I often end my posts with that reminder. To myself, or to the reader - I'm not sure - but I hope that in the midst of all of these changes, that this is something that will never change:

I am okay

I wish the same for you.

the vocal-centric aesthetic

2010-01-07T17:26:00.011-10:00

The pen is powerful, or so I have perceived from the ancient scribes and scholars from centuries outstretched; preserving historical narrative or even changing its course. The tongue is fire, or so I have felt from certain individuals who have ignited a passion in my belly, moving my soul in action, nonetheless, also burning me in this literal symbolism.

From the Sermon on the Mount to the Gettysburg Address, tablets of the Law to inscriptions on coffins or an esophagus, the word, both written and spoken, is a major proponent in human history. It is the fire upon Rome and that which causes air-balloons to rise, destroying and lifting; both healing and providing opportunity for regeneration, closure.

Some believe that we, those participating in this current culture, abuse the language in new ways, and to no end. I could say that some believe that we rape the English language and curb communication as a spiteful neo-Nazi would do to certain undisclosed individuals.

I believe music is like this, film as well - in fact all of art. Maybe this is why art is always at the forefront of culture, uninhibited and pushing boundaries with loaded messages as a subtle precursor to current events.

I think Jesus knew this. Paul too. They were excellent storytellers and world-changing communicators. As I reflect on speaking words to my high school students and their reception and/or retention of them I have come to realize that most of what is remembered are the things that manage to connect with what's currently preoccupying their mind. I'm not sure why I haven't realized this earlier, since we are all some what ego-centric and self-absorbed.

I guess that's why the words context, story, illustration, narrative, joke are all vital to communication, yet not just conveying a message but telling a compelling tour de force story every time. I think communication done in this manner grabs a hold of an individual and connects them with the story, having them assume meanings, emotions, point-of-view and various other links that make lasting ties on even the synapses and neurotransmitters within.

So in the midst of all these thoughts and ideas of the significance of words, what are we to do? We always hear that "talk is cheap," or "the best way to preach the Gospel is with your life." I believe in that. Yes, I am all for that. However, I believe that the words that we use in speech and in writing should mimic those actions (however they might appear). In fact, it is very hard to separate the two.

I am so glad that we are focusing on the way in which we live. I just don't want us to forget those parts from James' letters, Paul's and the words of Jesus. To remember the significance of our words and the impact they have on the world - no matter how big or small that world is.

I don't want us to lose, or to waste, in this vocal-centric aesthetic.

all along

2009-12-28T16:15:00.003-10:00

I hate to be the dramatic one. I'm not talking about the person who makes a big deal out of nothing and seems to stir up emotions in vain, but, instead, that guy who is constantly dreary and gazing out of the window; the one who is too introspective and the one who sighs too often. I think that guy has too much time on his hands, too much coffee in his system. I want to be real. I want people and events and feelings and actions and every other thing in this world to be weighed according to their substance. I don't want to be preoccupied with meaningless words and fillers, I don't want to be consumed with myself or absorbed with the reality I wish to create for myself.

I believe that real people are level-headed, well-rounded and grounded to that which truly exists. So I have a question: How can one who believes in God be this level-headed, well-rounded and grounded individual? How am I and how are we supposed to live in this world and be an influence of goodness and light when our ways do not seems very even, equal or balanced? As extremists and fundamentalists, even "Nazis," how do we coexist? In this culture we are the dramatic one. I feel that as people find out I believe in God, I brand myself and people cannot help but see me in a different light, even some Christians. I am then automatically holding up a sign, going to the Capitol to rally for my beliefs without relent - the absolute ones, that is. Is this logically fallacious? Is this the "slippery slope," or hyperbole? Not to me, and not anymore.

I don't know how to live, and so I am afraid to move. I don't know what to speak or how to say it, so therefore no word leaves my mouth - for God, outside of church, and this has become a bigger problem than I thought.

Let's not have a conversation about this. Let's not submit a plan. Let's not speak forth a vision.

I think that I just need Jesus, and maybe that's what it's been all along.

2009-12-13T01:01:00.002-10:00

Sometimes I am in two places. In the first I am air,
made of immaterial substance and breath.
In a body of water, second, I am afloat near a dock, while in the bay
with two arms up, awake - I lie unfolded.

Do I exist here? Because it has me spewing,
saying and slewing words which have no particular swing.
The moments decide and the axes fall without mention.
And leave without future lips to speak of their ruin.

2009-12-11T22:19:00.001-10:00

I wonder if a person can spread themselves too thin, in a world-wide-web sense. See: I have a Blogspot, a Tumblr account, a Facebook page, Myspace and it doesn't feel excessive - not a bit.

If a person were to observe the four avenues of my internet soul listed above, would they know me?

How much of what we put "online" really describes who we are and what we're like? Are the profile pictures all chosen to accentuate those gorgeous features that somehow only exist on the right side of your face? The ones that mixed with the right light, casts a perfect image of whom you want everyone to see, and to know as you.

What about the words? What about the statuses and all of what you say?

I wonder what Jesus thinks about all of this.

"He who posts Christian jargon on his Facebook and yet does not follow me cannot be my disciple."

i almost slipped into an alternate universe

2009-10-02T14:04:00.003-10:00

Like a scene from a book or movie I was all alone in Starbucks, typing away at my laptop. I was waiting for a friend to come so I kept looking at the door every time somebody would walk in - though actually this is a habit of mind anyway, regardless if I'm waiting for someone.

But in this universe it was you. You came in, walking quickly and sitting down discreetly. You said "hey" but it was the kind of "hey" mumbled as if you were just with me. As if we were only a part for five minutes and you had to drop something off at in the mail depot or buy stamps at Longs. So anyway, you said "hey" and kind of watched your fingers pick the remnant of paint off of their nail-beds. You looked aside you and turned your body toward the cashier - fakebestfriend was working. You noticed. You said "hey," again, yet in that sort of way we have been saying "hey" for years, but for strange things like greeting one another when looking pretty disheveled, or when you see a prossie-eqsue fembot flauntin' or when a random Jew would appear as if YHWH has just picked up some dirt and blew. "Oh hey" I would say. I'm not sure what we would talk about. I'm not so sure why you were here or how long you were staying.

It was just really indie because I came back, inhaling hard. And here I was. I was sitting in Starbucks amidst a giant and seemingly endless sea of teens groping each other for meaning and purpose. I sat here and I thought of you, and you and you and you. You. I was reminded of myself in high school. Not much different than I am now. Yet totally different. Thinking about it, I still want the same things. I still feel the same and think the same. My internal monologue voice is the same.

Maybe I'm Kevin from the Wonder Years. Maybe I'll look back at these years when I'm 35 and cry all of the time because things were so right. But they are so wrong. Though I think that thing's will never really be right. Maybe I'll find myself suspended in those little moments of light when everything is aligned. I'll be whole, centered and true.

Maybe you'll find me and I'll be singing, singing a little tune.

One day I would like to live in a tiny place.

2009-09-23T17:02:00.022-10:00

I'm not talking about a little house or a small space
or anything physical.
What I mean is that I'm hoping to have a lot of shared territory.

This territory could
take the form of memories, laughter, questions - definitely coffee
and conversation.

Maybe I will have a wife

and we will spend our time traversing between lands.
After some time and some climb we find ourselves later claiming these areas,
sanctioning them with little flags that we call Grace and Understanding.

Maybe I will have a few friends
with deep, deep souls.

They might have very detailed maps of these
parts and we could go on walks
together,
excavating and
making discover ie s.

find each other
define one another.
move together

and nobody would ever leave.

*These pictures were taken in July 2009 driving to the North Shore with my friend Kevin, picking up our stranded friends Aley and Suzie.

everybody knows it.

2009-06-18T12:05:00.008-10:00

The dentist chair is awkward. All of the tissue paper crumpling at each square inch of your ass, making those noises, all shuffling and chafing. I've just had my first cavity filled today. I am kind of bummed because I enjoyed being able to pridefully say, "well...I've never had a cavity" in response to someone disgustedly contorting their face because it is somehow revealed that I only brush once a day. My mouth is also half numb. Along with my tongue. It is extremely awkward to run into people and especially order from le sbux. In the last forty-five minutes after leaving the dentist in town I've already ran into my cousin and old friend, both times explaining why I'm lisping horribly and smiling crooked. The other day a Seattle's Best customer, who was sitting down at a table, exasperatedly got up from her seat and made her way up to the counter. She was limping and being all awkward. So I, the great diffuser of awkwardness, made a friendly comment, "Oh, did your leg fall asleep?" "No." She shot back, "I had a stroke."

OH.

I see.

Nice, Landon. Real nice.

remember

2009-06-03T22:41:00.005-10:00

So I am lactose intolerant. Either that or I am a hypochondriac - like my sister, grandfather and his mother. Though slightly unsure of my status, I do believe that my body is going through some sort of strange metamorphosis. In to what? I'm not sure. I am really crossing my fingers that I do not become one of those annoying customers who forcefully request if there is dairy, whey, egg whites, peanuts or anything that had a face in their soup du jour. Please do not mistake me, their inquiry is entirely valid, it just seems a bit neurotic and excessive; something you roll yours eyes at. And that is just enough for me to want to avoid it.

I am sipping from a hot cup of ginger tea in my local town center Starbucks in hopes to alleviate reoccurring stomach issues of the week. I've just purchased a french press for my uncle's birthday - their third press sale from me in the past twenty or so days. Aaron, a barista who for months played multiple albums of Mariah Carey constantly and spent a recently ceased silent animosity towards me, made a joke that all of their merchandise goes to me. This is hardly true but humorous because they often sell their treasured syrups and scarce Kenya presses to me - usually at a partner discount too! I believe I know every barista there by name and I'm there so much I often wonder of what they think of me, who they think I am. Because I know the way of the barista: the smile, the speak and the weird vocal projection whilst calling out drinks at the bar. I really want to know them and I am closer to this than before. Maybe this is something God thinks I should do. Maybe this is a small part of being a lovenvoy. Could I show God's love by tipping? By being intentionally interested in conversation? By leaving before they close to save them awkward, "10 minutes left"? By remembering their names?

I am not sure, but I think so.

I do know that I am so glad to exist here, in this specific place and time. I feel privileged to know and to be known: I am in Christ. I am a member of a family. I am a friend. I am a collector of memories and rhythms, wisdom and knowledge, lyric and verse. I feel like these statements appear annually in my writing, a need to reestablish my identity and align myself to the person I am meant to be and whom I represent.

On this note, I feel drawn to share a bit about my recent conversations with Kenny through several revelations and heights and even fireworks. This is what he wrote to me:

"...if you really want to learn and grow into the person you need to be, you're going to have to learn from other pastors...I get the feeling it's something that is vital for where you're going and maybe something you should think about"

I appreciate this because it is true. I also appreciate this because I am prone to pride in who I am, disregarding a lot of methods, style and wisdom from great leaders and caring pastors because of some latent fear of losing myself to these things. And yes, maybe this could be a problem in excess, but really Kenny is right. And I haven't put my finger on it but I believe it is somehow tied to strange competency, identity and fulfillment issues. Though these are prevalent issues, these things all seem to fade away when I remember that I am in Christ and in Him I am truly, viciously and extraordinarily Landon Fucking Ajimura, lovenvoy to the nations. If Christians only remembered.

I guess through all of this I still come to the same place with the same conclusions. It is my aim to be a lover and a prayer in all essence, in all truth, all in Christ Jesus, for all of my days.

And I believe this is it.

The Inner Dwellings of an Outer Species Pt. 1

2009-04-30T15:10:00.007-10:00

On top of a great hill, at the foot of Diamond Head, near Kapiolani Community College stands Old Leahi Hospital. It's a quaint, ancient haunted mansion that manages to press on regardless of it's lessening trickle of patients and slowly decaying decorum. As a child, passing through the little streets that run parallel to the hospital was a experience of great wonder and fright; it was a place of mystery. I would hold my face up to the glass of the family car and peer through the gates, faded paint and black, mossy windows. I would wonder who, in their right mind, would admit a family member to this place. And passing through I would imagine dull, incandescent, flickering lights. Sagging, drooping, dripping geriatrics with no visitors, no friends, no flowers. There would be no conversation, just death and waiting.

Today I visited the haunted palace of my childhood. Pulling in the driveway was almost a confirmation of my suspicions as a child: less than twenty parking spaces and no other lot - are they not expecting many visitors? The lobby was dark and moist, my heart grew tired.
The receptionist responded,"506 and 305."
"Alright, thank you." 506...305... 506...305. 503? 306? No...

The number 506 corresponded to Phylis Nakamura. Brain tumor. Late 70's. Taurus. Cancer.
She's my grandmother's brother's wife and my mother's cousin's mother. She was diagnosed a couple of months ago and it didn't seem very serious, only headaches and nausea. She's a very strong woman, very talkative, always had one arm on her hip.
I walked down the bright corridor with large windows framing Diamond Head, perfectly, almost too beautifully for a place like this. The elevator took its time as it crept up and down the shaft very overtly, complaining about its old age and desire for retirement. Though intending to visit room 506 first, I found myself on the third floor. Phylis' son, Keith, is also a resident at Leahi. Uncle Keith is about forty-five years old, he was an avid skin diver and loved the ocean, fish and beer. I followed the signs, 303...304...305. Years ago, Uncle Keith had a stroke while diving in the deep blue ocean. He was miraculously rescued and he miraculously made a full recovery. A little while later he had another stroke. He did not recover and he is not in repair.

Keith is now a vegetable. He can do nothing independently except shift his eyes. He does breath on his own though he needs a feeding tube to eat. I walked into room 305 apprehensively, eyes fixed on a body stretched out upon a mobile wheelchair-bed. As I neared him, I began to reflect on a conversation I had with God on my way to Leahi: God, how can it be that Uncle Keith can think and process like me yet not be able to move and communicate? How frustrating it must be for him. Wouldn't it be better for him to just die? I would ask God at what point is a human being valuable. Am I valued and do I have rights because I can think, act and respond to other humans or am I valued because I merely exist?

I walked up to him and paused before speaking, he heard me anyway and shifted his eyes toward me. He looked confused. I smiled. "Uncle Keith, I don't know if you remember me but I'm Landon." More confusion."I'm Tammie and Scott's son." His face contorted and he let out a sort of gurgling nose - I could tell he remembered me and was glad. Our conversation was whole and natural, it was excellent considering that he didn't say a word. I would ask questions, wait and answer them, like I was writing a letter to a old friend abroad. We talked about previous parties, food and family picnics. I mentioned to him the last time I remember seeing him: we were at a beach house and I was no older than seven. My uncles were barbecuing and I stood next to the fire because it was cold. I remember Uncle Keith running up behind me and sweeping up off my feet and dangling me by the ankles near the fire. I screamed and we laughed.

Throughout our time together his face would contort itself and he'd let out a drawn out exhale/laugh. I would look into his eyes and know that he was trying to communicate with me. I know that he's there and speaking, I just can't hear. There were a few still moments of silence. I would look out of the window yet he wouldn't take his eyes off mine. I finally asked if I could pray for him. He didn't object. He would make loud noises as I prayed, again and again, I hoped that maybe he was praying too. As I was about to leave, I grabbed his arm and told him that I wanted to visit him again, I said that next time he sees me I won't look different again. It was then that the look in his eyes changed, it was more intense. His face creased in different places and water filled his eyes. I squeezed his arm, told him goodbye and left. Walking out of the door, I heard the nurse say to him: "Keith, why are you crying? Oh...Why are you crying, Keith?" I stopped, turned around and wanted to comfort him. I wanted to tell him that he's not alone and that he still has a purpose. I wanted to tell him that everything will be okay.

But would everything be okay?

morning comes in light

2009-04-11T23:54:00.012-10:00

During my 4am early morning drives to Waikiki at I do much thinking. I often think of my speed, how much time I'll have to sleep in my car once I park near the zoo, I wonder if it'll rain or if I'll have to be on the bar or maybe be the cashier for the duration of my shift. While I'm making drinks my mind is else where. I wonder what my friends are doing. I think how ridiculous it is for me to be in one place for eight hours doing the same thing. It is monotonous but I think it's just that that allows my brain to wonder, to wander.

