tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13362078529850673922012-02-16T19:51:43.462-08:00Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.comBlogger601100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-6208418312735030722010-09-26T14:24:00.000-07:002010-09-26T14:24:24.804-07:00

I wrote this on May 5, 2010, two days before my family had to take our dog to be put down. What keeps Puzzle alive? She is dying of cancer, and has no energy. She has trouble breathing, and most likely she’s in pain. Why doesn’t she just give up? I felt her heart. I think I did. I put my head up to her thin body, my ear right on her fur, and listened. It was still beating regularly, not missing

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-8983252787735493922010-08-20T17:54:00.000-07:002010-08-20T18:01:36.241-07:00

I was out and about today, walking around West Seattle, and on my way back home I noticed a perfectly placed bench in the shade of a big oak tree. It had everything you could want: a little green patch of grass, a couple flowers nearby, and it was a lot cooler than walking in the sun. As I passed under the tree, I noticed that the bench had a plaque on it. IN MEMORY OFJOHN SMITH1931-

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-7286206859578665372010-04-25T10:02:00.001-07:002010-04-25T10:02:52.857-07:00

What's better? To have a great dream, and wake up to find it's the opposite in reality? or To have a nightmare, and wake up to find out it is true?

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-62730425317508886872010-03-06T12:39:00.000-08:002010-03-06T12:46:34.558-08:00

I woke up this morning, and I realized that I have a massive collection of cool, sweet, funny pictures that I've found on the internet, including this one (thanks, xkcd): But recently, along with this very satisfying thought, I've been considering my lifestyle, and how it interacts with our access to enormous amounts of creative material via the internet. And especially how it correlates with

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-37439341349128789352010-02-28T23:15:00.000-08:002010-02-28T23:26:01.638-08:00

You should come! It's going to be quite epic, and I think I'm more excited for this show than I have ever been for any show. Jónsi - Go Do from Jónsi on Vimeo. There are apparently two dates, but me and Bob and Patrick and Lindsay are going on Friday, April 9. Showbox SoDo. http://jonsi.com/concerts

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-47137033216091650182010-02-18T22:17:00.000-08:002010-02-27T11:56:16.038-08:00

This is a list of movies I've been made fun of for not ever seeing, and that I still haven't seen but want to see. You've had it happen to you. Any time you're in a normal conversation and the topic turns towards movies, you think, "Alright, better wind up my arsenal and get ready," remembering the last seventeen movies you've seen and your favorite ones too in case anyone doesn't know THE BEST

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-31202616097073234702010-01-17T13:52:00.000-08:002010-01-18T22:25:40.337-08:00

* I have seen beauty in photographs I have seen beauty in pictures The curves, the colors, the tone Draw from me an irrepressible desire This unfortunate love that wells up Has seen its end time and time again When I caress these strokes with my fingers I have not seen beauty in the passers-by I have not seen love in the butterfly Even as it reaches to brush me in the street I pull my coat

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-43289726747022476822009-12-02T00:02:00.000-08:002009-12-02T00:06:05.946-08:00

I love apprising.org. It's like Christian smut. I look at it every once in a while, whenever I want to read alarmist rhetoric to feel more panicked about how much ground "real" Christianity is losing to "evanjellyfish" and the "existential rebellion against the final authority of the Bible" (Emergent movement), as well as a number of other terrible things that Christians are doing to subvert

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-74333115886291422732009-11-30T23:15:00.000-08:002010-01-02T22:20:31.739-08:00

Lately I've been reading up on Sufjan Stevens, while I've been getting even more into his music. In the process, I have a few confessions to make. Confession One: I have hardly listened to Sufjan Stevens at all. I mean LISTENED. I've known about Sufjan (one of the few indie artists that you call by first name if you choose between first/last) for quite a while, and I've had a few of his albums.

