I'm not crazy, I had a fever when I thought this.

not born ugly

she became it in the 1^st grade

outcast by her own people

black people, beautiful people

what a shame

she lives in the ugli house

puke brownish

blood reddish

ugly duckling

that's me

(bullied in the 1^st grade at yeah, an all-black school...awful, awful year of my life... ever since then I felt aloof from my own people, I felt like I was never good enough to be with certain Black folk. Internal problem, yes, emotional one, yes. I just knew I didn't fit in – being a nerd who liked to study with funky hair- and I accepted my outcast status. Kicked and punched, on the ground. Still here I am. Standing up now. But on the outside, looking in. Again, again.)

" A heart wounded often enough, turns to stone." So said an infamous woman on TV recently, who I'm not gonna name here.

I find myself incapable of trusting people again. Need to stop that. Yes, some good people out there. Somewhere.

On Memorial Day we went to my grandmother's grave. My momma cried. My aunts cried. I didn't cry. I been sad since she passed away. Yeah. Still, she seems so close to me. I cried for her when she went away. But I don't cry now. Because I feel like she right here for me all the time. I remember all the wise things she told me. They precious in my chest.

It's harder to say goodbye to friends. They are still living, yet feel so far away when they are on the other side of the continent, and soon I will be gone abroad and we will be on two completely different continents, separated by an ocean. As you get older, you notice there are fewer people who really can understand you. It is such a treasure to have someone else you have shared many good memories with, some sad perhaps as well, and know that they will always have your back. And when you have a scarred back from people who have lied to you and betrayed you in the past, besides your heart that is also weeping blood all the time, it is so precious to feel that some people do care.

I do deeply believe that everyone has someone who cares about them, besides of course God. God always loves and he don't care if I ugly or what. My family does try to care for me, but sometimes I feel like I am in icy water and I can't hear them very well. I really like my cat. He is insane, whenever he sees me he throws himself down on the ground like he has seen a queen. He makes me laugh. He likes me a lot. I like to pet him. I want to rub him again soon. But I don't like love bites.

Sorry Everyone!

Sorry I haven't updated in a while, ladies and gentlemen.

I am still dedicated to this blog, just it's hard for me to think of something to post here which is not overwhelmingly depressing based on my feelings at the moment. I think I should have something soon though. Hopefully by the end of this week. So thank you everybody who has sent me an encouraging message so far. I'm still here. Planning to do missionary work. Just a lot of setbacks and delays everywhere.

Take care,

Ugly Duckling.

Another parable

My name is The Ugly Duckling.

My entire life, I was talked about, lied to, kicked, and abused. Living didn't seem worth the pain, but I continued breathing because for some reason I felt that I could bring some joy to my mother, who was abandoned by the love of her life.

Last year in October, I thought someone loved me. My heart beat faster than it ever did before. By the end of this August, I realized that everything was smoke and mirrors- nothing more than a misunderstanding. At the bitter end, I was fortunate enough to escape without having my neck wrung, my feathers plucked, and being the cut into pieces to become the ingredient in someone's stew.

I looked at myself, and realized that I was no swan. I remain a nobody with dirty feathers who lives inside of a trash can and who cannot fly.

Are you like me? Are you still searching?

Stop looking for love!

You think you are pursuing a person, but you are actually running in circles. Why don't you stop, stand still, and allow the truth to catch up with you.

Although nobody can see it. . . you are a swan right now.

You are already the Beloved. You are already the chosen one. You are the object of the most perfect love that is possible.

God loves you with a love that does not end, that does not get tired, will not quit, that burns hotter than a thousand suns, and runs deeper than the Marinaras trench.

As for that romantic love . . . of you & me . . . I give up on that.

But I'll never give up on that Agape love of God & me. That's the good stuff.

No matter how poor & pitiful I am, I'll never lose my taste for what is truly beautiful & truly good.

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I've completely despaired of reaching my once-precious goal of befcoming a novelist. Seems I'm too old. Too many things are left half-written. Guess I've stopped believing in myself.

My last post on Xanga I thought was pretty good. Actually it got few hits and was the most unpopular ever. I think six people read it. And I know my work here will never be featured because I mention God here and Xanga hates God.

Still I write. Like a fool.

Happy New Year.  

A parable on Christmas Day... blessings to y'all

A recent visitor to my site here (who is not a believer) said "you will never reach me with vague poetic ramblings." Yeah, she did pay me a little compliment by saying that I appeared to be "a nice person." Still, she did insult my writing.

    So I want to ask you, dear reader, what do you think? Do you think that my writing is worthless? Am I wasting my time with this blog? Tell me what you think. Should this poor missionary stop dreaming of being a professional writer?

    I'm not sure if anyone else here may consider it worthwhile now... anyways, I want to present to you a parable. I wrote recently. It means a lot to me.

    How I ended up writing it was unusual too. I was inspired to write it immediately after waking up- almost word for word. However, the first time that I had the inspiration to write it, I was very groggy and sleepy and did not immediately write it. I laid in bed for about another twenty or thirty minutes, but when I reached for my journal I couldn't remember a thing! I was crushed... I thought for sure I had the idea of something great.

    That night, before I went to bed, I prayed, "God, I know I screwed up by not immediately jumping up and writing that idea down. Please forgive me and give me that idea over again when I wake up tonight."

    And the next night, when I did awaken, I had the idea again. I wrote everything down immediately, with little pause or editing. And that is rare for me, the perfectionist. So I present to you, a parable...

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 A knight ventures forth to slay a dragon. As the dragon lives in a cave atop a mountain, the knight straps his sword and his lance to his horse to ride into the nearby forest. That forest, they say, is enchanted. 

 For seven days and seven nights, he rides in a darkness so thick that he cannot see his hand before his face or his trusty steed. To his surprise, he encounters no enemies. He has no need to touch his sword or lance in the forest. Nevertheless, he realizes that even before he has confronted the dragon, this quest is by far the most challenging one that he has ever encountered. 

 In the abscence of light, it is the darkness of his own heart that he must battle against. His own fears and his past failures attack him endlessly during his waking hours, and even appear veiled to him in his dreams. With every step forward, he feels like a little more of his courage and strength drains away. 

 The knight has not yet reached the dragon, so we cannot say if he will succeed or fail at his task. However, as the knight draws near to his destination, two things are clear. The first is that the time spent in preperation to do great things is much more impartant than we can ever know. The second is that the greatest enemy does not come in from outside... the greatest enemy is always within.

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     As we prepare to enter the New Year of 2009, I hope that you are thinking of how you can prepare yourself for a good year. What can you do better? What do you need to do differently? How can you help others?

      "It is easy to imagine that we will get to a place where we are complete and ready, but preparation is not suddenly accomplished, it is a process steadily maintained." -Oswald Chambers

       Merry Christmas and I hope you have good New Year as well for 2009.

Beggars

When I pass someone asking for change on the street, usually I pass them by at first. "This person does not deserve a handout," I often think. Many times after five steps though, I will return to give them a donation- because God has spoken softly to my heart. "Ah, but I have never deserved anything that God has ever given me,"  I remember.

P.S. Next post will be a parable that I wrote which means a lot to me. It's going to take me a little while to be able to psychologically let go of it for free, but I hope I can do that soon and post it. Yes, I'm poor in part because I give away my writing. But I want maximum folk to read it. If my writing gets good enough, I will publish my novel...