In two minutes it will be Sunday. It will Easter Sunday. There is a lot of focus on Good Friday and Easter Sunday, but what about Saturday? While making a certain woman's Mocha today my mind thought about this particular Saturday. My brain spoke to my beloved espresso machine:

Today the disciples, well eleven of them, thought that Jesus was dead...for good. They had returned to their hometowns and got their jobs back. Peter folks were fishing again. Mary was probably at home, maybe with Mary two and three. They had all thought they were crazy and all had gone wrong.

It is ridiculous for me to think about the relationship Jesus had with His disciples. They did not understand what He was saying. Up until Jesus returned, they had thought that He was going to be the Jewish Messiah, the King of Israel, much like David and Solomon. They sought deliverance from Rome, Jesus brought deliverance from sin. They sought an earthly king, Jesus is the Eternal King.

On this day the wisdom of the world seemed to have triumphed with Jesus neatly tucked into His grave. The image of Jesus on the cross probably permanently seared in the minds of the Jewish leaders, thinking we did what was right, why does it still feel so wrong?

Today, centuries ago, Jesus waits in the womb of the earth. Waits to be resurrected. Waits to be victorious and waits to save us from our sins, delivering us from death.

It is now 12:13am, Easter Sunday. My brain churns ideas about being in the presence of God and what it will be like to say: "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty," and mean it. To say with my entire being: Oh my God, You are so set apart from me and from all of humanity. You are the only God and You are Lord of all things. What it will be like not to worship Him with just our words or just our actions but with all that we are.

i especially am slow

2009-04-06T14:18:00.005-10:00

Today I have made a resolution to escape. In my ears that sounds horrendously cliche in ways to be melodramatic then anticlimactic because: 1) people hardly ever really leave and 2) most of us don't thoughtfully have enough legitimate motive to do so.

But, today, I have "escaped."

"I don't know where I am, I don't know where I've been

But I know where I want to go"

I went to a little cafe/bistro in Kailua - and it is really Kailua-esque, if you could understand: Track-lighting, multi-cultural wall fixtures and chandeliers, artsy end tables and artsy-er white people. It is actually quite lovely. I am sipping my coffee and exhaling monumentally, making weird eye contact with a lesbian woman reading the paper to my left. The ceiling is high though the chandeliers are extremely low. I hid my head on the crystals and thought about possibly planting a church here. The people seem nice here in Kailua, and by "nice" I mean stopping frequently (and I mean frequently) on the road to let pedestrians cross with their pedestrian babies, yet maybe a little pretentious. I think everyone here does yoga. And is working on their master thesis. And drives a Prius.

So anyway, here I am all "escaped." I filled my iPod with new tunes in a new playlist and named it: highways. Highways was intentionally created to backdrop a day of introspection, reading, writing, blogging, eating and drinking- and driving, obviously, mostly. I have accomplished a few already:

Eating and Drinking: I had a White Gummi Bear (the huge, intense one) from Jamba and had a couple of pretzel things. I also plan to buy a panini or hummus wrap from le bistro, get 1304983 refills on my coffee.

Introspection: I have deeply" introspected" about church planting, my close relationships, bullying on the road through tailing, purity, open spaces, artsy people etc.

Writing: I always write, so this was easy. What I really want to accomplish is finishing some of my essays. This type of writing always meets me with much difficultly.

and Blogging: Voila!
--

This past week was the most busy, demanding and stretching week of my entire life. I am so ready to unwind and take this Spring break easy and light.

"So I thought I'd let you know
That these things take forever, I especially am slow
But I realized how I need you
And I wondered if I could come home"

2009-02-04T12:20:00.014-10:00

Have any of you ever wondered why in the top left it says: on some road or thin ice? If you noticed it before, I would like to hear what you thought it meant.

I'm staying in my cousin's cottage now - I am pretending that it is the Shack. I'm waiting for a hefty black woman to come and teach me something. I'm waiting for Jesus to hang out and show me around. I'm waiting for Sarayu to comfort me. I think what I enjoyed most about that book was its ability to give me such a natural affinity for the Godhead, then show me that they are all around. That God is real. Of course I had already known that, but there was something so personal in that book that was used to speak the context and content of Law, Prophets and Writings into my 21st century ears.

My dad read it. He said that it made him feel "light." "If that can even be a word used to describe how I feel..." He mumbled while smiling. That's how the Gospel makes me feel.

I was looking at one of my pictures from graduation day. It was a photo of my family surrounding me and my shoulders were laden with lei's. My mom is beautiful, my dad is very classic, he never changes, my brother is shorter, tan and has new glasses and my sister is always posing, always beautiful like my mom. I shifted my eyes to each of us, and then looked at the picture as a whole and I discovered something inside of me that wanted it to stay like that forever. I didn't want to move.

After the picture was taken we would disperse and talk to my extending family while I received more lei's. I would head to project grad and they would have a little party at my house. A couple of months later my closest friends would leave while some remained a little long until it was just two. Time would go by, my sister would go to high school, my brother middle school. She would get a boyfriend, Daniel would finally see Suzie, and she remembered him. Aley and Kevin discover something new, that was actually kind of old, borrowed and blue. Noelle would make plans and come back and forth. KLANzz traveled. I would finally move out and meet a girl.

The flash of the camera that night sealed a very significant moment in time.

It's been about four months now that I've moved out of my parent’s house - not very long, but it seems like it. It's been about a month now that I've been dating Rhonda - not very long, but it seems like it. I see my parents more now, I spend a lot more quality time with them, it's kind of funny. Sometimes I even put off my friends to be with my family. Isn't that just the strangest thing to hear me say? Reading where I was in November 2007 doesn't necessarily seem to far off of where I am today. I know much more about myself and the world around me. I know that I am not this affectionate romantic guy I thought I was in 2007. I am not very good at affirming or consoling Rhonda when she is sad or angry - I am working on this.

But I do know that as these weeks keep passing with great haste, I am becoming a little more understanding, a little more loving, a little more willing and so much more ready to take on this life which has been so graciously set before my feet.

Kamuela 2006

Graduation 2007

Christmas 2008

November 10th 2007

2009-01-30T12:10:00.000-10:00

Being alone in this house does strange things to me! I am more, like, idk, indie or something! haha. or maybe i've just been watching too many movies (filmzz ((if i'm being consistent with my indie character)) i mean) For example after I got done with work (setting up church, which is work, like literally and figuratively, but calling it 'work' fits a lot better with my story) and i went on the mspace, which i guess isn't so indie. but i put on norfolk and western, that song 'the longest stare' it's on the aeroplane mix. and i stood there in the semi dark and took off all of my clothes and went in the bedroom and took a tub bath.

haha, i always think tub baths are cool, unless you're trying to be a bad azz MAYN. then they are kind of girly. so anyway, i was in there like pouring steaming water to clean myself and it was really funny. i felt like idk, weird. and i vacuumed and made myself some food or something. but anyway, being alone in this house does strange things to me.

and i was just reading my old blogspot comments, primarily the ones that you have sent me. and it's weird because for so long i wanted to move out of here. and for so long i didn't appreciate my family or my surroundings or just the simplicity of my room. and now i feel like i do. and it's strange because i'm not moving out anytime soon. and usually you would feel those things if you were. you know? it's strange. but i guess i am glad!..? yeah, i think i am. i mean i still want to move out, but i perfectly understand why God has me here now.

i want to read 'mother night' again. i just read the comment you left, when you found out about resi!! haha, such a coy mistress. TO HIS COY MISTRESS! remember those journals of poetry and stuff from the 17-19th century i had to do for english last year? i think those were a few of my favorite assignments. i love literature. i don't think that i show it, or want to show it, or able to show it. i just know that there is something about words that i truly adore. what are words anyway? i think words are the spirit. the definition of our souls. yet actions are too. so i'm not so sure.

i've been doing these things, where i've been like laying in bed, or sitting somewhere quiet. and i think about one topic and try to figure it out. it's partially successful. yet i don't actively recall any of my findings. so does that mean that it's void? caleb, pastor mike's son does devotions now. i asked him what God has been teaching him, and he shrugged and smiled. so in the same way, is that void? for some reason or another, i think it is still valid. maybe the way our brains are wired is like a huge library of thoughts and information. so the spotlight of mind is only upon a few random things, and has a constant illumination of the very important things, like speech and numbers. which would explain retards and handicapped and such because their illumination is off.

i would be pissed if this was all destroyed or like the battery ran out.

haha, i semi apologize because this is what i've been putting Jesus through lately. it's nice though, i think He enjoys it. i hope you do too!

we'll i'm off to grab some dinner with some company! i love company. i am made for people.

i discovered my childhood dream the other day. i was fixated on it because of it's supreme importance as of late in my life and i believe, in the lives of every joyful person.
my childhood dream is to be in front of people. maybe on a stage? idk. but all i know, is that i've always wanted to be for people. God made me for people. so basically i am MADONNA. not like mary, but like guy pierce madonna. we ARE born on the same day, so idk?

haha, but i hope you're okay. i am okay here, now.

i love you, and i'll talk to you soon,

+landon

2008-11-04T15:45:00.006-10:00

091108
I will have to say that I have been pretty gone for the last month or so. I am not sure that it is completely school or my work schedule, or even study festivals.
101108
Good evening and greetings from Honolulu!
I hope you know that I am plagued with tremendous guilt on account of my two-month absence from the Blogspot.
---

On my makeshift desk I have three picture frames with three photos in them.
The first picture is framed in white, standing longways, capturing my family on Christmas eve probably in 2005 or something. My brother and sister are still very young and I have those pretend bangs - if you know what I'm talking about. My parents look the same. I think they'll always look the same forever.

The second picture is framed in wood and holds the picture of the guys at the top of the Grand Canyon. We all look like we're hiking Mt Everest - except Kev, because he be BAMF status. Kenny has his eyes closed and David looks like he's going in to peck Alex. Chris has shades on wit a bamf-dana [bandanna, you wankstaz]. I look like a Hun. [reference]

My third is a Polaroid, appropriately. It's the picture of KLANzz at A's house on her stairwell. I think nobody likes that picture except L & A. N looks like a Indian. K looks like it's his first time with KLANzz, was it? And zz is a bird again. The picture is dated 1/20/06!
[ch-k it owwt]
-
There were many times in this season where I felt so scattered and disgruntled. I remember holding those moments caught in frame, so close to my little heart and letting out a sigh of joy, thanking God for His love made manifest in those He has placed around me. It was almost like I held in my hands a sign of His salvation, evidence of His promise hidden in the intimacy of true relationship.

We must be caught up in pure wonder as we behold the glory and love of Christ being slowly revealed through all of creation.

But we do not know this. We do not behold His glory. We do not know His holiness. Instead we try to attain something just like it. We take on a form of godliness but we deny it's power. We ignore statements that read: any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple. We call it hyperbole.

What if everything Jesus said was true?

My God, what if we are being deceived?

Today is the acceptable day to die. Today is the day of salvation. I sound like a cult leader!

You guys,
I am so convicted about my disobedience towards God. Yet I am so sure of Jesus. We have bet our entire lives on Him.

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus, my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith - that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

AHHHBHHAHAHAHAHHA!

I think it's at this point where we can really, really be lost in awe and wonder, in such gratitude of God in the setting sun, how the moon gets huge when it is close to the horizon. In every person and in the heart of each disciple, the high mountains and the clouds that engulf its peaks with billowy arms. Man oh man. This is it - falling in love with Jesus.

Can that be it?! Knowing the Jesus of untold worth?

Jesus Christ

So, let's begin to move these.

Dear friends,

2008-08-02T02:05:00.008-10:00

I am back!

It's so strange how we all neglect posting yet find ourselves on the constant return. I have just returned from a little self-crisis, one which I wasn't even aware of. It's crazy how there are so many things happening to us, in us, around us and through us. It's easy to get lost in them. Being focused scares me to death - here's why: we are prodded to death until we are "focused" individuals. Focused in school or with family, on a certain problem or system. Focused on getting a degree or making people happy, even focusing on how to be focused. A lot of the time for me, I seem to get focused too easily yet drift even more so. The end result being me a hell of a lot driven towards a place I don't necessarily want to be but I can't tell because all I can see is what's in front of me.
Thank God my self crisis is over. Conclusion: screw being focused on anything that IS NOT THE LORD. I mean this literally.

Lately I have found myself in these places:
1. Driving in my new car blasting some tunes.
2. Snoozing in my old sleeping bag dreaming some dreams.
3. Sipping some Pikes Place in sbx.
4. Conversing in my future(bahaha) house with arex, husti or suz.
5. Barist[o]ing in sbc making some cashmoney.
6. Meetingx2309834 in Le Off 5th praying some plans.
7. Partying in random country clubz with some fam.

You guys, I want to be with you all of the time. I've been thinking a lot about marriage again. But not in that real unhealthy way, like I used to... But really. Haha. I've been talking to everyone a lot about what that's going to be like and how I'm going to officiate in all of your weddings. I found a song [everything past this point was written 080408 6:04 - I was trying to figure out the song I am talking about and I seriously spent an hour trying to find it, but failed and went to sleep fat and sassy.] that I want to play at my reception right after the slow dancing part with my wife and everybody dances: Young Rascals - A Girl Like You. (It should be playing in the background).

So as of a few hours ago, I had a meeting with my new general manager, Marc Dote, I am going to start working in a cafe in Waikiki. I am excited and glad yet so scared out of my mind. They offered me a position as assistant manager but I found out that requires me to work like 30-40 hours a week. That will be difficult with school and the internship so I might take the next one down which is a 'Shift Lead' - 25 hours a week. I have no idea what that entails, but whatev. Apparently if you work in Waikiki you go home with like $30 in tip and get pay raise from the west stores because everything costs more down there! The drive there is the only con but since my car has pretty good mileage it should be okay. I also said I'd work early mornin' shifts. So I start this Wednesday at 6:30AM. Oh God. Does that mean I have to wake up at like 4:30? Haha, I'm hoping this is the beginning of a healthier sleeping schedule and less time screwing around with papers. I'm not only aiming for 'cute' but a greater sense of determination in what I do, both in school, work, NHMwork, family, friends and myself.

PRAY FOR ME OR I'LL DIE.

That's pretty much the update of my life as of late. If you're far, I miss you. If you're near, I miss you. If you're my wife, I miss you. If you're God, I miss you most.

It's strange to me that as we walk this earth, the passing years become a process of elimination to discovering what really matters.

I am finding more and more that God and His plan, as well as the people that set around me are of supreme meaning and value. That careers, cars and criticisms are slowly passing away and real Light is being revealed. I am immersed in the things of this world and honestly, sometimes I find myself found in them. I want to want to be revealed in Jesus Christ alone. And I know He's working on it.

So who's with me?

It's You.

2008-06-30T01:05:00.004-10:00

Today there was probably fifteen or less people in Zeo. I've stopped taking numbers to heart a couple of years ago, but I am sort of confused. I am in a new season with God. A time of death and journey towards life being sifted by His Word and Spirit. During our Wednesday meeting I told the leaders that if they are not willing to glorify God by serving Him with all of their hearts then don't come back next week. I questioned my salvation two weeks ago. I challenged Zeo these past two Sundays to examine themselves and see if they are being deceived and worshiping their own idea of God rather than God Himself. This morning at the end of service, I prayed two prayers: one for Zeo at large and another for those who are willing to count everything as loss for Christ and the cross. I cried during the latter. It might of been the first time they saw me cry.

I am confused because more people should have been there. Not because of MY message but because God asked us a question. They all need to be asked that question. Why did God choose those fifteen or less? He knows that many, if not, majority of them aren't seeking Him with their whole hearts.

It is an intense thing to believe in the sovereignty of God with all of one's being. To believe that He chose and called those who came because they were ready. I will not ignore these thoughts because I don't understand, nor will I put off or back down. Some how though, there's a peace that I have in this. My hope is that the fifteen or less heard and examined and were challenged and were terrified and will now turn from their sins and freaking die to themselves. That they will seek after God with their whole hearts.

I'm sorry that this post is kind of awkwardly honest and not very poetic or snazzy. It's sort of a note-to-self kind of thing. Plus I'm terrified of greater things than your wrath or the withholding of your comments!! :))

But folks really, I am so terrified.

I am so terrified that I will turn away and not run after God tomorrow, in the next hour.

