In Heaven's Wake.

The more I think about it, the more selfish it is.

Isn't life... so much more? So much more than materialistic and monetary value? Much more than gain?
Isn't life so much more than me? And yet, we are so wrapped up in ourselves that we have no time for others.
We label them; student, worker, businessman, police woman. But who are they? Does no one know? Can anyone identify an individual? Does anyone know someone's life story, besides their own?
We can't. We simply cannot, even for the hope of the world.

Life is more than superficiality, gain, riches. Everyone knows it. But for those without hope, who else can they turn to?

---
I've written a story, but I will not have a direct post of it. I have provided a link to it; click here if you wish to read. By no means do I abuse such a time as this... And with everything I have, I mean it in the deepest of respects.

But I just wanted to say.. sorry. For I'm so caught up in my own skin, that I have no time to mourn for you. But I earnestly pray that you are lifted up to a place of rest, and a place where it is okay for you to cry. For He comforts. And He loves.

But I am torn. For it is especially times like these where I want to jump out of my own skin; to escape it, and forget about my own selfish and insignificant desires. I want to cry with them... And yet, I feel that myself has once again drawn centre focus. And it is a wretched feeling. My spirit is perturbed... But life, far greater, far beyond comprehension, and all I can think of is myself?
Selfish. And as silly as ever.

But even in my deepest regret of narcissism, my condolences go out to you. As hopeless, as selfish, and as greedy as I am, with little goodness that is in my heart, I give you Love. If not mine, His. For I know that He sees your strength, and how you stand. He knows the innermost depths of your heart. And just as He fell from the skies, so too, along with you, in all your inequities and pain, He is lifted on high in glory.

Hosanna,
Amen.

---
I do not seek approval, I do not seek attention.

RIP, for you wake up in heaven.

Sarah.

Alluring Reminisce.

Hello. (:

Be eagerly anticipatory of my story, of which I will post soon.... No, I'll be generous. Make that two stories, because I am guilt-ridden for my unexplained near-one-month absence.
There is no excuse, but there are reasons which I can only give with a slight grimace, but I'll smile it out.

Year 12.
It really is the most overwhelming breath of reality I have experienced so far.

Pray for me, please? I cannot go on without Him.

It is a mediocre post today. Significant to one. That one is perhaps only me, though there are two addressed here. I do not mean for it to be sad, for I am only filled with love for my past, which has weathered me away to who I am today. I hope you enjoy the style, if nothing else.

---
"To: Doofus
From: Awesome"

I closed my eyes, and imagined. Well - I tried to imagine anyway. There is only so much I can work with. All I have left are tiny fragments, but I feel that I have been robbed of all the adjoining pieces, left only with tattered, confusing pieces that I just do not understand. You know, I probably did understand once... it feels like a lifetime ago now. But now, I just can't connect anything together. I can remember nothing.

And yet there is this empty feeling. It's as if I should have something there - almost as if you should be there, but that is just silly, because you're not. Nevertheless, this is it: the feel is like a room, windswept, papers scattered everywhere, but everything is deafeningly silent and dangerously still. With it, the wind stole my memories of you.

But I have dug up some sort of creature - it's not real of course, only a stuffed animal. It sees with no eyes, has a large tummy with no food. It is strangely reminiscent of my birthday. Yes. I think you gave that to me as a present. Praise the heavens that I remember something, I suppose. Oh- and with it came a card from you. Of course; how could I forget? Our mutual yet pointless obsession of a colour; it adorned the otherwise naked envelope... its contents really were naked too. I definitely believe this is true, even now: that I heard you laugh when I opened it.

But I can't seem to remember that strange sound, that laugh of yours, despite the acoustics of this room I'm in. I should be hearing something - I'm straining to hear something. But nothing is there. Even the faint echo of your voice is nowhere to be found.

And what are these figments of my imagination? They are bountiful and boundless. I've looked at so many; and they are all so incomplete... and yet, my mind is completely covered. They portray a face- or rather, various facets that, if correctly placed, may perhaps reveal the slight resemblance of a face. Essentially, they all make up one thing, but I cannot grasp the product of all these fallen fragments of information. They are useless to me... but they aren't meant to. They are here for a reason... but for what? It is a question I am unable to answer.

Nonetheless. They must be here for a purpose. You, after all, were in my life for a purpose. And memories of you, as disintegrated they may seem, and as emptied as I am of them, there are pieces- very small, very insignificant pieces, that remind me of that something in you that even a fool is smart enough to treasure.

So, I bid you fare-thee-well, and I leave you on good-graces. May whatever these segments of what seem to only point to you stay or go as they please - perhaps carried away - or otherwise, left in this room as that one reminder that you were once significant in my life.

Take care, and I wish you love from here, to wherever you are now.

LOL, Sarah.