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-4118276014992328262009-11-27T19:05:00.001-08:002009-11-28T14:39:33.381-08:00

Rolling thunder. We hear it in the distance. The bass tones reverberate throughout our bedroom, rattling our bookcase and the toys in our toy box, and we can instantly identify its source. Sister runs out first, and I follow not far behind, barefoot. As soon as we cross the threshold of our front door, we're hit with a warm, humid rush of air and water and we cry out in delight, jumping up and

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-57090642933846239832009-11-18T00:09:00.001-08:002009-11-18T00:13:58.716-08:00

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-16560765113527384252009-11-15T23:25:00.001-08:002009-11-29T19:49:20.950-08:00

A young man, about as old as yourself (this is of course assuming you are approximately his age), left one day on a journey towards the apocalypse of his lifetime. He thought it would be appropriate to pack light, because not many people need many things after an apocalypse. He was one of the many, and thus left his apartment with one set of clothing, a pair of running shoes, and a backpack

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-28973935651236250502009-11-04T10:22:00.000-08:002009-11-28T14:40:01.840-08:00

I don't really care much about convention. That's not to say that I simply discard convention as useless. In fact, convention is how we tend to get by and communicate between each other and generally begin to understand things we don't initially know. For example, if there was no grammar or proper English sentence construction, no one would understand what another was saying (there's obviously a

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-75690127955348456782009-11-02T14:44:00.000-08:002009-11-28T14:40:12.077-08:00

* There is only an illusion between us It holds quite some weight And maybe we could tear it down A million tons a day Because, you see, it keeps growing And fading into dark Simultaneously appearing to be a little spark So we have this hope and we grasp on to it And we choose to choose that this illusion isn’t real But somedays it could get the best of us And somedays we could fail * Music

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-47045315395614141882009-10-27T00:33:00.000-07:002009-11-28T15:10:56.980-08:00

I want time and space. To breathe, think, walk, write, converse, care. I can't figure out what's going on in me sometimes. But midterms are coming up instead. Which is awesome. In these times, I kind of feel like a jackass to people I care about because my thoughts are always partially preoccupied with either how tired I am or what I have to do. I try to give them that time, but it's oh-so-hard.

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-78309515495672456442009-10-16T15:08:00.000-07:002009-11-28T15:11:05.961-08:00

To some, certain words are like magic. Like "Open Sesame," they lead one to a place that could never have been imagined possible. There is great richness and wonder to be found in these words for the one who lives them and speaks them carefully. But if these words are uttered with avarice and apathy, all will be lost - when the thieves come at night.

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-57033990397332332992009-10-16T12:12:00.001-07:002009-11-28T15:11:14.751-08:00

I am not a guitarist. Though I do play guitar. I am not a singer. Though I do love to sing. I am not a theologian. Though I do love to think and talk about God. I am not a reader. Though reading is fun to do. I am not a liar. Though sometimes it's hard to tell the truth. I am not a minister. Though I like serving others. I am not a Christian. Though I believe in and try to live the way of Jesus.

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-37552520080047503402009-10-14T12:50:00.000-07:002009-11-28T15:11:24.730-08:00

Big words are just shortcuts, so you don't have to say as much when talking about something. ex. "Eschatology recapitulates protology." Eschatology = the way things end Recapitulate = refer back to, sum up, and improve upon Protology = the way things begin So it means something like, "The way things end refers back to, sums up, and improves upon the way things begin." It's a lot quicker to

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-82677106375764887032009-10-02T18:16:00.000-07:002009-11-28T15:11:37.718-08:00

I gave up posting songs when I changed blogs years ago, but I think I'm feeling this one right now. When I was in South America, I would sing it to myself when I felt lonely. Not sure why. But I think it's my favorite song of my entire life. No joke. I'm more of a fan of the Nat King Cole melody than the Moulin Rouge (David Bowie) melody, but I do like that epic Moulin Rouge sound, even though

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-69808845253442928512009-09-28T11:57:00.000-07:002009-11-28T15:11:46.515-08:00

Strange. I must think passively. Whenever I'm writing essays, I always have a tendency to use the passive voice rather than the active voice to communicate something. i.e. instead of a normal person writing "The boy threw the ball to the dog," I would write "The ball was thrown to the dog by the boy." Aaah! I don't know why. Maybe I just naturally think of the direct and indirect objects