I am so terrified that He won't speak to me or challenge me or convict me.

I am so terrified that I am worshiping something that isn't the Lord again.

Yet folks, more so, I am in love.

I am in love with God.

I am in love with the fact that I asked myself if I was in love with God and I became terrified because my heart wasn't given over to Him completely. Thus I couldn't say I was in love with God whole hearted, until now.

I am in love with the fact that in that moment, grace was shed upon my soul.

I am in love with who I am in God.

I am in love with my boasting brothers and sassy sisters.

I am in love with our crazy and sometimes dumb community.

I am in love with God's voice, though not more than I am in love with Him.

I am in love with His will, even though I am in transition from a big coward that seeks his own.

I am in love with the Holy Spirit who seals and secures me by faith.

I am in love with Yeshua, Jesus Christ.
--

Some how the feelings I associate with the things I wrote in this post don't match with the feelings I have now. This feels cheap and light.

I will not put a picture up or play a song for this post. I'm not so sure why but I think it has lots to do with me finding my praise, my acceptance and all of my delight in God.

Haha, I don't know how those that action corresponds to praise and acceptance, but whatev.
--

My friends. Brothers and sisters, let us now seek God and throw everything else away. All hindrances aside, okay? We talk too much. Let us do this with our mouths shut and hearts open wide. Oh my God, pour out the urgency. Pour out the conviction. Pour out Your Spirit.

We are ready.

because i find love in your eyes.

2008-06-12T18:40:00.001-10:00

Lately, I've been doing a lot of sitting and thinking. A lot of taking deep, deep breaths that end in quick exhaling and quicker resolutions to get up and do something significant. I wonder what is in people like me that are driven to do things that are meaningful, of top priority. Could it be the mere 'NF' amidst my highly personalized 'ENFJ?' I seem to always chase this dream of importance, so important that I drop everything else. Consequently because of the extreme polar magnetism of my soul, I might press to hard, or go too far or talk to much then maybe neglect other things that are of "less" significance. For example, my family during my last two years of high school, my education throughout all my years of high school, My sleep/sanity to be with friends, now ministry in order to be with family.

In the cult film 'Donnie Darko', there's a scene where he hallucinates and sees a sort of blueish energy umbilical cord type of thing coming out from his stomach that connects itself to things. I feel like I have that same thing, but it's my soul and it wants so much to connect to something of grand significance and utter supreme importance - yet it needs to be tangible, I need to see it. I'm coming to a real intense realization about my umbilical chord. How I used to connect it to myself, to girlfriends, then on to my title, a few years later my gifting, then my ministry, then my just recently my calling, my future, to "pastor Landon", on to "Shepherd Landon of Chinese waters who speaks the truth and leads HIS (Landon's) people to reality and salvation while planting more churches to bring salvation to America and become really rich yet doesn't care about money but secretly wants to look really nice and dandy to impress people and prove the ones who didn't believe in him and take his parents on nice trips and have a lot of children who carry on HIS legacy and then he dies to go to heaven to God who is like "son, you knew Me, but you sought yourself and your future, not Mine. you were a leader, but you weren't a leader of Mine. You were seeking yourself and your kingdom. You have no place with Me because here only one kingdom stands. And it is not yours. "

Just this really, really ugly stuff about me seeking myself.

Over this past month, from just before California up until now God has been preaching a sermon against me. He had been quietly rebuking me and my ways that warred against His. It's ridiculous how reluctant we are to renounce everything for Him. We say, or at least I said over and over, "Lord I have given everything you for You, I will even die for you." As He says quietly, "you say these things yet before the morning comes you will deny me with your choices and actions over and over again." We are startled. The morning comes and we have crucified Him. And Jesus dies.

What can we do to see God's love enough to move us from our high places? What do we need to do to be like that guy who sold everything he had because he found something so precious in someplace so unexpected? What does it take to find love and everything we need in the eyes of Jesus? What will it take to become that generation that seeks His face above all else?

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

So friends, let's take a deep breath,
let's die to ourselves and let's the dance like hell out of this place.

Ps. When you hear the song playing right now, listen for the second chorus and beyond, because you can hear "cause...I...find...love..." in the background. It's very covert! I thought that was neat. So take care.

" i want so badly to believe that there is truth, that love is real"

2008-06-04T17:45:00.005-10:00

I've been thinking a lot about George Harris lately. He's the one who put carnations in gun barrels during a protest at the Pentagon. I've been thinking about peace and love, hope and faith and if these things are evident in my life. In the 'Only One' music video by Yellowcard, there are many scenes in which these young people are protesting and standing up for what they believe in. They meet face to face a blockade of military men as a fog machine pumps out obscurity during their protest. In tribute to George Harris, someone puts flowers in the men's rifles while a girl blows bubbles towards their opposition. It's here if you want to see it:

I have to admit after I watch this I am pretty pumped to go flower power extreme and wear tie-dyed attire to stomp out darkness and injustice. It's amazing how these demonstrations move us (or me at least) - even staged ones. Though, on the other hand these movements are so romantic. I was talking to my friend who is majoring in the direction of justice and we discussed the legitimacy of protests, signatures and signs - basically the radical and seemingly authentic "voice of the people." We talk a lot about love and peace as if these two things were ever won by hoards of barefooted people or a barrage flowers.

I think about Christians talking, Buddhists being nice, Muslims praying and all the while everyone else is either angry, apathetic or on drugs. Where are the peace-makers? Where have all the meek gone? Kurt Vonnegut, in his last book A Man Without A Country said something so spectacular, "you see everywhere Christians plead to put up the Ten Commandments all watery-eyed, why haven't they ever thought to put up the Beatitudes?"

I am talking about myself in these affairs above. I ask myself: What do you care about? What is important? I think a lot about materialism being the big problem but I'm so sure that it's just a branch off of the large oak that we have planted- a great vine of self-centered personal gain.

So when I say the word "love" I want to speak it in violence. More so to live it in volumes.

It seems so obvious to want to march in the streets and hold up a banner over me, over you over us. We do these things and think we are so accomplished yet after we are done we ignore those who are a little socially awkward, those we think might be a little demon possessed. We march in the roads preaching a great vision, and yet shrink back when it requires a lot effort and a little of our time.

So, let be us those who seek God and love Him. Let us be those who simply, so simply bless others for Him and His glory.

For as the earth brings forth its sprouts, and as the garden causes what is sown in it to sprout up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to sprout up before all the nations.

[Isaiah61:11]

post 100.

2008-05-08T15:58:00.009-10:00

I've been doing a lot of thinking and re-examining of my life. I feel as if I should have come to a conclusion like, "I need to step down for a while" or "I am leaving the ministry and heading to the the forest for a while."

The only conclusion I've come to is that I need God so much closer.

I guess where ever I do go, that's where I will be.

I've been talking to so many people who feel this way too. Though we speak of some capacity of being filled, I'm not so sure that we can ever be filled.

What I want is Christ. And I want to want Him. I want to want to want Him more. Even though this should cause me to have a stroke, I know that He loves me - not even because of what I just said - just because.

Maybe when we really let ourselves fall into this sort of Love. This rapturing force of all things existing in Him and through Him.

We need to ask, "can I really throw everything I am into You? Do I trust You? Who are You?"

I believe that He desires us to question Him, to wrestle and seek. It's then, with all of our being and all of our essence being thrust towards Jesus that we are finding Him. In turmoil, in struggle, in loneliness, in triumph! lets pour ourselves out before God.

How stubborn, ignorant, poor, wretched, empty, naked and blind we are, to taste His love and turn the other way. To not give all that we are, all that we have and not to have any other response but to be on your knees. How can we not be on our knees?

Do you really know God?

Why are you here? and how do you live?

Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus the Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith that depends on faith - that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death, that by any means possible attain the resurrection from the dead.

[phil 3:8-11]

deconstruction.

2008-05-03T02:36:00.005-10:00

There's something about the night that I am totally ecstatic about. I've always enjoyed it much more than I have the day. Maybe it's my youth that is captured by the lights of the evening. The magnetic pull of my peers mechanically putting on the best clothes, getting in the steamy showers, applying make-up, staring into the mirror while arranging our hair into the perfect position.

I don't know about you, but sometimes in my head I anticipate venturing out onto starry nights as if it was the red carpet. Sipping coffee real sly and with attempts of rico-suave action that always seem to fail horrendously. There is great folly in our youth - yet even old age; our existence. While smoking cigars, imagining exactly what you look like in your own music video.

This confrontation is hilarious to my mind, detrimental to my soul!

Or - in a phase of my Aaron Weiss-esque social promiscuity laced with hints of being a down-to-earth-lover-of-YHWH (we don't say Jesus aloud, just YHWH) yet having the air of a classy crack practitioner. You know what I am talking about. Let's not forget Sufjan and pre-apostatized pedro the lion. We are breaking the image of the j-j-jesus chrisitan, the all nice and pretty republican, with a glued on smile. We choose to embrace...Rob Bell? Don Miller?

What exactly are we turning into?

What about being a pastor? What's that process all about? If I were to choose, what would I say and how would I speak it? What clothes would I wear - did my collar cause constraint in ways?

The Holy Spirit is prompting an extensive deconstruction.

So, with a little prayer of examine:

Who are you?

2008-04-07T12:13:00.006-10:00

I feel like I have just returned from the grave!

I've been really screwing up my sleeping schedule and my school life in order to build up my relationships with others. It is worth it. Even all of you across the sea, which I strive -yet fail - mostly to retain. I've been going to the hospital a few more times than ever, recently. There's something very special about places like that: hospitals and airports. I wonder if it's because of the arrivals and departures of both? Like some sort of sacred meeting place between the physical and ethereal? Something seems to draw me to that place. There's this cool ( literally cool as in cold) feeling that comes over me when I think about it. Something new or exciting, though unfamiliar. I used to get that same feeling about being some fancy writer - which I have now fully come to the realization that I probably could have never become such a wordsmith as I have dreamt - without exhaustively and unnaturally forcing it. I think I get that same feeling when dreaming about my pastoral-loveship. Although, not as exciting, more grounded, firm, more warm or something. I'm not sure which is better or genuine or whatever. I'm not so concerned.

It is an extremely exciting thing when people become fully realized - as much as we know - in their calling, both personally and corporately. It's intensely thrilling to see what someone is becoming and the journey in transition to their potential.

Twist your head around it's all around you, all is full of love, all around you

Being an unofficial pastor right now is wonderful. The essence of the word being characterized by consistently shepherding by words and rod but also stooping and holding. I absolutely love it. Even ex officio-ly. The necessity of a relationship is such a beautiful thing.

I've been wanting to talk to strangers a lot more lately. I don't know how they are going to respond, or how to even go about this new adventure. I will keep you posted.

But anyway, with all of that said, I am glad to be journeying with all of you towards the goal and upward call of God.

Either realized fully or only in part, yet always moving towards perfection,

landon

2008-03-07T14:47:00.013-10:00

Recently I stood next to one of my good friends during a worship service. This friend, four months ago, had done something that could ruin his ministry, his position as a leader and maybe even his life for a while. He told me these things before the time of worship and praise and I got to pray with him. As we were standing there, I felt such an affirmation from the Lord with such cool vindication as he lifted his hands. There was a song, a kind of modern edgy version of 'Amazing Grace'. The stanza went:

Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me
Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away

I have heard that song many times before and even focused on the significance of it. But time, knowing exactly how my brother felt as the weight and guilt racked him, the lies that said, you will never serve God again, you are not worthy. You are worthless now and the whole course of your life will change because you're an idiot, a true believer would never do this. As he lifted his hands and sang, I, standing a few feet away from him could feel the grace that had just descended. The beauty of redemption and just how amazing that love is.

The next song went:

How lovely is Your dwelling place
Oh Lord Almighty, for my soul longs
And even faints for You
Oh, here my heart is satisfied
Within Your presence, I see beneath
The shadow of Your wings

Better is one day in Your courts
Better is one day in Your house
Better is one day in Your courts
Than thousands elsewhere

I have also heard this song so many times but it was such a delight, such a revelation!
God, how is it that I can come and worship You in Your courts? How after I have warred against You and disobeyed You and constantly forget You? You are amazing, God.

The reason why my friend was so scared was the possibility of his calling being revoked and not being able to serve God anymore. I didn't realize this, but there is such a strong force in our hearts - even our entire beings - that long to serve the Lord. The joy and satisfaction of bringing Him all of the glory. And I believe that is true worship.

True Worship, in which the world is pushing against you so violently yet the desire to love and give all of yourself to God is stronger than. The decision to choose Him when you can seriously spend your whole life trying every other things, testing it, probing it to see if it lasts.

We are made to love God and to Love this community in which we are in. We try to love the world, and with our binoculars, we miss our family, our extended family and the people living underneath the bridge.

Let us love where we are.
and worship where we are.
and i believe that it's here that we find freedom.

fishers of men.

2008-02-29T02:04:00.013-10:00

021308
We are constantly walking. With each step taken and with each breath inhaled is another towards eternity. We don't stop and cause time to fall but all of time's little arms are twisting and they turn with emphasis. Do they have any regard whatsoever of circumstance or necessity? Or is it melted? Limp and destroyed on branches wasting away? Have the numbers renounced their claim?
020908
It's strange to think that we are all focused on the future, yet each step we take, our bodies and minds are transforming already into the beings we dreamt about. In instances such as that, what are you doing? Who are you becoming and in what direction are you headed? Are you aiming for Love? or to be cute? what is your hope? where do you find it?
011108
There is a certain moment in time that forces my breathing to stop, halts the blood being pumped in and through my heart and thoughts from being formed in my mind. It seems to try to end my existence. It is a moment of pure confusion and mixture of emotions and pictures and experiences that merge and flow according to the patterns of complicated melodies and numbers. It's nothing I understand. Like attempting to swallow a boulder or calculating catastrophic amounts of numbers over and over again with no hope or sense of an end. I absolutely hate it.

I was missing, but now I am found! Hello again and greetings.

As you can see, I've been trying to compose but it's been kind of impossible. It almost seems like my thought-life above needed to work in this specific order, but backwards. It seems like I was subconsciously working things out in my brain and chewing on facts and mystery.

I have returned from the grave and I have found my purpose ... again. Not like it's been lost, but it needed some ground work. In a semi-retrospective glimpse of these past seven or so months of my life, God lifted me up and placed me in different areas around so that He could work on the foundation underneath. I guess I had moved quickly on to surfaces that weren't yet developed - or maybe it was planned this way.

In either circumstances, I have a new foundation. A "true" foundation. Since truth is now relative quotation marks are necessary, but, I have found it and I have claimed it to be objective.

That's a good question: can you actually do that?

The answer is 'yes' and 'no'. YES in a way that I can do anything.

and NO in a sense that nobody will listen to my words and take it as natural law - as for now.

But as believers, if we live this life as intended - by following Christ - then we can claim Truth and testify to it. If we allow ourselves to be sanctified by the Truth, it will set us loose.

So today, I step back into my position as guerrilla-love leader and will continue my race as a lovenvoy with a newly paved road. I am thoroughly thrilled to be back in action!

For this reason I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, from whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named,

that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory,
to be strengthened with the might through His Spirit in the inner man,

that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith;
that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height - to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be the glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations,

forever and ever amen.

-Paul

2008-01-17T23:20:00.000-10:00

There is a tiny part of me that is hoping for an intense sci-fi encounter with myself ten years removed from this date. If this were granted countless mistakes would have been avoided and many relationships saved. Though I realize that this hope is irrelevant and more importantly the probability of me messing up the time/space continuum is great, this type of intro/retrospection allows me to see how God has been in my life all along – even before I asked Him into my heart. I was raised in a warm home with two parents who loved me, provided for me and taught me how to be a caring person. I had a wide spread of friends but only knew them superficially. I would struggle in and out of shallow relationships – the only kind of romantic relationships a pubescent teenager can obtain – and attempt to scrape any sort of meaning out of this life. My sense of the immense gravity and significance of our existence really exhausted me, mostly because no trace of life could be detected. I was an optimistic, fear- stricken, love-deprived, community seeking mess of a horn-dog. All the while the intensity of the Lord made circles around me and every tree, cloud and mountain pointed directly to Him. All of this directly in front of my eyes, worshiping, screaming and waiting for the sons of God to be revealed. Looking back at life through my 20/20 hindsight vision, I recognize that many of my actions and choices were actually expressions of my soul seeking God, trying desperately to fill my ‘God-shaped hole’ – a gaping hole at that.

