People say...

People say hard times make us stronger. Maybe the first couple times, but after that...tragic times takes a toll. I feel like I should be so strong right now, but instead I feel I can barely stand. So, why do people say that...why...
It gives me something to talk about certainly, or to give a word of advice or encouragement. I guess I know what should happen, but its not whats happening. It feels like a fast fall backwards down a steep hill. If I stop myself, I'll only hang there till I get tired and continue falling. Shouldn't I be able to climb confidently up that steep hill?
Everyday I search for hope. For something small to start to work out. The missing pieces start to be put in to place and instead I lose more pieces. Make more mistakes. Lose more. And hate more. I don't need to know HOW it will all work out, I just need to know it WILL all work out.
Should I stop in all this tension and breathe in its beauty? How is it that tension is even beautiful? How is it that everything around me can be such a mess and I still smile knowing it is a beautiful mess of a life?
I can feel my heart hardening inside my chest. I have shut down parts of myself in order to continue on. I do things I don't even realize until it's too late. So, again I ask, how can people say these things will make me strong, when this is the reality of what's happening? If someone could explain that to me, I will listen.
The heart is the source of the bodies life. When it stops, so does the body. The heart is strong, but even the heart can die. There is always hope, but where does the hope lie? And where can I find it anymore? I'm just searching...for answers and reasons...and if there are none, so be it. But there's no harm in asking. Or thinking aloud.

A bit of this and that.

Nothing like writing a blog post sitting at Starbucks drinking and iced coffee. I must ponder a thousand things at once cause I find myself thinking about a hundred things and don't even realize it. Like what is the purpose of my life, where wi I end up, why do people not see the tension like I do, do people think about life as in-depth as I do? Anyway you get the point. And then randomly I'll be thinking about why this girl is flirting with this guy when the next day she walks by with her boyfriend(different guy). It's none of my business but it's messed up. Why do you wake up in the morning? And don't say it's because you have to go to work, or you have rehearsal, or a date with a friend, or because you need to clean the house...why do yu wake up and get out of bed in the morning? Are you so excited about life? Yes it's a rather deep question. I try to determine my answer and never come up with a good enough reason. I need intense reason to get up and to keep getting up. Because I don't always feel happy or peace or joy. I mean, sometimes I cry myself to sleep thinking there is no hope for tomorrow, and then somehow I manage to get up the next morning and eventually it gets better.

I think the real joy lies in knowing all of this exist and knowing somehow even though I feel all this despair, I still have purpose. Like I'm meant to do something and be something. Hope is more than Just knowing things will get better, it's knowing deeply that there is reason and purposE. I don't even know why I'm writing this, there's just been lots of pain, and hurt lately and that's hard to get through on a whim. Or wake up with a hope that it might get better, but that it will get better. That I can make it better. That I am not helpless and alone or afraid.someday I'll actually belIeve this...for now I'll just keep telling myself this. To find peace in chaos, and to find love n everyone. It sounds good to me.

On to the next project...

This is the wedding scene from the play I just finished called 'The Pastor'. It turned out to be a really incredible show. I'm just sad its over cause now it seems I have nothing to do. And I just love theater, so I'd love to be on stage almost every day(not possible. I know this).

So on to my next project. This project is called KC Superstar. Tomorrow I meet with our vocal coach and he is going to help me pick my song. Not sure what to expect so this should be interesting. Then will come our various dance and vocal rehearsals. And ultimately we'll compete for finals on August 28th in Yardley Hall at JCCC. I'm pretty pumped and nervous for that day. So anyway, that's my next project. Besides that and 2 trips I'm going to keep this summer pretty simple. I think that's all I'll be able to handle. And who knows about school in the fall. Somanydecisions.
Also, if you haven't seen Green Lantern, it's good. Ryan Reynolds too. Gooood.

A tribute to my father: Matthew McGraw

His and my journey had just begun. I guess it wasn't meant to be. He changed my life. THIS has changed my life. I will never forget him. I love and miss you, dad. Goodbye.

Why should I dream...

Even as I cringe, and crawl
to the pit of despair,
I know it is wrong
and yet, I do not care.
The horror awaits me,
and I am left to face me.