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-12027251888582588112009-09-22T21:14:00.000-07:002009-11-28T15:12:06.173-08:00

Keep my face from the ground, heathen. Hold my head back until you are so tired you can't even see through those blurry, red eyes. If I defile any part of myself, it is because of you. If I find the smallest speck of dirt on my nose, it is because of you. If I am not spotless after this, it is because of you. Do not let go, or you will face much more prolonged distress than this simple exertion

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-90758627757363701692009-08-10T19:16:00.001-07:002009-11-28T15:12:20.250-08:00

"But all I want is a glass of water! It doesn't even have to be cold! I don't need ice, I don't need a straw, I don't need a specific kind of container - I just want some water to drink." "Well, we have Kool-Aid™." "Can't you just give me Kool-Aid™ without the powder?" "We have Sobe™ Lifewater, we have VitaminWater™, we have almost anything you could ask for. Capri-Sun™, all varieties of

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-50634908796130528532009-07-08T14:21:00.000-07:002009-11-28T15:12:30.576-08:00

* I am a deep inkwell of self So dark that one drop could blot out The names on my history book The log that has been written Is delicately done In a script unrecognizable Except by me. Who has written it? Will I teach its language? Keep stored the ink until the end When there is no more need. * I’ve kept my face clean for years Nothing has marred my skin I think it’s become porcelain And we

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-37337807652004675012009-06-06T21:43:00.001-07:002009-11-28T15:12:43.125-08:00

I had a profound thought today, I think. But I neglected to write it down, and it's lost for who knows how long. I'm not a forgetful person, but details often slip through the cracks of my memory when I'm learning things. I learn through more of a sort of absorption or osmosis. I "feel" the song rather than "know" it. Lyrics are not my forte, and unless I deliberately attempt to commit a movie

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-25769876124464308922009-05-30T21:17:00.000-07:002009-05-30T23:52:24.227-07:00

I'm dramatic in my mind and passively impatient.I'm artistic in my soul but not verbally poetic.In my mind, everyone is creative and needs to be empowered to enact transformation somehow. We were made to create, not simply consume. And we can't all create the exact same thing, or exactly the same way.I've surprised myself with polarities in my thinking recently. I don't usually think that way,

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-82251413959477302652009-05-28T13:58:00.000-07:002009-06-23T14:22:58.973-07:00

Once, I told my friends a story. I think it was freshman year or something like that. We had all gathered in a dorm room somewhere and were hanging out, and somehow I just ended up making up a story for their entertainment. I don't remember the details or plot at all anymore, but I remember weaving this story on the fly, crafting a few simple characters and ideas that somehow worked and drove

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-17390921608465440412009-05-24T22:04:00.000-07:002009-09-22T21:37:06.455-07:00

"Did you hear about it? Someone told me the other day that I could find it here. So I came. I've been scouring the area for a while, lifting stones and whatnot, asking around, and calling out for it. No one has been able to tell me quite how to get to it. I'm pretty sure I'm in the right place, because I heard from multiple sources that this was the spot. So if it's not here, what does that mean?

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-86210426100442696012009-05-13T20:32:00.000-07:002009-06-23T14:24:18.987-07:00

Here's a few of the terrible youth group acronyms that can be found on youthpastor.com.I can just imagine saying to my friends back in high school, "Hey, are you going to SAG tonight?" or, "Man, I can't get enough of SARS!" or, "I'm part of...GRAB Youth Ministries!"ALIVE Youth Ministries – Armor, Love, Instrument, Visible, EternalANDY – A New Desire for YouthARM – American Revolution

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-43849796373182722202009-05-07T16:50:00.000-07:002009-09-22T21:37:26.972-07:00

The book sat there in the library, in a small corner on the fourth floor, and waited to be read. In fact, not only did the book itself wait, a small range of pages roughly 40 turns away from the exact center of the book waited. What were these pages waiting for? It was pretty obvious, really. They knew they were going to destroy one person's world and build it up again completely anew.The pages

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-68578829360920048812009-05-05T17:58:00.000-07:002009-06-23T14:25:36.309-07:00