2008-01-07T20:12:00.000-10:00

get up, get out, get away from these liars

because they don't get your soul or your fire

take My hand, knot your fingers through Mine

and we'll walk away from this dark room for the last time

every minute from this minute now

we can do what we like anywhere

I want so much to open your eyes

cause I need you to look into Mine

The truth is that

I am afraid because I can't see.

But I want to be brave.

I'll let you know when all of that changes.

2007-12-25T22:57:00.000-10:00

There is always something that I want to say. Though I feel like I am saying the same things, over and over, in many different ways. I want to scream out loud. I think I am happy, but I'm waiting and I've been crying lately during strange times and about weird things. I've been listening and talking and breathing in new things, old things. I love my family and my friends, but right now it seems that I love my friends a lot less, yet it's not true, it's just the feeling isn't there. I am afraid of finally marrying my future and then suddenly "the feeling is not there." I AM TERRIFIED OF THAT AND ALSO OF BEING BURIED ALIVE. Which in a way, is the same thing, the same feeling. I don't want to die because my family loves me, all of them, they love me so much. It's getting harder to leave and easier to talk - this is SO TWISTED. I am feel so mixed up I feel so upside down.

--

This season is a tricky harlot. How can a slight temperature drop and electricity overload draw feelings of romance and intimacy? It's funny that a holiday made to glorify Jesus is able to make people feel so lonely.

--

I want to say that this vacation will do me good. And that this new experience will change my life. I have come to the conclusion that nothing will do me good but the Love of God and the experience of that Love in community with Him and with His people. This sounds unrealistic and naive and utopian and ridiculous and all sorts of things. BUT, BUT BUT but BUT BUT! That is false. and THIS LOVE IS REAL. AND I AM NOT CRAZY. And I am not naive, I am not young, nor old, nor intelligent, dumb, a dreamer, futurist, player, pure, christian, nice guy, leader, fag, ugly, good-looking, lazy, good-for-nothing, or a prophet that will bring profit to anything or anyone at all. I, Landon Kazunari Ajimura, have no authority as anything whatsoever in heaven, on earth and under the earth -but i am dust.

--

i am a son of God and in Him i find everything i need.
whether i know it or not, whether anybody knows it or not.

merry Christ mas.

2007-12-08T19:08:00.000-10:00

heart #1
to whom can i sell my life to and what can i afford with it? what can i buy or bargain? is there a swap meet? cheap deals or sales?

what else can i compromise for happiness? is there something i can take internally? something with a sure guarantee. i need maybe 10 testimonials - random on camera encounters are alright.

is there a person to help me out? like some sort of dealer? how i get whatever i want, whenever i want with whom ever i want in any circumstance that I see fit? come on, i know you can buy anything on ebay. i know there is something.

what is truth? how many books can i buy on this? what is it i have to read? what is the secret? can anyone tell me the kind of image that people perceive as attractive? tell me what is in and what smells good and looks good and how much i have to weigh. PLEASE i need love, or something close to it; anything that feels good.

give me the codebook or like 5 easy secrets that drive women crazy in bed. or 99 new fashion essentials for this winter. give me life. i need to be somebody attractive. i need people to be jealous of me. i need it, seriously i will die.

damn, this life is full of shit and i hate it. there are no flowers or sunsets or amazing architecture to gaze at while sipping some amazingly aromatic coffee or tea. exactly! there are no choices! i am enslaved into doing the same old thing that i hate to do and that i know is bad news. this world is full of pollution and it blocks out the mountains entirely and even the desert sand is completely blacked out with snakes and bird carcases. there is no god to help me out whenever i am in the miry clay, there is no hope.

i wish that there was something else, something better than this life. i wish that my circumstance wasn't the only way, but there was a higher way... i am so desperate. somebody please please please help me. i seriously need a mocha frap.

2007-12-03T17:08:00.000-10:00

" The truth is that I cannot explain or give you imagery to grasp it. The purpose and effort put into this is something unseen and seemingly vain. You will suffer a lot and maybe die, but it'll be the greatest place you'll ever be. There's lights there and this feeling, it washes over you and when you're tired, it's cold water. And don't forget, He's there, when you don't feel Me, I'm here and I love you so much, I want you to feel this so bad, I want you to experience Me, to the point where you loose touch with your sinful nature, that you would realize that in Me you're free, you're completely free and you don't need anything else. "

I had typed this out March 6th 2007 and I didn't post it because I felt like it was too personal or something. I put it in italics because it was in my head, but also quotes because I felt like God was speaking it over me. I kind of thought that it was too similar to that book 'Conversations with God' that almost led me astray! And that like Hitler was in heaven or something. Anyway, this is so appropriate for me now and I believe for everyone else also.

And so now I sit. And I wait. I'm in SBC and it's exactly 4 o'clock on a Monday, traffic wasn't so bad. As I was driving here, I thought about Chasing Daylight (4/5) playing last night and I was just in awe at the lyrics Seth sang: "And He loves us, woah, how He loves us" over and over again. I was moving forward at rapid paces and all the same, becoming exceedingly enamored at the richness of God's love. The trees near the fences and tiny flowers lining the hills, I knew were praising Him, because they knew their purpose. They believe in the relentless gravity of kindness thrust upon all life. They believe in God 's Love.

How do we receive this?

I am Japanese, and it's funny to observe us receiving gifts, especially the older generations. If you ever experience this, someone would graciously hand them money or food or something and my people would say: "Oh! No, no! No thank you, no give it to your family, Thank you! You keep it, no, no, no, no, no, no." And if you're persistent then we would lower our heads and take it into our hands, look up gently, smile and say "Ohhhh, thank you! You didn't need to, you know! Oh no, no no no, thank you so much. " We know absolutely nothing about receiving gifts, but generation by generation we are getting a little better. I think that sometimes from the outside, people would think Oh, how humble of that little Japanese man! And yes, sometimes we are humble, but other times it's just kind of ridiculous. Whenever someone in my family does this, or when I do, I want to scream: "RECEIVE THE DAYUM GIFT, THANG."

In ZEO, I want to scream the same thing. It's as if a portion of our brains aren't able to open up on certain issues at certain walks in our life. It's as if God prepares us through many events to slowly widen the capacity of our minds limitations in subject to His love and Love and presence. How many times have we heard about submitting to Him, but one day it suddenly it becomes real and you feel it in your bones. That's what we are praying for: knowing the intimacy of God in your gut. And when we live with our all of our knowledge, our guts and our essence pointing to the very embodiment of Love Himself, then that's life. And that's life so abundantly. You start to live with the pleasure and gratitude of having received the gift. And you want to meet with the Gift-giver. Slowly and slowly, it's not even about the gift anymore, not even about you or what feels good or what is nice, but all about the Giver. You then become a giver and you give the world a view of what it is to receive and they want to meet the Giver. Slowly by slowly gifts are given and light is being perpetually shed upon the creeks of the earth, turning into rivers, while the creation sings and angels take their place, the sons of the Giver stand and all fall down. Each one rising in the Lord and walking in His name forevermore, all of everything glorifying the Son, souls singing and dancing in the Spirit and in a love so deep with the Father.

This hope is ours.

Forever amen.

Aren't you glad you received that gift, thang?

2007-11-25T22:37:00.000-10:00

Today on the shore at 5:47pm I stood still to watch the sun settle into the ocean. It was abnormally large and orange, and fortunately there were no clouds obstructing the full view of the horizon. As I stood on the sand, I looked to my left and to my right to notice everybody staring into the light with anticipation. Two-fifths of the sun had already descended and still our eyes were fixed. I no longer had the feeling that I was alone, and with us marveling at the beauty of the setting sun, I understood that we are some how all knit together. That our lives are interwoven with each others experiences and that we are brought together under a unified sense of awe. The sun then minutes later became three-fifths, four and then wholly consumed into the depths of the sea.

There was something internally warming about standing with my brothers and sisters on the beach . Underneath the sky all life was dissolved into the same form, the same spirit. We stood, sat and swam there still tracing with our eyes the outline of the old sun, now greenish and non-fixed. The ocean glistened and burped as the sun rose on the other side of the earth. All the while disagreement rises in our voices and plates collide and the earth bends in different places. We are blinded by our hearts that still beat the same sound and by our lungs that share the same oxygen and sand that lay under our feet. But here, there is no longer a Mililani snob and North Shore haole, clean and dirty person, dumb failure and AP scholar , homeless and wealthy but Christ is all, and in all.

And when we find ourselves caught in the life of others, bearing each others burdens we then find true community. Not only in mere vicinity or even frequent visitations but in sharing experience through willing openness.

People need to understand people and understand Love. And equally, the significance of both all thrown in together: the sum of what the world toils and wars to own.

We already have it in our hearts, now brothers and sisters, lets bring it out.

The Spirit and the Bride say, "Come."
And let the one who hears say, "Come."
And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires
take the water of life without price.

2007-11-18T01:38:00.001-10:00

Dear Landonof2004,
On the day of November 17 2007 you will experience the key to life! Don't be so sad. And take off that frown - and your hat too.

Love,
fully-realized LandonofEternity

11/27/04
As the politician views, the red-dot-almost-a-period-in-both-ways keep a correlated manner. She reads, they read , they erupt, almost like geyser; erupt, embrace in joy. One beats at the drum of another, they follow, sort of strung out too thick yet in a perfect sense. Erupt, erupt, erupt, erupt, erupt, erupt, erupt, erupt, erupt, erupt, erupt. Once more then they die.

12/04/04
+the truth is that i'm scared.
of what?

+being alone.
I'm always here

+i love You.
I love you.

12/06/04
I thought I saw You near a picture frame that couldn't have been in service for a few, a few, few days or something more. I thought Thy weather did me anything but sleep, so when I let myself observe the colors that linger in Your breath, it took me off guard.

2007-10-29T14:37:00.000-10:00

Though the fig trees should not blossom,

nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail,
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in LORD;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation
the Sovereign LORD is my strength
He makes my feet like the deer;
and He enables me to upon the heights

and i am not afraid,
landon

2007-10-22T16:16:00.000-10:00

I AM ON STRIKE.

But while you're waiting, please enjoy these:

To God and the abundance of His mysterious creation,
let us be in perpetual awe.

we are alive.

2007-10-15T15:49:00.000-10:00

These are the moments.
(in no particular order)

+Binge smoking with Aley all across the island, specifically on top of St. Louis Heights overlooking the city.

+Talking with Kev for thousands of hours at Chris's aunties house about life and future plans while listening to Alexi.

+Tea with revelation-Suzie and listening to her, when suddenly and genuinely she asks "so how are you?"

+Going shopping with Noelle in the BR as she helps me to find superior threads while maintaining a non-superficial conversation and we laugh.

+Driving while remembering God and knowing that He loves me and I am so so sure of it, so sure that the colors of earth and the sky illuminate and my heart soars above.

I know that these fade, along with every other light there is to see.

What's left? What else exists if it will all disappear so quickly?
Is love really bursting at the seams?
We really don't know much at all. I think that we solely possess hope,
a hope of Love in faith. And a hope for people.
All else is void and futile.
There is nothing else.

There is nothing else.

2007-10-06T01:30:00.000-10:00

Haven't Been to the Ocean Since:

I guess you could say that I've fallen in love and I haven't decided if I should be discreet or not. I haven't really decided on much. It's not what it looks like and it's not what it seems because I'm still crying because I'm lonely but I've got them all here with me. The bus schedule seems fixed, but is so inconsistent. I think that I've been training for a specific moment or feeling but nowadays, I'm not sure you really can. Maybe it's that love and destiny even the sky are not bound to anything. Maybe nothing is certain except only in the attitudes and outplaying of sovereignty in history and further. I know that I am in love because my heart tells me so, my mind follows with it and my body longs for the same thing. And if I am centered at all, it is with this surging knowledge of a closer community. I have tasted it. More or less, that community is gone or at least detached momentarily, and I am found suspended in it. I sense that nothing is more tangibly valuable than what I have discovered, or what has discovered me.
This is something no one can forge or willingly recreate. I believe that is why it's so heartbreaking when it is gone. We have tried and we have broken our backs.

It won't serve any purpose to say "I miss you (now that I don't see you everyday)" nor "I love you so much (now that you're gone)." How can I not love you the same? Or even maintain the same feelings that are present now, miles of it turning into seconds near? Distance does strange things to people.

All I really know is Love, which of course is God and I know community. Even if it's a sort of a community that isn't always a jubilant force, sometimes jealous, other times quiet. But a community I know that is pure and whole, one that is full of Love and love:

the width of the sky.

2007-10-01T15:33:00.000-10:00

I've spent some time in the ocean in the past couple of days and strangely I feel so much truer to myself. At this moment in time I've never felt more clarity and so much in control of my mind - it's very strange and intense and I guess moke Landon has returned, braddah.

I've just determined that I am so in love with people, new people, but I feel so alone. I am burdened but not depressed. I recognize how replaceable I am and the potential of my failure or success yet I feel so capable to do anything that I need to. I guess it's just that I'm dead and entirely so much alive and honest. My skin and bones are clear and resting on an oceanic wavelength. My soul has been sifted and filtered and I am pure.

God, You are the LORD, my heart is towards You. When i do not remember that, You are so quick to remind me. You are the Deliverer and my Song. my Heart, my Breath, my God. i see Your plan of firm faith and a sure vision that You are equipping me to receive. And i am here, i will follow You to the very ends of the earth. Establish Your kingdom here, complete Your will and set Your banner of love on the highest hills of our lives. God you are the LORD, our hearts are towards You.

I am in pursuit of God
and Him also in my relationships.
I miss that, i miss God
I miss people, near and far.
And I've never found out
how to deal with missing people
it's strange because everybody leaves.
I often fail to recognize
that each of their voices remain
some tied to my thoughts
some bound to my feet
others connected to my heart
but all of them walking with me to the ends of the earth.

to all of you who don't require much,
Landon

2007-09-18T16:02:00.000-10:00

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. Lots of thinking and if you are into to heavy introspective types of analysis, ask me and I will be glad to send you these three songs:

- 'Trailways' by Red House Painters
- 'Breathe Me' by Sia
- 'Paint the Silence' by South

These are the first three songs on my CD titled 'Some Slack' when I wished that life could cut me 'Some Slack'. These are so beautiful and allow you capture all of your thoughts in a little heart-shaped box and give you the opportunity for you to access with extreme ease.

This is kind of dangerous because these songs are way too easily ones that can capture all of the emptiness of life and cause you to swim around for a little. It's strange how that can be so appealing, to sulk and swim, drip or brim. And you can easily look at a cloud or two and be so drab and depressed, something I won't understand. The trees and earth and everything is something God breathed, and something painted under love and fascination, not sorrow or regret.

I was going to erase the part above. I usually do that like twice or so before iPUBLISH.

I've been meaning to talk to most of you about something, so I'll do it here since it's private and intimate. I have been getting so worked up or something, like in the area of lady luvin' cause I've been pretty cool and like a dormant volcano, right? But recently I've been thinking a lot about it. And I'm seriously just on my path with God and my attitude is like okay, I'm just gonna keep on walking with Him and if it happens that He brings someone my way, I will be MORE than freaking happy to accept - H A H A H A - and if not, that's cool too, I can be like a mega martyr! SO, that has been my thoughts for quite some time, and still is, yet recently, I'm getting bombarded with crazy thoughts and weird emotions and maybe my hormones are still raging? When do they stop btw? Anyway, could the entire internet be with me in prayer. The cool thing is that I'm completely thrilled I'm having these desires, but I don't know what to do with them. Maybe I'll just masturbate like 2098343 times a second. Instead of saying the word "love" ... or maybe I'll be saying it in a totally different way! IN SPANISH! Haha, I'm sorry if I am offending anyone or causing one to stumble or throw up in a bucket. I'm just typing.

ALSO, too I just realized that my paragraph above could be rendered and mistakenly meaning that I have been getting sexy desires, BUT that is not the case. My desires are for a woman wife life lover. Not just for sex.