How can I hope to understand. First, how can I hope? And why should I? It is but a night, and tomorrow the sun will spring up and wash away all the sorrows that drench the earth this very night.
Why does one sit in the darkness? To wait, and wait. A red eye piercing my heart from across the room. When I turn on the light, it is only the light from my tv. Turn off the light, and it begins to frighten me. The wind tears through the trees outside, and a slight tap tap tap as the rain smacks the pavement. And yet I still wait for you...in the darkness...frozen.
Death...it is cold, and soft. Awakening from someone else's dream, in to my very own. Forever.
There is no difference, only the transition between life and death. And then life starts all over again.
Why must I be insightful, and knowledgeable. If life is really so desperate and destructive why do we fight it? Because we hate the pain. Or do we?
I come off a high sometimes. Not a drug high, not an emotional high, but a high of getting the tasks appointed to me done on time and in time. Then I crash and question myself. Who am I? Why am I?
Compassion? Mercy? Kindness? Where do they exist in this world? Anywhere? If I can not even give them to the person I love, than to who? And who will give them to me? I'm TIRED of being strong. I'm tired...

It's been raining a long time now...

I never want to speak again.

I never write anything worth reading. Everything I write is what's inside my head, my opinion of things, my thoughts, my feelings. I didn't sit at the computer and carefully think and plan what I was going to say. I just...write it. I can make up stories. I used to write all kinds of stories when I was little. Some that were true and some that I made up.
I don't really remember having really awesome aspirations when i was younger. I wanted to be a veterinarian, I still kind of do actually. I always thought I'd make a good writer...but there are much better writers out there than I will ever be.
I played a lot of pretend when I was little. Constantly. It was like an escape. Probably an escape from wondering if my dad will come back to visit me. Or why he always went away. I was too little to understand any of what I was feeling. To this day I still feel too immature to handle what I feel sometimes.
I'd write notes on facebook, or on xanga(if we wanna go wayyyy back). People would never really say much. If anything. Oh gosh, I'm not looking for a pat on the back or admiration or "Wow Rachael, you are such an elegant writer. Keep it up!". I mean really, why would I want people to do that. Anyway, it just seemed it wasn't for me. Yet sometimes I would read others notes and people are commenting crazy hardcore about how amazing they are and I'm reading this note and thinking, "Um. Whats the big deal?". Everyone has an opinion I guess. Seems like the more you talk about God in a note the more comments you get? Just a guess.
I like poetry. Deep, dark, passionate poetry. I also like a good story. Something encouraging and a none 'the Bible says this and that kind of way and however you're feeling is wrong and you need to choose to not feel that way' kind of thing. Can you tell I'm speaking from experience?
Perhaps I'm too blunt, and too real.
It's just hard to be the bad guy all the time. To be the oddball of the group. To get the blame because you look like you can take crap. I'm sure you can guess I am not the type of person people look up to and admire in a social group. I always wanted to be though. I always wanted to be a great many things...

Want to know where I'm at tonight? I'm sitting on my bed, typing, a blanket wrapped around me, watery eyes, looking at my phone every minute, knowing I am nothing significant, and afraid to go to sleep. No list of things I want to accomplish, no great plans for tomorrow, no good feeling I'm doing anything right. No, no. It's just me sitting here wanting to never speak again. I know I have a voice, it just feels like no one wants to hear it.

To understand.

Is it so hard to understand someone? Sometimes...sometimes I just don't. Sometimes I am not understood. When both things happen simultaneously, I feel like throwing my hands in the air and repeating the word 'cuss' over and over.
It's the night before my last two finals. Its the night after a long fun day outside. Its the night where I lay here wondering if I got hit by a train because my body hurts so bad. Its the night where I don't understand and am not understood.
Do I analyze too much? Maybe some things are better off not being looked at too closely. Maybe some things we should look at closely, but have never really given it a thought.
Most of the time I find things don't make sense. Not to me anyway. I feel like a child sometimes going about life thinking I need to get my act together. Sometimes I feel I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. Like somehow I'm not fit to live anymore, or be anything.
Why are people so quick to tell you exactly what you've done to them, but in return don't want to talk about what they did to you. Leaving everything to be your fault and them blameless. What if we first asked what we had done to hurt them? What if we were willing to give second chances and trust someone again completely? What if little unimportant things didn't bother us and we left more things up to God instead of to ourselves? What if we just waited to see what happened? What if...
To understand and to say you understand to someone and really mean it is like...taking a huge rock off someones back. Like by understanding, they now feel able to breath again.
To be understood, is like someone telling you they love you and picking you up on your feet, and walking hand in hand with you.
It feels good to understand, and to be understood. I wish I could feel that right now.