12.09.2007

Fight all the while, fight 'til I think I'm free...

I wish I could fix everything.  If I could, I swear it would probably kill me.  There are literally things I would die to be able to fix.  Probably things that aren't even worth dying for.  I'm a fixer.  I want to just get it worked out and keep everyone happy and for no one to be hurt or be angry or mistreated or lonely.  I want to fix everyone's hearts so they never hurt the ones I love, and I want to fix the ones I love so they see how much I do, in fact, love them.  I want the world to understand the way I do right now, and I want to fix the world so that it's better at showing it than I've ever been.  I want to make everything else into everything I wish I was.  That truly sums it up.  I want the guy who said something stupid today to understand why it doesn't matter.  I want the girl that I wish liked me more to realize that I'm not stuck up, I just don't know how to talk to people, and that she intimidates me because she does.  I want the boy I never knew to come back home, because it's unfair that he had to go, and because in the world I wish this was dreams don't shatter into a million pieces, like they seem to here.  I want the girl with the disabilities to know that I would take it all on for her in a heartbeat, and that she's never alone.  I want the boy who judges everyone based just on what he sees to realize that I hear everything he says and I don't believe a word, because he doesn't know them any more than he knows me.  I want the one who never doubted me to stop doubting himself, because I believe in him.  I want my belief in him and in others to be enough, to be satisfactory.  I want the full to feed the hungry, and the hungry to love the rich, and the rich to love the lonely, and the lonely to befriend their enemies, and those that misunderstand to try to get it, and the misunderstood to realize that it's okay, because they are valued despite their state of being unknown.  I want to solve the world's problems, paint over all the flaws and plaster over the rough edges.  I want to make everything else into everything I wish I was.

Sincerely,
Butterfly

5 comments:

Summer Lee said...

Yeah! Amen, Sister.
Summer Lee

Hans said...

I hope, fervently, that all of us feel like that. I think, although I'm not positive, that it's the grief we share with God about our fallen world when we're closest to Him, and can feel a hint of the ache that He does when He sees the things we go through.

It's just a theory, I suppose.

On a purely literary note, you've articulated fantastically something I probably never could. Kudos.

Anonymous said...

I am right there with you, Marabelle.

I wonder what will happen when the heart and mind of Mara Tenille Dickens are one day fully unlocked. I hope I'm somewhere nearby.

On a lighter note, you are funny when you rearrange Target merchandise to cover up toy tarantulas. I believe your words were, "No one wants to look at that."

"This is a display pony." That was funny, too. He liked it when you were brushing him, though.

I need a list of CD's, please. [/elf]

I hope your tea is helping your throat. It's only appropriate to drink tea while reading Emma, anyway.

Anonymous said...

WAIT! DON'T GO TO BED YET! I'M BRINGING YOU SOME VITAMIN C AND SOME ECHINACEA!

Anonymous said...

This is funny. I found a paper that had MASH on it. Apparently, you are marrying Carter Harms and you're going to drive a clown car.

You need to take the Chex quiz. I'm corn. I'm also Elizabeth Bennett. And you're Jane. That's funny to me.

The snowglobe application is not working. Some computer gibberish about the proxy server. I WANT MY STINKIN' SNOWGLOBE.

You have a lot of notebooks.

I am excited for next semester for you, Marabelle. Isn't God good? *clap*

Don't forget to bring Joshua and Mikayla home with you. *laugh*