whiteness

Climbed Mount Mansfield in Vermont yesterday with my Dad and his friend. We left Sunday afternoon to drive up, than spent the night in a hotel. We were going to just sleep in the car and pitch a tent, but my dad's friend didn't like that idea too much, so he bought a room and paid for it. haha.

Vermont is beautiful. I wish I could live in those timeless rolling mountains.

We started Mansfield at 8 o'clock AM and ended at 1:00. So that's not so bad for 10 miles and three peaks. The top of the mountain was so windy, but the sun was bright. The air was cool and crisp. Energy bars taste so good on mountain-tops, and so does south-african passion-fruit juice.

On the way back down my dad and I ran, letting momentum carry us. It was wicked fun: leaping and dodging, running and sliding, gliding off boulders. Smooth, without letting the impact of your movement jolt your body. Graceful. Kinda parkour-style. My dad goes so fast. He's like a mix between a deer and a mountain goat. xD [I luv my dad] I didn't get out-of-breathe on the way down 'cause I was so adrenaline-rushed. It was wonderful. Yesterday was a great day.

Friday is my birthday. I'll be seventeen. Boo-yay. xD The next two days after my birthday I work. *stress* School isn't going so well, either. Nothing new, though.

Old fears getting confirmed.

I've been busy, which is good. Keeps my mind and thoughts active for most of the day. Not so intro-destructive. Bleh.

This time of year is beautiful. The air is gradually getting colder. Some days, when you breathe, you can feel the air entering your lunges. And when you breathe out, you can see it hanging like smoke in the air. Makes me feel so alive. I love the feel of the cold on your skin. Reminds me, I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive....

The trees are turning such bright colors. God is so amazing, bringing beauty to death like He did with the trees. I also like the bare trees: the branches that cut such jagged lines across the sky-line. Cracked broken fingers, groping for the heavens. And the snow, laying like a soft moist blanket on the earth. Makes the woods so quiet when you walk through them. Like a dream-land.

Fall and winter are my inspiration months. They make me feel the most.
Beauty.

God bless you all.

Fear Is

Fear is: an expressionless face. Gray eyes that know without looking. A cold dampness smothing the back of your mind. A kid in the corner. Gray. Cold. Clammy skin. A motionless pond in an empty place.The Avoident truth. A dreadfull knowingness. Shifting shadows. Stiffled breathe. I don't understand most things. I'm realizing that i don't need to understand most things. That I never will understand. That no one does. No one ever will. All I need to do is cling to God and stick to what I knew to be true. (Don't question in the dark what you knew in the light.) But in the waves and in the wind sometimes I wonder if I am still clutching to the same thing that I was before, if I have lost my grip. Or if it is only the numbness in my fingers that makes me question what it is that I hold onto, because I am past the stage of feeling. And I know that the problem is only with me, since everyone else goes around with the sun warming their steps. But sometimes I wonder if there isn't some overlooked truth in the state of dissillusionment. Ah, and I can't forget. I can't stop questioning. And all the unanswered questions swirl around in a mocking stream of doubts.