I'm sort of over feelings altogether, they get me nowhere. At least for today.
Keep this lovenvoy in your thoughts and prayers.
Love to all,
+landon

2007-09-10T17:37:00.000-10:00

Just recently I remembered the division I spoke of this past Sunday. It seems like I'm being bombarded with the moments after I first entered into the kingdom, sort of. The feelings of lukewarm living, the watered down gospel and other things that seem important for a guy my age. It actually makes me want to cry, but because I am empathizing, I am beginning to understand how they feel again. I understand that it's nothing I can say on any given Sunday, or even Wednesday. It's not in the power of Zeo, or New Hope and that the emphasis we put on every thing except the very substance of what we believe: that God can, shapes us a meaningless martyr.

Instead we are planning events, we are planning good events. We have a formula and a strategy. A blueprint of the "church" and so many ideas on how to win people for Christ. Who is Christ? Is He not the One we have laid our lives down to? Is He not the very one who came to save, the One who was the power to?
Our plans and our gospels and our works are dead. With out the very Cornerstone in the picture, the building will fall into pieces and our prized creation in which we have given our very lives to will be upon our own bodies.

We are being called to seek Him together. To abide in Christ alone, and make not anything our idol. An idol even being the bible. Our goal is His kingdom. Our will is His. And together we will go. We will die, there will be a time where the saints will appear to be conquered. Our hope seemingly diminished, and our voices drowned out. Though with God we will shall prevail valiantly. The martyr brought to glory and praise will shout out. Righteousness shall spring forth from the earth.

His bride. The beloved, pure and shining bride of Christ. That's what we are. He has manifested His glory, His relevant, excellent, intense and full glory to us. That we would walk as His priests, and His mighty nation. A nation risen up before every other nation of the earth, walking with the mark of the Sovereign Lord and the horn of His glorious presence lifted up high. A banner of LOVE. All shall fall down and confess of His glory. They shall praise the Lord all of His creation, lifting it up. With one voice, the people shall come and worship before Him,

El Elyon, El Olam, El Roi, El Gibbor. YAHWEH, our God, for all of everlasting.

2007-09-08T00:47:00.000-10:00

letters on a keyboard, the colors in a city
could not contain the Word of validity
the passion in pestilence and oceanic reference
the signs and the symmetry, gold in pottery.
I stand firm and confess the jewelry I possess
is solely an intimacy met, language far kept
in prisons and homes, His story is told
this life not for me, I am finding true victory
so here I will stay,
His kingdom come, and overdue is His way.

(my contribution to poetry fest)

2007-08-30T23:15:00.000-10:00

For the past few weeks I've really been wrestling with my inability to write anything. I think that God is really reconfiguring the way I think. What you write is what you think is what you say is what you do. I've been doing new things and saying new things and thinking new things and writing nothing. That is kind of confusing.

I was just thinking and

I am not ready to write anything new.

I am rediscovering life or something.

Everything is so good here and I guess the main thing that I want to say is:

I am freaking intensely intimate with Jesus and I am so okay.

I know you are too.

I'll talk to you in real life.

+Landon

2007-07-17T12:53:00.000-10:00

How ever you feel, whatever it takes, whenever it's real, whatever awaits, whatever you need, how ever so slight, whenever it's real, whenever it's right.

(Before you start, when I read back on this, I saw that I really needed to write this for myself. It's sort of a novel or long letter and might be completely FUTILE for you to read, but nonetheless, I did publish it on the internet, so idk, it's up to you.) READERS BEWARE. (that was 'Goosebumps' slogan! remember?)

Finishing work always feels so good and the drive home is usually nostalgic, quiet and real nice. Today I left at around 11am, I had my iPod on and the song 'spit on a stranger' came on. I had just put this on my new playlist titled: SPECTACULAR.
I was exiting the parking lot and my car was semi tilted due to my minuscule spare tire. It was a hot morning and I was thinking about my billz and being in debt and right at that moment the sun had shone on my arm and I saw everything as pure gold. I felt peace like a dove swoop down and drop a load of dung on my heart and everything was so dumb but so, so perfect. I was in the middle of this these two separate feelings, colliding and collapsing and I had no panic in my soul.

I was super content2k.

It was after the drum riff, weird swirly sounds and the arpeggios running up and down along side an oceanic bass line that He had sniped the core of my being. And those words above, the fact that God had used Pavement to give rest to my soul and the synapse explosions buzzing - I was heavenly! I then drove to the bank.

Being in a bank, I thought to cash my check and the total was $356.57 (give or take $2,309,843) I knew that my billz added up were $791.81. I was biting my fingers and trying to recap what I had just felt, I searched for the bird. GONE! I got home and explained to the tax collector why I didn't have the money and he explained the principle of the matter and I swooned and gasped and awoke and threw up, but actually I explained and he told me about billz and money and being in the red and paying the minimum and insurance and what if we didn't have uncle donny to fix the cars and what if i'm screwed. I seriously I will always have a respect for my dad and his financial knowledge and his personal experiences, even if he thinks I hate hearing his old stories and parables, I actually love all of them.

In short, he explained finance and I was holding back some tears, and I didn't really know why. I walked up the stairs and I almost lost it, I could feel him watching me. He asked real nice if I needed money and I declined and said "I'll be okay, I'll be fine." all sad, self-loathing and begging for sympathy. I got to my room and I stood there with my right arm cradling my head (if you can picture) and these unfamiliar tears ran down my face. I was completely silent in this as my heart was squeezed tightly. I was confused why I was collapsing, especially because money isn't a real big concern for me, prolly a lot less than it should be.
At some point I was on my knees and I kind of calmed down, I was trying my best to press into God and then BAM! I realized I was a freaking gymnast high above the ground!
It sounds real funny now, but I have been/am doing this balancing act with beingclosertomyfamily/buildingaministry/
keepingintouchwithfriendsandunderstandingthem/collegestuff/billzz/
workingtopaybillzz for some time and this whole money thing I think really took me off of the tight rope.

You know, I think this event is a very tiny instance of what many people following after God experience. And looking back, like 9 hours later, things like this - that would normally drive someone to get some mental help - really teaches me something about myself, brings me closer in tune to the wavelength of my soul and ultimately deeper intimacy with Jesus. I don't always feel that peace, or see everything as golden as they are, but in the end I have left with me a promise and hope of what is to come. I used to think that was so dumb, and weak of myself, but in this moment and through these times, I am finding true strength. I am finding God, a little more every day. And that is what my life is about, this journey, a "dance towards God."

It is freaking beautiful and Landon, you really need to remember that. I hope you're reading this a few years later, maybe 2011? And maybe you're going off to chinese waters, maybe not. But regardless, how ever you feel, whatever it takes, whenever it's real, whatever awaits, whatever you need, how ever so slight, whenever it's real, whenever it's right. Never forget that this is love everlasting. Everything you need.
We love you bro,
Landon *July2007 edition.

2007-07-17T09:10:00.000-10:00

A man told me that I was brave today. He looked at me and said that I was brave for going into ministry. And Ryan, the SBC regular, introduced me to him like a proud father or something; like I was news. I stood there smiling at him and thinking about the definition of the word 'brave' and me being it. Why am I brave for that? Is being brave crawling on your knees? I remember someone telling me that bravery is being scared about something but facing it anyway - or was the courage? Or are they the same?
Do you understand my confusion!?

OR this could all be very self-indulgent, yet I believe that I have an intense case of covert(?) introspection beyond belief! ... So maybe not, but! Maybe still. I'm not so sure.

I've been thinking about intimacy and God and ministry and family and depth perception and many things about myself and friends and people inside of me. And honestly, like insanely honestly blogspot code of honor, I have molded and let myself be formed into a genuine friend. I listen and care and do my best to love. I have no reason to believe that any person or institution hates me or my life and that's bad and good - i know - but this is the question: am I seeker-sensitive? Or am I respectfully peaceful and not violent for the kingdom of God? Am I freaking post-modern in my beliefs and actions?! Am I brave or timid?

Am I brave or timid?

It is 6:04p.m. I am located in Seattle's Best Coffee, lovers lounge, in the back. I am waiting here for an old friend to come and meet me, I'm not sure if he's coming. My co-worker just came in the back and said " still e-mailing?" and I said, "you can't read this. I am blogspotting." "Blog?" She is texting away.

I am alive here and in this place I breathe a Christmas present breath and in and out it goes and my blood flows to my brain and nose to my toes but then the blood knows that when it gets to my head I will be giving ample energy for questions and ask myself "Did I always exist?" I look at my co-worker's reflection in my screen to see if she's reading cause I think that will embarrass me. I also hear the ice machine producing and building and dropping and I stop and think to myself: Is there meaning in this? Is meaning itself objective? To my readers in Europe, haha - all of you thousands - this post could meaning something completely different to you because of our differences in the definition of "ministry" or if you are focused on Harry Potter right now, you might as well think my goal is to join Hogwart's and become a grand wizard.

I have just come to the conclusion that being brave or timid does not matter. Any belief I have in myself is going to fail and I cannot find Truth in the depths of Landon, but only in intimacy with God and people. "I do not" really "exist" at all. "Only" what is God and His, not "you"rs and mines but a single source of pure surging Love and power and holiness and anointing is in "exist"ence! And that's intensely grand and beautiful.

This intimacy that we have found has set us free, so free that questions begin to fade and we keep on going and soon our sentences are perfect , they turn to gold and fire. We only move and our feet are set so high that they look so beautiful upon these mountain tops. We are together and whole, so willing and completely undivided. We are like things that go from their perfect glory on to more glory, lavishly placed and set in heavy rotation for all of eternity.

2007-06-11T00:32:00.000-10:00

For the past month or so I've been typing words in this box then erasing it immediately. Clever, or sassy, something. Not necessarily trying to be a poetic tragedy or stained blood, just of premium content. Lately I've been realizing that I long for content everywhere.

So, I'm sitting here in SBC, wondering if anyone else like me is sitting in an SBC contemplating suicide - haha - or just someone who understands. I know that there are people who are caring and gentle and violent and all things good. I'm trying to find that in people, myself. And you know maybe I am going crazy because of my new sleeping habits, but I feel so alive. And raw. At 6am this morning while I was drinking some coffee I didn't want to go hide in the back in my cave to sleep, but I waited for people. I waited for contact with humans and I praised God because of this miraculous experience of each other. Is it beautiful. And my purpose is within it - to love God and people forever and ever - to realize that this is it, salvation, in the very heart of God.

2007-04-19T23:01:00.000-10:00

hananime
maumoul
shi won k hanun landon.

It has been a while, a month or so? anyway, that's vaaaaaay to long.
well, i am back and i am o.k. !

These past few weeks have been packed with change, and the anticipation of it. I've been everywhere emotionally, like more than ever probably.
When i realized Gods sovereignty over my emotions, i think i've disqualified my feelings. I forget a lot that it's okay to feel angry, sad, alone, horny(and i pray that i just haven't disqualified the validity and purity of this post...girls...), passionate and happy. It's perfectly normal!! It's what i do that matters and to me that is nonsense. normally i would think that if i feel something and don't act upon it i would be fake and in genuine.

you might ask me what's my mother F ing name, R-U-L-E?
and i'll be like, hey i'm real.

"let now Your church shines as the bride, that You saw in Your heart as You offered up Your life"

I love it that Jesus see's the excellence in us before we even know it. the fact that He was like: you know screw it, one day they are going to worship me like this and it will be so beautiful to me. I will die for them.

SPIRIT+TRUTH
SPIRIT+TRUTH
SPIRIT+TRUTH

When i worship Him, hands raised or even not, but with my heart bowed, i know that my spirit is touching His. and that He is looking at me, in me and that His heart and Spirit is pouring out this passion that is His fire, the Love of Christ that is being magnified and manifested within me. as this takes place, everything i know is shifted, my thoughts altered and some how aligned with the Fathers heart.
About 18 years ago when He was holding me, His faint whisper made an impression on my heart. I heard His voice urging me in the direction of His plans for me. It's the way of His Spirit and the way He created me. He showed me His heart, how it brakes for those who are hurt and alone. He told me that His heart is mines and that He is for me, for those people who He shows me. He looked upon my spirit and put arms on me, He said that these arms are to comfort, the hands to hold.
His breath entered into the rest of me, creating this being that is personalized, individual and His own. He told me that i am alive only in Him, and that i need to stay near, that i would find all things in Him alone. He promised me that where ever He sends me, that i will be o.k.

i had forgotten it in myself and in people,but i just remembered a few years ago.
i can still hear His voice.

2007-03-09T10:20:00.000-10:00

Recently, my life has been doing some changing. I've always wanted to witness the change in structure and just in the over all formation, but it seems like no one ever notices it unless it's a major loss or growth of finance, people they know. But as for me, none of that has occurred. Nothing of great significance as far as I see it, but I think it would be interesting, or important if I somehow illustrated this, and I actually have no intention of posting this, actually that's a blog (BOLD! HAHA) faced lie. So here's how it happened:

I started my search, or actually got pushed off the
plank by my father, who forced me to become a sailor as you can
above, to find some treasure, or a new job.

So I continued to search the seas for some booty, and applied
at a few places, but none of them too serious.

It then happened, that I became completely desperate,
sooo desperate that I contacted the three sister witches,
and I asked them politely to give me a money blessing spell
which would find me a job FAST! They asked for my best friend,
Ming Ming, in return.

The Suzie witch then enslaved him for years and hugged him
then hit him every second of everyday just to confuse him.

But Ming Ming got very angry and threw his master into on coming traffic.

She almost died, but luckily, only suffered minor cuts and bruises, general retardation and a contagious smile.

so anyway, back to me, the witches found me a job at seattles best!
I was glad, see.

Not long after, I got reacquainted with money and sin, my ego grew and I became completely prideful and materialistic. TWO OF A KIND

hahaha

Even Ming Ming couldn't rescue me from myself because he too was filled with passion and a hot fierce lust........But he was burning for Suzie witch.

The witches then conspired against me, in MALICE, and thought of ways to bring me
down.

They decided to make me gain 2309843 pounds and make a better, hotter, skinnier, indier version of myself to make me see what a disgusting lump of puss I was transforming into.

But! Their plan was foiled, as my twin and I fell in love and continued to bask in self-absorbency.

So, they took my twin, my true corresponding shape, and removed his beating heart
from his body. Then, they put it in a take-out box and told me it was a thai food gift for me.

I was glad for 3 seconds until I heard the familiar beats of my lovers then fading heart. :'< :'< :'< :'< :'< :'< :'<
I was depressed for years, until I Aley witch felt guilty and decided to tell me the old secrets of the craft! She had to consult the other sisters on her red old T-mobile phone, then after it was confirmed, she spit into my ear and I had everything I needed to take over the world and surrounding planets!!!

The witches got dressed up and held a formal ceremony to welcome me into the craft.
They had me eat a human heart in which they spend tremendous time baking while Ming Ming and I were out trying to save the world, We couldn't make it and I thought Ming Ming was pissed, so I told the witches that Ming Ming was pissed and then they were pissed, then we could make it, and I asked Ming Ming if he was pissed and he said "no, i'm not pissed", so i told the witches that Ming Ming wasn't pissed, so then they got happy and felt important and worthwhile and all was restored. Semi.

So they brought the human heart, in which they secretly poisoned so that I would DIE! DAMN WITCHES!!!

I then passed away into the arms of my Savior, but Ming Ming laid hands on me healing me and I was sent back to this world.

I then awoke quite violently, and hurled suzie witch into on coming traffic. This is
the last photograph every taken of suzie witch. (all photos with suzie witch in it
after this one has been edited with photoshop to keep the general continuity of this
biography)

(this is from suzie witches funeral)

A Praise Chorus.
S.E. Stercho
092890-021607
A beloved witch.
Her spirit is departed from our group, even now.
See you soon Suz.

Soon after, I was promoted to "king of the world", and had to wage many battles in the spirit.

During my peaceful reign, the remaining witches tried to kill themselves several times, but me, being a ruler of love, granted them their greatest desires.

I gave Noelle witch Asia and other surrounding islands, where she enslaved all of the AZNs . She's doing very well controlling the assets and economical flow of the country, now called the United Nations of Nozilla. (UNN)(pronounced NOH-ZEEYA)(she speaks fluent spanish)

I granted Aley witch a wax sculpture of her choice. As you can see she chose well. She now lives in Wales, seeking
her doctorate in political science, as she aspires to be the next Hillary Diane Rodham Clinton.