"Geroff!""Geroff!"Maybe you recognize that word, maybe not. For some reason, it's kind of stuck with me ever since I read the Harry Potter series. It was the first book, I think, that Harry went over to Ron's house and they had to spin those gnomes out of the yard. "Geroff!" That's what the gnomes would say when they were helplessly flailing, trying unsuccessfully to get free from the grasp of

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-8235208436882431422009-04-14T17:21:00.001-07:002009-04-14T17:21:58.379-07:00

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-29519659467121269052009-03-14T13:52:00.000-07:002009-06-23T14:26:08.099-07:00

Here's some random, recent thoughts...Hope is future-oriented. No one ever hopes backwards...right? Except maybe Uncle Rico.Hope unfulfilled will always be hope unless the hope dies. People even hope for things they know they will never have.So my question is, what happens after hope is fulfilled? Is it not hope any longer? Does it transform into something else?/*\./*\./*\./*\./*\./*\./*\./*\./*\

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-14779197758499529992009-02-21T14:06:00.000-08:002009-02-21T14:30:08.146-08:00

Who knows what to do? I've just finished Kafka on the Shore, another of Murakami's novels.Who knows what most of it is actually supposed to mean. I don't even know (like the last one) how to describe everything it makes me feel. One thing I left with, though, was that there are so many dicey things in life and relationships that are not clean cut. Every person is an intense coagulation of

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-44539899500956025862009-02-08T15:57:00.001-08:002009-02-17T00:27:07.585-08:00

I wonder how soft our hearts would really feel in others' hands if we had built up no barriers whatsoever...The more pure the person, the more pain they feel.Hold on, because there's more to come. How do I experience the moment fully and not just hope for something more? How does my hope for the future translate to joy today in the midst of sorrow and brokenness? Cause I want life but sometimes I

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-82687834037971741882009-02-06T11:43:00.001-08:002009-02-17T00:27:39.843-08:00

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-7923555348959634002009-01-22T16:23:00.000-08:002009-02-17T00:28:16.715-08:00

I've recently begun to discover an odd disparity between intimacy and perceived intimacy.(and when you think of intimacy, don't think about sex first, people.)Obviously, there can be a great divide between the two. Someone could be perceiving great intimacy but really not be truly experiencing it, like a girl who thinks that her boyfriend loves her when all he cares about is...BUT, the oddness in

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-76034599170075563022009-01-17T22:14:00.000-08:002009-02-17T00:30:46.340-08:00

*disclaimer: I am so sorry about this blog post. I just couldn't stop writing, and I hope that if you actually read it that at least part of it makes sense. It was just really nice to work out thoughts as I was thinking of them.*I remember when I was ten, I wrote my first ever journal entry. Here's the first line:"My personal life is hard on me now."I've long since lost that journal, which mostly

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-32409261996495828862009-01-13T00:19:00.000-08:002009-06-23T14:22:10.198-07:00

"I want to know you."These words were once scary to me. And they still kind of send shivers up my spine as I think about the deep implications of this phrase. In my mind, there's such a subtle, yet profound difference betweenI want to know about you.I want to get to know you.I want to know you better.andI want to know you.How is it different? I don't think anyone had seriously said these exact

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-39988643552824039872008-12-21T19:25:00.000-08:002008-12-21T20:24:29.117-08:00

I just finished reading Haruki Murakami's Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, and aside from a slight satisfaction at having completed an intensely surreal and psychologically compelling novel...that's all. The rest of how I feel about it seems to be bottlenecked up somewhere inside me.Recently, many of the feelings I've had have been brought out, forced to manifest themselves in

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-88545588772617662432008-12-14T23:10:00.000-08:002008-12-15T00:01:22.247-08:00

Time for "break." Time to process what's happened in the whirlwind of Autumn quarter.***I think the first few entries are going to be a little stream-of-consciousness, and then begin to get more organized...***I came back from South America with a different, amorphous understanding of myself. Yet somehow, this "shape" of understanding was shifting around in reference to the center of who I was

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-50064443004008366782008-06-03T21:52:00.000-07:002008-06-03T22:15:34.721-07:00

Just a teeny bit. It's finals week, so what would we be without it? Better people? Nah.Well, at the risk of turning this into a blog with just random pictures I find on the internet, here's another one that may accurately describe some of you:Just as well, I need to acknowledge some of the graduating seniors with a cool picture:This is what happens when one doesn't want to think. He/she relies on

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-24941896340649048762008-05-29T23:54:00.000-07:002008-05-30T00:00:49.227-07:00

Short post, because I must sleep.Today was a crazy day......kind of like this:I'm happy today is done, but I have much work ahead. Let's rock it.