Ming Ming was freed from the witches control and lives a joyful life of mesh tanks and love. He kept Suzie witches head for bragging rights. We're still best friends.

And me, i'm basking in the light of Love and my family, still eating, and speaking and it's excellent. I guess life moves in the most fluid of motions, moving when you don't really see or feel it. It's good to reflect and look back, to see yourself progressively moving so quickly.

We are so alive.

2007-03-07T23:18:00.000-10:00

I've been waiting for a moment to pass, so rich and packed with emotions and different feelings. This is something that i've been thinking and praying about for a time a time and half a time. Atleast it feels so.

Even if I understand, and can't speak it, I don't want to fight. I'm trying to erase certain letters and colors in this world, and in doing so the passion and anger that evokes our fiery tounges and mouths so wide and stocked it will diminish. We're of a flame, mostly momentary, for i've never seen a an eternal flame with my own eyes. And voices, syllables and memories couldn't keep it kindled past its fare.

Then what is left? To you and yourself? And of mice and men? To whom is credit due if all fade and die and leave and are left and open and empty?

I almost can't type these words, and even the ships of my mind have found rocks to fall on, the great Titanic of the ocean, is of the ocean in the end. And so do all of the great things of this century, every century pass away.

And i'm tired of explaining.
I am going to live and you'll define who I am through Other means.
No, not words, not even actions, all fall short.
You will not be deciding and neither will I, more so not my own.

I am not defined by others words or perceptions and even my own fears and insecurities and passions and careers or callings or minsitries or anything else.

So who am I? Who are you?

If you would like, we could be sons and daughters, brothers and sisters. I could take you up with me and we could have dinner with someone who is passionate about your merely fading existence. We could eat all night, then talk - the peace is immaculate. And I promise that you'll find life there. And I promise that we'll stay alive forever, all of us together.

2007-02-13T15:20:00.000-10:00

If i were to shoot herion I would be bland.

And glass eyes I could do but stand and even if the sun do set upon my empty eyes, I rest,
the deep valley gallows i would, in sense, be opposed. If not why does nobody care to wonder?
Inside of vessels, inside of this canvas of a world too much like ourselves - even if we could understand, would you want to?

So many summers and times of moods and swings and trees get cut down, ouch and sorry. How do our eyes rest and think of these things that could mean something else but trust me I had the best intentions, but to think... of the circumstances that could be out ruled and situations that could collapse becaues of a mindset being broken or stronghold torn down. In two words, maybe three? We've been too tired to count.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][these are tiny vessels][][][]
[][][][][][][][my brotherssisterandi][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
[i am this one][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

so lets get ready.

2007-01-29T22:30:00.000-10:00

i am concerned as i listen to the rain fall, drop, beat patterns into well guarded roofs designed to guide the water down it's path. sitting down, waiting for a feeling to occur then i'll run down the carpet, maybe stop. or lie back down. i am concerned feeling, in general, just in genuine responses to valid non-reasoning's and inbetweens. my hobbies consist of defining things, being defined (i semi wish i was talking about my body ha-ha)and knowing my perspective on definition. and i've noticed that i have a strong urge to know what i am, and who i am becoming, thus defining myself. and i know, it's very repetitive, and i would make more paragraphs to keep your attention, make you think that you're receiving more, new information to persuade you that you're not wasting your time on a large chunk of sloppy grammar/universe where every other punctuating mark were mysteriously replaced by commas. okay there.

so anyway, i wish that in these little posts i could add in notes about what i am saying, to define it. and like art i want you, to make it your own yet know what i am talking about. in this i do envy html codes - because here, typing, it's so standard: you have words, spaces, punctuation, and color. you click the 'view'/'edit' html button and WHAM! your hit with "908098" img src =www.nonsense.commm" all kinds of tiny hidden codes that define what you see on the outside.

i want you to want to know those codes. i guess, yeah.

and you know, i did question several of times (dating back to 04') if anything i ever wrote was valid. if maybe i was just obsessed with mixing words and sentences and appear to not appear at all, incog, or whatever. and it is valid, i look back and relate and respond and remake and it's always valid. if it's not, then i put quotes on it, no one ever knows.

but, the rain reminds me of when suz and lane were in car talking about how i reminded them of Jesus so much. i wasn't actually there, but she told me about it later on. i felt right, very justified, and complete. in hindsight, it subconsciously became a goal of mines, that everyone would see that i reminded them of Jesus. and that's not a bad goal, but for me, a terrible idea.
i was struggling with my own authenticity, if i was trying to fabricate Jesus, or just be about His love&stuff. and of course you let people down, both suz and lane got to know me better, and my nature...the best part! and i'm not too sure if they feel the same way, i'm sure seldomly i might, alittle but probably not too often. and usually this would really bother me. really bother me. but it's not.

nowadays, recently, i am putting my premium effort to focus on the consistency of Gods love and the art of throwing myself into the deep end of the desert oasis which is truly my faith. and not so much for making space for introspection, but instead my pilgrimage to the kingdom. i was told, and i believe that everything else will be thrown in soon enough.

and strangely, i'm not so concerned : )

2007-01-23T10:55:00.000-10:00

To my friends, Kevin Bacon, Princess Diana and Sandra Bullock,

"This is the opening letter to my fancy open aired one way conversation that will take place for the rest of your lives. from this moment on, you will always hear my voice, you will always see me out the corner of your eyes. even when i disappear you will think about where i am and what i am doing. it will slowly consume all of you on a cold July night, 7:28pm while your spouses are bring you tea and Popsicles while humming the slow and steady tune of "silent night."
I wanted to congratulate you for making it this long, with out blowing your brains out several time and even some with out firearms of any kind. but just remember, as you gaze out the the window of your two story condos and vistas overlooking beautiful scenery. just try to remember the sounds with everlasting ebb and flow, the capsizing thoughts and vocals like a million depth charges hitting heavily armored submarines that act as old lovers creeping about the bottom of the ocean where you'll find remnants of our old conversations. the pictures you have in your mind are slowly fading and the attitudes you once held towards any thing will be forgotten. it's not any sort of disease, but more willing. this is the far but ending paraphrased song of regret and elation. like any song that had been born before 1878. it's here where you'll hear me. over and again, up and up, during quiet nights, during love, for all days, all days.
it was engaging. "

2007-01-12T01:16:00.000-10:00

The Confessions of a Semi-Liberal Lovenvoy

Thesis: "Hmm... alright, well let's see..."

The constant opening words that flood your thoughts are probably something important. Usually more so if it's something that you're not aware of. My thoughts are a thing that i more or less treasure. For awhile now, they have been focused at an individual or a group of people, not in a judgemental fashion. I don't think. But more of an observation. And for these last few months i've been directing them at myself. Again, not in a judgemental way, just you know... purely observational. That's where i mainly draw the audacity to publish this post, and with it's name, hopefully you're not put off. I mostly say that because a part of me is. And also, this self-speculation is keeping me from using vaay tu much commas and many other things. So hold your pen Petra!

Chapter One: "I'm an asshole by nature"

A liberal, by definition is one who supports the political/religious progressive reform in a society. But with all of the libertines running around nowadays, being a liberal paints you in a picture with a chaotic/freelove backdrop. And that's sad! Because the opposite population begins to be put in a box of bland crayons and bad analogies and really clean whitewash humans with no tattoos and soul. And that's also sad, and i promise i'm not going to talk about politics, or religion. haha, i think. And i know you're not supposed to put "haha" in a confession, but i'm a semi-liberal, so **......**(this portion has been censored because Kevin R. Deming sometimes reads this during his work period and he works at this cool church office and gets paid vaay tu much), just joking. But really, the black or white attitude/categorization of people begins to narrow your focus to a Venn diagram perspective on life. We gather tiny pieces of information about people and start putting them in categories by balancing our beliefs with theirs and we assume their moral structure before giving them any chance at all. The cause of this is our insecurities(hah, i've said this like 20 times this week) plus generalization. A couple of days ago, i revealed a big secret to a confidant, which was that "i'm, an asshole by nature. Nobody knew that...right? And during the brief explanation, with my Venn diagram goggles off, i realized that all people by nature, are assholes. And that's what makes our God so brave.

Chapter Two: "and so i say the word "love" 235409283704 times a second - or try to at least."

Is it exhausting for you to open up this window of Landon and see all of these words and a post that looks just like an essay that you have to read for class plus the grammatical error galore? I never get lonely because i live with all of my lies -hahaha. It takes effort to be a lovenvoy, and honestly i don't know that i have been. For me, it's alright not to know. To tell you the truth, i haven't said the word love 235409283704 times a second. Some days i don't even try. And you know i think it makes my God sad. Cause no matter how effed i feel, there's this little part inside of me, and it's not a little part of me, but a little part of Jesus in me, and it's that part that makes me alright. It's confusing and it's valid. It's both because seriously, how effed can i feel? I live where i live, i drive a car, i have money in the bank, two living parents and thousands of brothers and sisters, clean running water, a job, not to mention i have freaking JESUSxLOVExCOREx2k infinity plus. Yet, i have these tiny little problems that in comparison to most people is nothing, a grain of sand, but yet i can't say that because every problem is a problem, no matter how small. But i can't be selfish and dwell on my own burdens, i must also take upon the burdens of others, yet not at all because all burdens are to be immediately packaged and shipped to Jesus because His yoke is easy and His burden light, but chris martin says that nobody said it was easy and no one ever said it would be so hard. so i am all jumbled, but then again, not really because Jesus said He would give me this peace that goes beyond anything and everything, and He's followed through, i am okay. I need to put more effort. and i will drop all things that are holding me back, i am to punch with everything i have, with all that i am. With Jesus i have incredible aim. My words need to match my actions and my actions need to show people that i care for them no matter what the situation is. Even if that is driving them home to get some sleep 8pm on a friday night with out complaining.

Chapter Three: "dude, i can't believe we're doing this"

And if you've read this far with out just skimming, then you're a real trooper, but if you haven't, then don't feel guilty, because you're intention is prolly to read it later, when you have more time at a more decent hour. I was really frightened that i would fall away from this secure place of mines. That some how, i would loose my grip on things and let it all drop the ground. And that that drop would create an earthquake and destroy everything i knew. Yeah, that's scary. And you know, sometimes i am really scared, it's not something that i would normally admit to, because of my masculinity issues due to close female friends taking the roles of males, and tipping the scale that God so perfectly created (i'm half joking.) I was afraid that this life that i've let go for our faith would SLVR from me, slowly, but that i was sorely mistaken. and that would really be a major bummer. I was thinking about it, and going back into the "world", i would have no place at all, none whatsoever. man and i felt so insecure. smaller than i really am. My only comfort is the fact that every step i take, ever since Christ i mean, leads right back to Him. no matter where the heck i go, if i were to ride the wings of the morning, i'd venture back into His open arms. and all the fears in the world disappears. the thing is, and i'm serious as fuck, that the love Jesus, the Christ, the One, that love is immaculate. His Love is the beginning and the end of all things that you've ever desired. And that's seriously a good story.

Conclusion: " If i come without a thing, i've come with all i need"

It almost seems both too easy and incredibly impossible at the same time. i can't understand and i like it that way. why would you want to understand something like God, He wouldn't be God if you could understand everything he Knows. It would be nice, but i understand that i can't understand everything. One day, God promised me that He would never leave me, nor would He forsake me, and i felt it so strong that i want to get it tattooed on my wrists in hebrew or something. i'm excited, it's another step in semi-liberal lovenvoyism. and i hope that in this short - hahah - confession, you know alittle about what we are made of. what we believe. and that we're after your hearts. we try to point in the same direction, and we are figuring out a way to speak in the same language. we are both fierce lions and little little lambs
and our hearts are towards Jesus
and our hearts are towards Jesus
and our hearts are towards Jesus
and our hearts are towards Jesus
and our hearts are towards Jesus
and our hearts are towards Jesus
and our hearts are towards Jesus,

"who are you seeking?"

2006-12-29T23:57:00.000-10:00

"there is love to be made, so just stay here for this while"

i don't know what this is,
so i'll tell you what this isn't.

this isn't some disgusting espresso driven sick craze type all funky, comma splice (cs),,,,,,,,, frenzy of brainwaves and jooviling mixing and bubbling of cells and cofeeeeee and too many letters because it's trying to be soo kyoooote, or funny or clever. or it's not a joke to try to make light of something, yet not sooo siruis (HP attack),,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, or inside jokish, and my hand isn't already tired. and it's not full of lies or entirely true or trying to be something or absorbing any piece of light/heavy literature that i read, or soooo desperate that he, it, they, them, call their ex's because he needs friends. we'll it's kinda that. and by the way i saw the green one today during work,,,,,,,,,with her mom,,,,,,,,,,,and i made it obvious that was looking at her,,,,,,, but she looked different. anyway,

i would totally get lyrics from interpol songs on my body. especially from 'public pervert' and maybe that bass riff from c'mere? or something, it's so good.

and i'm so sad, i needed friends or something, so i went on AIM to find friends, no one was there except ken and this girl from across the island, and yeah, no. i mean ken yeah, but no, you know idk. actually, but everybody understands. = ken, yeah but he might be with people idk like b.large or pancho, or at some show like art show and it might be creepy plus he and i haven't talked since i was in freshmen year, yet he did write me some cool stuff in my y(h)ear(t) book (i just typed heart...idk why...hahha) but anyway idk.

and so i gave up on AIM, as for friendfinding. so i went to mspace. and i was gonna go on sueys but she's in the forrest, so i said no. and i went on aleys. and i was texing zilla. and i was looking for friends, but i realized that no one has there visibility,,,,,visible, so i was like shoot. but then PK was on, and then i was like,,,hmmmmm hawaii kai.....no. and plus he might try to hold my hand again and it's probably sweaty, his hand,, not mines. and i said "no"

"how many days will it take to mend?"

and i'm home alone, it's 1207am. my parents are at some business party. and daniel taught me how to crack my neck, so i guess i love him and stuff.

expresso, i've had ten shots. i'm going nuts and i like to watch the 4 episodes of x-files that they play everynight at like2am or 1am or idk. idk if it gets affected by day light savings. idk when that even starts. i used to know when i used to talk to steph a. but now i don't. and i tried to text her but it won't let me text texas. which is totally moronic because three fourths of text is in texas. stupid, or,,,,smmmmart. yeah.

i take pictures with my SLVR. sliverrrr. haha sounds so gross.
i text with my SLVR. sliverrrrrr. haha,,,,, so fun.

mspace is calling me again,
but i wear my hat backwards, i am too sly for my own mspace.
i just SLVR my way onto my friends.
i am SLVR.

""""he has a bomb he has a bomb he has a bomb""""
i want to be foxM
and i think danaS is kind of pretty.

2006-12-17T04:30:00.000-10:00

i'm too placid right now to complete any self diagnosis.
i would like to be secure, but i'm so sure that we are all basket cases.
and that no one really knows what's going on. or what's up...for that matter.
we're holding up flashlights too close to our faces to see anything. it's dark in here and we all sleep to early and late. press too hard and classify every move. we determine what's not to be determined thus creating boxes. easy to construct. easy to judge. like right now, youmeandwhatithinkyouthink/youmeandwhatyouthinkithink.

i'll say it now.
and i'll think it again.
i'll think hmmh great emphasis.
i'll say what's not to be said.
in this part of town. anyway.

i think the word fascist was invented to box and coin a term so generally
disliked so that the creator can continue a different yet totally equal negative
machine/system so much worse than a totalitarian government.
or what we think is totalitarian.

i had put quotation markers around the word FASCIST, but it looks too
important or something: what courtney love is to media is what quotation markers
do to political writing. too much disdain.

"vaay too mach" as petra says about my commas in short stories.

vay too mach.

2006-12-11T12:12:00.000-10:00

and mary ain't you tired?

coincidence and time is funny. the timing to different situations and the forms. THA FORMZ. simply.

my guess is that anything inconsistent cannot be firm or trusted. but instead it gives off a form of structure. a facade? FAH-KADE? hahah. FA-SAAH-D. whatever you like? right? no?

so lets say you were swiming in the caribbean talking to the little fish and then you've been tired, as i been tired too, so you talk politics cause it goes so good with beer, and you lift cement. ooooooooohhhhhhhhhh hhhhhooooooooo, then bamb and elevator lady comes and is like "UHHHH" (cause that's the sound that a mother makes when her baby brakes.) children? TING-A-LING! and cousin nancy is bitching about. she says "LET ME GO HOME" [[and suz i'm not talking about you.]] seriously. and the thing with time is that it goes back to that place where you once were, for one more moment before it is displaced and dissapears completely forevermore. it's almost like a second chance, but more of a deal or closure. the best word of all. closure or the anti-festering. which it could very much so also be.

alright lets see.....
hmmmm. and spiders and webs and pages on the floor that says "shoo fly don't bother me" and it's strange that it says "shoo fly" cause if he heeded their words, he wouldn't have gotten wraped up tight till it's time to bite down. or her? or something.

i'm not that desperate,
oh Lord, oh God,
I AM.

haha whose been waiting for that? i was. personally.

how strange to be awake and alone. a phenomenon that has been watered down,
IT DOES MATTER! and stop saying " HOW GOES IT."

gross.

income annually?
prolly not a six digit number. but whatever..

my favorite part of this is when it repeats the first part but then starts a whole new line, so refreshing.

"passing through unconscious states when i awoke i was on the onset of a later stage, the head lights are beakons on the high way, highway, highway, highway, high way, highway,

too much?

we're chained.................and i hope i can sleep tonight.

2006-11-30T23:46:00.000-10:00

"hey are you there?"
"HI! how are you doing!?" (maybe not that enthused)
"i'm great, long time no talk" (trying to remember the feeling)
"really, how are you doing?"
"i'm doing good, just been relaxing" not really
"oh, good! we're seniors!" same subject. over again.
"i know! i'm real excited"
"me too! have you got all of your college stuff filled out?"
"yeah, i've been working on it" (really hasn't been)
"oh great, are you still looking at that same college there" what was it called???
"yeah, Pac Rim." i bet she didn't remember
"oh cool, yeah i've been applying to *names about 3-5 colleges*"
"wow, sounds good" what should i say next??
"so, how's your family?"
"they're good, they're good."

And you know, i can't help but feel a little bitter towards you. and i know that the same applies for me, we both have numbers and we both have choices. it's okay though, it's strange that we both knew it was going to happen before you even came. hah, maybe we're both prophets? i'm not so sure. and i guess it's hard to ignore "clicks" when you're near someone, but 3000 miles away? is it the same? i'm sorry that this sounds so, idk, dramatic or something, i don't mean it that way. i was actually enthused to write this to you, first of all, because of a stupid song "what won't wait for you" hah, i'm not going to say who sings it because of sheer embarrassment, but whatever. i do miss you, haha, how cheap, but i do. maybe you'll come back, and then leave again, within a year or so, we'll see each other three times, maybe four? no, probably three.

i got a new job, Seattle's best, are you working? idk, i think i really enjoyed unemployment.

But you know, i can't help but feel that everything was pretend. hearing you talk about everyone else, and how you can't make anyone feel bad, or put off, the fact that you hate confrontation so much that you live with anything. makes me question what we had, not so much the validity of your actions, but what you didn't say, and what you didn't do. and i still remember that look in your eyes four years ago. and i never told you, but those letters that i wrote you, i kept one, i still have it i think. it wasn't for you to read anyway, i thought it was, but i was wrong. so i hope we get to talk soon. maybe sort things out, but to you there's nothing to sort out is there? it's okay. i'll actually probably never see you again. and it'll probably be better that way. i hope not. i really hope not.
but regardless,
i'll see you when i see you.
maybe soon?

2006-11-27T12:06:00.000-10:00

The best time to imitate someone in any book, would probably be now, since i have just discovered blogspots easy-made-one-button list maker.
so i'm Rob, LETS GO!

TOP five feel good songs[NSO] :

Coldplay - Don't Panic
Santana&Michelle Branch - Game of Love
Silver Jews - Trains Across the Sea
Kind of Like Spitting - Birds of a Feather
Hillsongs United - Came to the Rescue

TOP five people:
just joking.

TOP five meaningful moments in history[NSO]:

Death/Resurrection of Jesus
Adolf Hitlers Reign
Bombing of Pearl Harbor
Birth of Landon K Ajimura
Invention of Mass Publishing
The Annexation of Hawaii

TOP five beautiful things[NSO}:

Mountains spliced with clouds and ocean.
A family laughing together.
Sexual intercourse.
People crying together.
A Starry sky.

TOP three things in life:

Jesus
Family
Pilgrimage

and so it is. here, here!

2006-11-20T13:31:00.000-10:00

i'm going home one day. i can almost already feel it. the euphoric breeze that sweeps your mind into a place, a day dream scape of peace, but a tangible version that couldn't be destroyed by thoughts of "reality" or other things disruptive.

i feel almost a bit of that now, the city sweeps you in. the miles of stars cropping beauty directly into your sight. i'm listening to telepopmusiks '"just breathe" and this song always evokes strong feelings of a quiet internal bliss lit by bright lights of success. this was my theme song, when i wanted to become some famous writer, or columnist for a journal.
picture me, in my high new york suite, with long horizontal windows that overlook the city. the dim lights, an orangy glow, a few friends, a lover, and slight alcoholic drinks, nothing too flashy nothing too rough. elegant and delicate, quiet laughter.
that was my dream. a little after everyone left, i would be gazing the city from the window, with a martini in my hand, my wife takes me by the arm and we head off. to where? i'm not sure. somewhere nice though.

most people would think that i would deserve something like that, a lifestyle, or expensive suits, and glamour beyond control. none of that designer fussy hype, but just quiet elegant in taste.
thinking about it, it doesn't sound so bad, no, not at all.
but in comparison to homeless friends, campfires dug into the ground so extremists can't see the flame, drinks from the water hole, orphans, sleeping bags and crusades of love. wow, i couldn't even compare. screw new york and it's sirens that sit on the top of it's buildings serving as beacons. i want to live, not as people see or say or do or think, but i want to live like Love.
and hell, i am. i will live and die one day but i'll see the light of God, i will see the brilliant cities of poverty back lit with the hearts of gold fastened so tightly, so secure that if all of the city buildings were to collapse on them, they would still prevail.
and far more than expensive do overs and elegant tastes that all lead into a fast paced diminishing effect that keeps you starving for more, and more until you die in your own death of consumerism hell.
and what symbolism is it that lady liberty isn't free in herself.

i had this idea that the following posts will be directed towards people i know,
one person, and so forth until this season is over,

this one is to me.

2006-11-17T10:37:00.000-10:00

last night at about seven o'clock i decided to go running. i've never thought about running being some sort of escape, i mean go figure, but really, maybe it's a latent reaction of the desire to run away from life. trying to move on and along and all together from our problems or DrAmAZZzz. wtev you like. we'll that's what music is to me. music is a book.

so anyway, lastnight at about seven o'clock i decided to go running. i brought with me my baby rio[small mp3 player] and the first song that came on was 'game of love' by michelle branch and santana. i secretly really love this song to death. -hah ha. okay. but anyway, i decided to start running when she started singing, to be in sync with the rhythm. so i did, cars pass me, and for some reason whenever i run by myself, especially with my music blasting, i have a tendency to look behind me a lot, too much. i'm secretly even listening to the song right now. but anyway, i'm not sure what this song does to me, i remember first hearing it on the radio in 7th grade, then on mtv - you know, the music video in sepia and everyone making out - everyone. it's cool. i'm not even sure what this song is about, but when i started running, a little smile made it's way to my mouth, and it felt awkward because cars were passing and i was smiling and running by myself. and idk, there's this girl that i always see running by my house, and she seriously looks like she's crying the whole time, like she's in hiroshima runnin away from the bombs. it's really sad, but i saw her petting her dog and she had the same expression. it's just the game of love i guess.
so good.

and every time i drive, and this is sad because it can't fully be completed anymore, but i used to put on 'don't panic' and i decided that when the world ends, or when i die, i want this song to play, and then at my funeral, i want this song to play, maybe even on repeat, over and over again. this song makes me want to live and die at the same time. and i think coldplay sold their soul to satan because no one can write music this beautifully. and i think that if coldplay wasn't so mainstream this would be more peoples favorite band. especially when it's raining, this song is at it's best, the drops of water falling on your windshield, fading off, and the constant swishing of the wiper. now imagine it being really cold, you can hardly see for the seconds that the windshield wiper isn't moving, you can feel the coolness even from in the car without AC, you turn on the seat warmer [assuming that you're in aleys pilot] and this song comes on. and lets say you were on a straight road, with hardly any cars, well i'd die just then. my head on the steering wheel and this song on repeat, somehow i'd drive for miles.

now at the house chris was staying at, about a month ago. it was always kevin and i who stayed up and occasionally chris or alex, but never the four of us. this was when i just got my alexi CD. so we put it in, the whole album on repeat, and i remember telling kev that this album reminds me of chinese waters, a still quiet time, maybe after dinner, i see a fire and our faces, so bright, lit by a flame in the center of us, no one is really talking but our eyes are telling stories. and i told him that and we talked for hours after that. but a song in particular, 'blue mind' some how captures all of my feelings on that perfectly. it embodies everything that i felt and knew before, a sincere mix of calm and bliss.

i'm in the process of gathering the soundtrack to my life, the songs on repeat, anything that is something to me. i wonder how many songs i'd end up having? then maybe you should play all of those songs at my funeral. we'll have a mixed cd, titled: memoirs of landon, or something. haha.

well we'll just have to see, wont we?

2006-11-14T20:05:00.000-10:00

whenever i'm home, whenever i choose to graciously bless my bloodfamily with the jubilee of my presence, we sit down on the same table and feast. i found out that most families actually still do do this, that our clan isn't trying to hold on to some prehistoric era of love, or something like love, i guess. but that this is practiced - that is all.
we sit and eat and this is one of the only times i speak to them for more than five minutes during any given day. it's good.
the conversation begins with one of my brothers or sisters talking about their voyages in school, effortlessly stealing all attention for more than appropriate time (though it doesn't bother me, all conversation is aimed towards me during the later part of the ceremony.) this goes on for a while, i'm usually finished eating within six or seven mintues of grace. i decided to throw in a rebutting comment to my sister, a little left-left-right-left jab to the jaw. she always steals my seat so i'm a bit aggitated. a few hours pass, but really only ten minutes, my brother excuses himself while mumbling something in japanese, a phrase that my grandma taught him. while my sister eases her way out of the conversation to watch TV before my parents summon her to clean up. [don't worry ladies, we help her out too.]
then my mom looks at me and asks about my day, often times something pertaining to my lack of a job or being late to school or sleeping in or even styling my hair different, trimming my eyebrows, or going to a dermatologist. usually just something to boost my selfesteem. dad, focusing on the bigger issues, wrestles with responsibilities like getting around in Chinesewaters, USA and health insurance. i enjoy dinner conversations.

-- i wrote all of that last night, now about 24 hours exactly, and i was just thinking, when it comes down to it, i really do apreciate them. everything single one of them. my uncle told me just the other day that family is really all you have, he was telling me about all of his friends that all moved away and i guess the inconsistencies within. i really wanted to tell him otherwise, but how could i?

my brothers and sisters are those who do the will of God.

that's what Jesus said. and it's what i say too.

--i wrote all of that lastnight, and now it's morning time, 10:55. this is cool, i stil feel the same, when does it become less about feelings and more about mystery?

so we're not going to the splendid ball of winter. it's alright because i was actually excited for it, i'll probably spend the rest of my life with them anyway.
unless i die, well unless any of us die.
234
432
645
456
765
567
don't panic.
146
641
97=
=97
:>:< :>:<
:):)
:(:(
demonstration.
enemies of the state.
///
\\\
watch your mouth.
and don't panic.

gluestick*
love&stuff

commute with me

2006-11-08T22:52:00.000-10:00

i suppose that i've become a degenerate.

and the loss of all things should be alright. i'll be alright, and to some effect i've wanted something much less anyway. cynical sounds so posh or something you would know how to chip it off of the big block, ship it down into some mystical hole in the bottom of the ocean, pull the stopper out. decide it's too late - too late. but i'm seriously in love.

if you listen to the song 'iris' by the goo goo dolls, you would understand, and if i'm correct then i'd relate to Jesus in a different level. sit in chairs look around they've been misplaced but accommodate to bother with your shirt being bunched up in the area where it's not supposed to and then look in to the eyes that would make one very uneasy not to say uncomfortable as it would normally seem to cross your legs and blink really fast and sip your beverage and think of something clever to say, i'm always thinking of something clever to say, and in effect doesn't come off as clever but more of a silky creepy predestined fateful nonchalant erogenous meaty version of just trying to be smooth and pulling it off. oh, oh, oh, i live in this new world of agony and fun and love and embarrassment but it's okay and i hate but i actually only really feel this weird love and is like hate in comparison but not really and sort of speaking is different in ways and smelling and morality and such and smells like teen spirit.

so i was telling kev that we should all get drafted, but really, and we can have these tragic love stories with girls from far away places. or this whole story is like pearl harbor and i get killed and he can have my baby!!! that baby will be Japanese and will have a big nose and big eye brows and blackest of black hair, but then again he'd prolly think of me everytime he see's my son, because he'll have a horrible speech impediment, bad skin and a large penis. hahaha. i'm kidding...shucks.

but anyway, that's prolly how life most definitely will NOT play out. cause i was a real jerk like taking his woman, and i'm speaking in code? haha. i am i am i am. there is no code trust me.
cause i'm real.

2006-11-06T17:17:00.000-10:00

on being clear.

there's something about the ocean alligned with a bright sky that sirrs something in my mind. causing like sized shapes and mixed emotions to flood the inner lining to press up on some g-spot in my brain. instant gratification? For a homework assignment, i am to tell of the ten things that make me comfortable in detail. in no particular order

close conversations

feasts with family

various settings of musical worship

putting myself before nature and the beauty of light

the few minutes before i go to sleep when my mind is most clear

the few mintues after i hit snooze but slide back into the bed

cozy reading sessions

unity of being with brothers and sisters

getting massaged

sitting still in Gods love.

2006-10-24T10:45:00.000-10:00

sometimes, i wish that everything that left me would one day return. all things, everything. the sun would just then emerge from the clouds, there would be a fog that lifts. all of us, everyone we had previously met, even the ones that we've just bumped shoulders with in the bus, and the person that always takes our order at that fast food place. our eyes would meet, and crazy rainbows and unicorns flying on them would shoot out from horizon to horizon. 3947293874 kisses, hugs and smiles. none of them insincere, or shallow, but the deepest thing you have ever felt. immense love and passion flowing from the mountains and springing up from the ground.
then from the hilltops, standing in the clouds, we all cease in conversation. our eyes lift, as the fog is pushed away, and light is bent around the center and appears like clothing. first a hand, then two, both with holes in the palms. then the eyes, fierce, bold and refreshing all at once. the wind starts blowing hard now, all trees and brush uprooted and our skins peels off. violently we transform into new things. every touch feels like bliss, like being on ecstasy, and ice and all drugs at once, but you're so sane and this is the most clear you have ever thought or felt or even imagined. we don't even breathe anymore, we only love and it radiates from us, He from the hilltops, smiles, and with one heart, we climb up the mountain with surprising ease. we find ourselves standing before a huge table, clear and brilliant, each with our own name on our very own chair, a new name that is. then we eat, we feast. all together, we laugh with tears that evaporate and our stomachs don't even hurt from laughing too much, we can chug all the holy water we want without drowning.
and you sit there, with your crown. amidst all of the laughing, all of the joy. and you look at Him. He looks right back at you, and you see His eyes, these eyes that are filled with so much of all things thrown into two eyes. you both smile, and you pass Him the crown and everybody follows, then after everyone gives their crown up, He stands up and leads everybody to the dance floor, where all people dance, it's like 80's night on drugs...or more drugs. we dance and smile and sing. everybody knows the words, then Lane shouts "JESUS IN THE MIDDLE" He goes, and we continue dancing forever, and then forever. dancing and eating and smiling and loving and crown throwing and it's the best thing that has ever happened.

this is the best thing that has ever happened.