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-73746370261628721032008-05-24T22:42:00.000-07:002009-11-17T14:49:12.827-08:00

Motivation. Check out this poem/psalm thing I wrote a long time ago...What is light?Light is all around.We need it, but it doesn't need us.Light only needs an energy source.It travels. That's all it does.Unthinking, straight, it goes on and finally fades.Always streaming from a source,If that source is cut off,The light will no longer come.No longer reflect.No longer shine.We cannot see it

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-18629319866526366662008-05-21T14:28:00.001-07:002008-05-21T14:49:31.678-07:00

Wow. I'm dead.I found myself in my apartment this afternoon momentarily flailing my fists in frustration. I've never done that before...if there were ever a breakdown to happen in my life, as lame as it sounds this might actually be the closest point. Haven't had one yet.I'm done. I don't want to do anything anymore. What brought me to this point was that as optimistic as I can possibly be,

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-59529030891012410162008-05-20T14:32:00.000-07:002008-05-20T15:00:03.058-07:00

Alright...nobody commented, but that's okay.So anyway, I was thinking that first of all, I don't mind silence. I enjoy silence on my own, in thinking or walking, or sitting and doing nothing.When it comes to silence with others, there are many reasons that we (as Americans in general) can't handle it. But generally it's safe to say that it's expected that conversations between people should have

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-68376600592890725982008-05-14T22:53:00.000-07:002008-05-14T22:57:19.056-07:00

What does silence mean to you?Not just alone, but with others.That may be really broad, but think about it. And maybe tell me how you view silence especially when it comes to hanging out with a group of friends, or a group of people you don't know too well. Maybe I'll share my own thoughts soon. This is an experiment.

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-6556259799977680452008-05-11T22:02:00.001-07:002008-05-11T22:52:22.803-07:00

I found out today that I like questions just a little too much.Socratic method? Yes, please.Getting to know people through questions? Yes...Asking life's questions without ever really trying get an answer (cause most of the time I won't get one)? Mhmm...Asking God things and then answering the questions myself? Oh, sure.Aye. But what's funny is that I think that I have a lot more answers then I

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-77784380520132482152008-05-07T00:00:00.000-07:002008-05-07T13:10:41.542-07:00

Everything has its place.Whether its place is constant motion or hiding, or completely stationary. Or something else.Sometimes I freak out. In my mind. What am I supposed to be? Where is my place? I think that I must be moving and taking shelter at the same time. I must stop to take rest and find solace in Him. But I can't sit for long. I just can't. I either get antsy or feel guilty because I

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-58196565257010810232008-05-06T08:58:00.000-07:002008-05-06T10:24:45.101-07:00

Okay. Yesterday was epic. And it's only going to get better from here.I went to the first rehearsal for More Music @ the Moore. 4pm-8pm. This was nothing like pulling teeth. It's one of those experiences you know you won't have often in your life. There's really so many reasons you should go and also reasons I've been inspired.This show...Involves musical talent beyond your imagination.Involves

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-33855908776824275492008-04-30T10:37:00.000-07:002009-09-22T21:38:49.405-07:00

Try to put it into perspectiveKeep in mind thatIf I were in your shoesWe both knowDo you thinkCan we tryHow do we move forward withI think what you're trying to say isDid you meanI feel likeI respect you, butTell me your experienceLet's go at it from a different angleWhen this happensOur options areLet's leave that for a bit andBear with me hereI think you're missing the pointIn my opinionI know

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-88127135129517194522008-04-27T20:00:00.000-07:002009-09-22T21:39:06.014-07:00