2006-10-16T21:26:00.000-10:00

in control of things.

and absent in thought, mind and matter.

consistent, i cannot attain it.

consistency laid out before me.

and we want more of it.

shades and areas of colour.

or color. artsy or not.

plain or plaid

art fag? fruit nut? balanced? love/r/d?

try not to sound too abstract
and keep away from being incognito.
everybody hates that, hates you.

or to love because it shows acceptance.
we need it to do that.

liberal,LOVE
republican, LOVE
fundamentalist, LOVE
democrat,LOVE
conservative,LOVE
communist,LOVE

hey

i have all of these great ideas.

lets mix politics and Jesus.

lets get people to be concerned about how things are getting done.
enough to trick them that none of it really matters.
lets get all of the girls and old ladies to morph into one multi-facet organism that
is pleading for selfmeaning and thrists for reality.
it's not gossip, it's networking.
i think we should trick all of the guys that they are not real men unless they make people feel secure and insecure at the exact same time.
let's spread the word that love is made real through sex as fast as AIDS, much faster than fashion.
we should all become progressive activists and hold up signs and protest with tape over our mouth because we are making a difference by doing nothing at all.

i feel as though this should be posted up on the mspace with like a picture of GWB making a fool of himself.
though it's all love i say.

oh please-

is it really?

i love this,
i love religion
i love tradition
i love politics
i love the sound of children laughing.
i love the corporate ladder
i love this world
and what is love?

is God love?

i apologize making Him something that He's not.
for everything. even if i wasn't there.
i'm sorry.

there is Love though, He is Love, and a revolutionary
the Gospel is the power.

+excuse me, there's an airplane to board.

2006-10-06T16:25:00.000-10:00

so lately,
lately i've been okay,

if not more.

and i'm not sure how many of you read this,
hah - if any of you do then that's excellent, thank you.

but here's to God for the beautiful sunsets for these past 4 days.
it's been my goal to fall into the deep end of the Lords beauty and
it is better this way - that i can't explain it by words - only for a few
seconds does it feel real enough to say.

they can't be put into words, or feelings.
it's EXPLOSIONS IN THE SKY
and in my head,
my eyes, and skin exhale.
my body radiates... passion?
idk
maybe love...?
it could be calls from people you haven't heard of in awhile.

+++
the dictionary should be full of diction's and meanings that describe a certain personal situation
that can only be defined by experience.

isn't that how we truly know and understand?

it's all the same, i'm in love with rediscovering the meaning of things.
for example, that I cannot attain Gods love, yet i have it in full.

- those sorts of facts are almost second nature, you know that like the
back of your hand. yet to experience it, --not even to feel it--
but to have a personal experience to draw from. ah! I think that's real knowledge. Ah!
+++

and as for 2011, [in His cup] very much so tangible.
about 4 1/2 years or so. give or take. it actually depends on how much we have attained in love so far.

oh how we long for unity.

and sleeping on stomachs, is initial and utter less joy! because of connection.
breakfast and wetness and sunrise and LORPHAN06' and coffee and zippys and love and last night and worship and starts and stars and stats and to forget status! OH how this is life is so good.
yet all i know, is that I love You, more than life.

let's have it,
let's have our fill until the morning. and over and over again. with You.

but of course.

2006-09-19T23:02:00.000-10:00

Oh God,

I heard that You do good things, and You're pretty famous around here. I was just thinking - You know that I think a lot - and I was wondering if You would save us. Not necessarily from any impending danger, or force. But sadly, an internal opposition. Lord, come to the rescue please. In these places where You seem so obscure, it's here that that my heart is aligned. All of my trust and hope is in You; I am poured out. Father, break up this fallow ground, we are waiting until You rain down your righteousness on us.
You are with us.

and so, Lord, Your kingdom come, Your will be done. Please.
we are open.

in Jesus' name amen&
love landon

2006-09-15T00:08:00.000-10:00

i am trying to remember this guy, he was really humble and kind. sort of violent, but in the most perfect way. an ambassador of love type of thing. he was a carpenter.
i wonder if he was any good? well, the point is that i'm trying to remember, real hard.

i want to talk like it's the last few conversations i'll ever have here again:

spaceman spifff1: yeah, hey! check me out http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=26940322

landon lovenvoy: is that a virus?

spaceman spifff1: haha, no

landon lovenvoy: is THIS a virus?

landon lovenvoy: yeyeahhh

landon lovenvoy: camer?

spaceman spifff1: i dont know, i stumbled upon it looking for a picture of lacrosse sticks.

spaceman spifff1: but it is like me

landon lovenvoy: haha that's funny

landon lovenvoy: yeah that's werid

spaceman spifff1: read his profile and everything too

spaceman spifff1: ?

landon lovenvoy: yeah i was reading it haha.

spaceman spifff1: so strange.

landon lovenvoy: i think all of us has one of those

spaceman spifff1: if only i played soccer

landon lovenvoy: yeah haha

landon lovenvoy: i'm sort of excited to hear the girls teach this sunday

spaceman spifff1: me too

spaceman spifff1: should be interesting

landon lovenvoy: yeah, hah

landon lovenvoy: OH have you been reading the book?

spaceman spifff1: not yet

landon lovenvoy: that would be really funny if you hate it

spaceman spifff1: haha, yeah...

landon lovenvoy: do you think it's too much and all?

landon lovenvoy: doing this series by ourselves with everything else we need to do

spaceman spifff1: you know. i wasa thinking about that. but i am kinda excited to do it. and i think having the fall brake will help.

landon lovenvoy: that's true yeah

landon lovenvoy: i didnt' think about fall break

landon lovenvoy: WE CAN DO IT!

spaceman spifff1: yeah, and i will get the guys to help us make videos.

landon lovenvoy: yeah haha that will be good

landon lovenvoy: what are you doing up

spaceman spifff1: was doing homework. but now i am talking to alex

landon lovenvoy: oh cool, i'm gettting really tired and it's weird

spaceman spifff1: hah, yeah

spaceman spifff1: its how normal people are

landon lovenvoy: shoot, i hate this normal stuff

landon lovenvoy: i wonder if chris got mauled by the cat yet

spaceman spifff1: lol.

spaceman spifff1: so are you just up because youre landon?

landon lovenvoy: yeah, im trying to write a new post on blogspot

spaceman spifff1: ahh, ok

landon lovenvoy: yeah

landon lovenvoy: myeyes are heavy though

landon lovenvoy: today i met a really sweet girl

spaceman spifff1: o yeah? where and when was this?

landon lovenvoy: 5th period in mr ts class

spaceman spifff1: a junior?

landon lovenvoy: she's a TA for this other teacher for that period but she went to Mr Ts instead

landon lovenvoy: senior

spaceman spifff1: o ok

spaceman spifff1: whats her name?

landon lovenvoy: i'm not sure, but we just talked behind his desk

spaceman spifff1: haha

landon lovenvoy: haha,

landon lovenvoy: she's very simple looking

landon lovenvoy: she's kind

spaceman spifff1: christian/>

spaceman spifff1: ?

landon lovenvoy: i was JUST asking myself the same question

spaceman spifff1: haha

landon lovenvoy: i couldn't tell, she used the word "bitchy"

spaceman spifff1: lol

landon lovenvoy: but then again we yelled "FUCK" outside of the car window lastnight

spaceman spifff1: hmmm

spaceman spifff1: haha

spaceman spifff1: but not with strangers in the car

landon lovenvoy: hah, that's true

spaceman spifff1: so you never met her before?

landon lovenvoy: i sort of have, but only for like a few seconds you know

spaceman spifff1: yeah. whats she look like?

landon lovenvoy: japanese

landon lovenvoy: 5'4ish
landon lovenvoy: filled out

landon lovenvoy: long hair

landon lovenvoy: she's cute

spaceman spifff1: "filled out" like rachael, or like bigger?

landon lovenvoy: like rachael except taller i thi nk

landon lovenvoy: so not as..

landon lovenvoy: dude, rachael would throw up and die if she read this

spaceman spifff1: i like filled out though

landon lovenvoy: me too

2006-09-06T11:58:00.001-10:00

I'm aiming for significance and cleverness. wisdom and faith, water and fire, passion and rest.
All things above the sun
All things under the heavens(3),
Being homeless, Chinese waters, Companionship for both of these instances.

Love, camaraderie, friendship.
molecular destination. forget laptops, go back to parchment and pen. Then maybe library computer in civilization.
Forget sleep, excel in naps. save time, money, energy, save conversation.

Regardless Relentless Nevertheless.
I'm here to rise above and press on.

Fragment thoughts, fragments on the floor, hanging from wall to wall.
dripping out of telephone receivers. twisting out of hand guns.

And we talk about a love, this love, read the back logged archives of my brain.
right side, left hand. left eye, right tilt of the cheek accentuating the false dimple on the South-eastern hemisphere of my face/bone structure.

i love to love
i live to live
i love to live
i live to love

-but something more creative and sentimental.

Plus, I will be homeless in this place.
heck, my home is in heaven.
where's a vagabond to go anyway?

only forward baby, only forward.

2006-08-29T20:53:00.002-10:00

So this is strange.
a new post within 24 hours? does that mean i'm on the net like 24/7?.
it does.

And let me tell you, I have every intention to bring a sword, to speak with a certain fire, to walk and breathe in a sort of mystical awe. not in a pre-defined glazed over, spacey flower child type, but in a sense that everything is illuminated.

I sit here in my comfortable padded and adjustable chair, eating my frozen cluster of grapes pondering the ideas of intimacy with a far away God that is sometimes too close. and what is other people to me? is there a shred of passionate compassion or an unearthly desire to console, to break the chains of the oppressed?
Who I am is only definable in terms with something that is not subject to change. ever.
and supposedly, God speaks and light flashes, so He's capable of moving at the speed of light, and scientists have discovered that if you move at the speed of light, you wouldn't age a bit.

It's all very relevant and i speak with a strange sense of authority on my own life, that is, with not only Chinese waters, the tunic that i am about to purchase, that tattoo i've been fixated with, the jacket, and illumination of the heart, i am trying to be something. i'm trying to be grown-up and in control.
when in fact, i am young and insecure.

this morning, i was reminded that i don't have a job. at first i was like, hmm that's sort of sad, but in thinking, heck, if i follow this calling to the fullest, i will never be employed and i'm freaking okay with that as ever.

Status, Status, Status. will be overturned in no time.
All of these kingdoms, brought to it's knees.
Our lives, to end, to begin to dance and to keep on. cycle and repeat.

So who am I?
What am I doing here?

well, my name is landon. i'm a full time love envoy. i attempt (and do it sometimes)
to love ferociously and with all i possibly can and am. i was born in august, reborn in march, but i'm still a leo. i'm also a lamb. i cry daily, if not with tears, with the bursting of my flesh
heart. i forge through, i push my way through all of the crap of this life, i take beauty for what it is: trees during the sunrise, the glow in a girls eyes, grapes on a vine and dew on leaves. i am a man after Gods own heart, i am a man of God with a purpose. A vagabond, truly.
I am part of a chosen generation and also a royal priesthood.
and i was adopted and loved from day one. but above everything i just said.
above all things,

i am a child of the Lord, and in Him i find all that i need.

2006-08-28T23:39:00.000-10:00

Lift Him, Where?

I've been reading lots of books lately, as if with the increasing heat of the slow&harsh post-summer retaliation of ribbons and lines comes a hunger for knowledge.
I've been wasting too much time on consonance: and of being comfortable, as a friend told me this past weekend. It's okay to be jagged and fierce.

But about the main point.
lift Him where? & let me tell you, it's so easy to make signs, to protest in
mobs, angry - and in the name of love- mobs. That's actually spectacularly modern.
disgustingly true, and completely acceptable. We could put Him up on buildings(i have), on billboards, bumper stickers, heck, we could tattoo His face on our flesh.
This isn't foreign, we see it everywhere and I'm not seeing an increase of anything but the scandalous capitalizing of the scandalous cross, and that's scandalously scary.

So in a deeply shallow idealization, lets tattoo Him on our heart and lift Him up in our love.
If we're going to offend people, let's do it with a sword, with fire, and of course a banner of LUV.
Cause right now, we are ninjas of the night, so let's do a back flip out of this darkness.

The time has come, the world needs to see what's up.

and guess what comes next?

2006-08-21T23:11:00.000-10:00

follow Me.

So i'm off on my pilgrimage. A fews years down the line away, ducks in a row and such. I guess i'm being more deliberate and percise with information and vocabulary that COULD SLICE!
Haha, but in short, it's true. i've been so unfaithful to blogspot.

But lately i've been standing in the gap, on my knees, teary-eyed, hands up, out of the boat, rising up, bowing down, speaking slow, breathing in, moving mountains, smiling deep, and standing against the wind. I've been glad all the time, which still has space for heart break action, right?
It does.

and it's 11:11 right now. i wish that everybody would just grow up.

there you go, i'm finished.
it's so easy to quit things, like people, conversations, myspace, drag races, holding your breath.
but it's not so easy to quit things like: Love(and or Yahweh,) ((make fun of Him and i'll jump on a plane with a box cutter, high jack it and send the screaming passengers and flight crew to your mothers house.)) isn't that like being faithful to your god?
yeah, i'd go up in flames. with Love though.

----LOVE LANDON(not self-proclaimed or righteous or in need of recognition or fame or glory or power or swiftness of diction or anything else, this is the most non-poetic-emolicious-unsavvy-eclectic!!!-loud-softandvelvety-post you will ever find!

read it and weep.

2006-07-22T22:26:00.000-10:00

We're more than just candles more than just kids with money with time with people. we are lights; torches. we are a family, yes a mixed community. growing, we struggle we fight, we don't talk as much as we should, but we sure as heck love.

and that's the beauty of it. we are beautifully and fearfully made. molded in holiness. constructed and made perfect by blood and wounds and a cross. a cross that we carry daily, and a life that we pick up in every moment of the day. we die and we do it together.

we are a band and we band together, that's where the commanded blessing is said to be and we live it out, as fiery mothers with something on our mind. yes on our mind, singluar, for we think and breath and walk and talk as one organism, planning, plotting, growing, shaking, exploding and shining. we are the ninjas of the night, we come to take your children and make them see, yeah we kidnap hearts and ask for a ransom far more valuable than your everyday dollar. we ask for you, we ask for you to come and see the revolution with your own eyes. as for safety, we operate under the most dire circumstances, we thrive on excitement and only the good kind.

we are an army of lovers, a band of brothers[&sisters] hoping in Something that is unseen. trusting in this Rock that we stand on. it's actually a really funny thing, we laugh, we cry and we die - daily, again and again.

we don't do this for ourselves, this is only a response. this is the gift that we give back to Him. something that was His in the first place, that one of us was given, but screwed it up, turned it upside down and so His Son had to regulate, to live to love and to die to be raised up as the first to be reborn, and never die (beat that). and pretty much the coolest thing that could have ever walked the earth is the one we praise and raise - our lives to.

this is to Him that is with us and to Him who never leaves me alone.
thanks for that.

2006-06-26T02:01:00.001-10:00

i was talking to a few guys today, most of them going into high school. talking about how the Way, in our culture today has many facets, but mostly of dull and uninteresting facts. i kept using the word "urge" and i use that word on a daily basis. but anyway, just talking to them, looking up and down, even side to create some sort of connection. really though, how do you connect? how do i live violently? enough to where my heart bleeds, enough to a certain point, that my pace of breathing changes. a peak of when every fiber of every atom is laid down. -oh, just found out i got a 1450 on my SATs, haha that's like below average kev said, but back to urgency.

lets take a fast one out of this mentality. this life is dangerous, violent, crazy, daring, fun, peaceful, joyful, sad, eternal, righteous, green, dry, steadfast, pure, everything you could ask for.

i kept telling them that this isn't what it really is. our faith, our Way, isn't like this. i was urging them on to the promise of His spirit being poured out unto us, all people. whoever desires. i got a few smiles, nervous looks. both good, but not enough. i want to see lives laid down. i want to see the rising up of a generation more than i want the sun to rise in a few hours. i want to see life, and see it more abundantly. i want to ramble on and on and make complete sense over and over. everytime.i want to show how violently urgent my love is for my God and for my breathern. i want to speak with a tounge of fire, everyday, every hour, all times. i want to touch people and infuse life into them. man oh man, i want to be that light.