There is a man.He was once a beautiful child, one that ran in fields and smiled with his mouth open in delight. Friends and family alike would remark that when he smiled, his round cheeks would glow with enough joy to cause at least a slight smirk on any viewer, no matter how cross. His uncle once said, "Why, he could even work a smile out of a cow," and his parents constantly received offers for

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-88826387121822490052008-04-20T22:01:00.000-07:002008-04-20T23:59:45.220-07:00

You know how if you squeeze your eyes tight and look at the back of your eyelids, rather than just black, you see tons of little colorful dots among the black? I used to think those were what made up the universe. They were these magical particles that you could potentially put together in certain combinations to make my eyelids, my eyes, or a LEGO set. Of course, I didn't know how to harness

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-55150877662865500212008-04-19T14:55:00.000-07:002008-05-13T16:45:44.456-07:00

Oh, this is not a good thing. Not at all. This isn't Ghandi's civil disobedience or a form of change through nonviolence. This is what I have trudged through to find out who I am.If I face something head on, there's not much that can really get in my way. I respond to problems easily and usually (hopefully) treat them with some sort of maturity, if I know what it is I'm dealing with, and I have

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-27080796348026148652008-04-15T09:40:00.000-07:002008-04-15T10:20:36.556-07:00

What do you want from me? What do I want from you? Should I tell you, or do my actions speak for themselves? How is our need influenced by our nature?I've always wanted to rid myself of superficiality. I honestly can't think of a time when I felt good about pleasantries that were just used between two acquaintances to pass the time until one person's body language showed that both of them could

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-6447887751154188182008-04-10T21:11:00.000-07:002008-04-10T21:50:47.895-07:00

*Do you ever have those moments when you feel as if your heart is going to explode? In that good way? It kind of builds in the same way that happens when you're really nervous about something, or anxious, and maybe even is kind of unexpected when it turns to a surge of pure joy. Every once in a while this happens to me. Not frequently. When it happens, it could be from joy at finally really

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-17505900523066395982008-04-07T08:58:00.000-07:002008-04-12T22:09:20.247-07:00

If there are physical things that can transcend this world to somewhere unknown, rainbows would be one of those things.However, thinking about it more, it might be the other way around.Yesterday Carissa and I were on our way to play at Timberlake, and it was shaping up to be a nice evening. It had been a nice, bright day, with showers occasionally pouring for a few minutes and then moving on.

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-50764272796578725212008-03-22T00:20:00.000-07:002009-09-22T21:39:37.529-07:00

"Thump, thump, thump," aches my heart.But I still hardly hear it.And "Think, think, think," says my brain.The heart can hardly feel it.Severed connections I can't repair on my own...Even within me I have this problem of separation. It's not just between Jesus and me, or me and people. I am estranged from myself. Does that make a difference? Does knowing that give me a chance at healing? Or is it

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-67489051389824284372008-03-15T00:13:00.000-07:002008-03-15T00:27:21.723-07:00

Deliberation. That's where I am. Yes, It's a place, not quite just a state of mind...because it passes over into the real world and affects my decisions and relationships and interactions.de·lib·er·a·tionPronunciation[di-lib-uh-rey-shuhn]–noun1. careful consideration before decision.2. formal consultation or discussion.3. deliberate quality; leisureliness of movement or action; slowness.I think 1

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-3904252104712597052008-03-06T18:00:00.000-08:002008-03-06T18:29:14.740-08:00

My life is waiting. I'm not waiting, I'm stuck. My life is waiting.I'm in a place where all I can do is cry out for help like David and hope that God will come back. Will He? Do I deserve anything like this? Nope. I'm dead.I think terrible, terrible dreams are good things. Only if they haven't come true. But they can be great things. I had one a couple days ago and I woke up in confusion and

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1336207852985067392.post-44215300619367424722008-03-06T16:21:00.001-08:002008-03-06T19:42:40.567-08:00

FIRST! alright...http://youtube.com/watch?v=ciG-Xs7mBwU

Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15844412309406348445noreply@blogger.com0