via terrysdiary.com
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010, 12:34 am
via chrishwang.tumblr.com"Making it Rain with Emotions" - my friend Alex
I feel. Wretched.
I feel. Weak.
I feel. Emo.
I feel like my heart sometimes likes to bite off more than it can chew, thinks it can handle more than can, wishes for more than my head knows is right. I feel like my heart likes worry itself, rather than trust in God’s glorious plan for me.
God I love you. God I feel far from you again. God I don’t know what to do. But I know You will take care of it.
God whisper to me. God whisper to my heart. Help my heart to listen.
God would head and heart connect. Would rationale and passion coincide. Would worlds that seem so far and separate be one. Where the things that I love and desire and care so deeply about be at ease by the thought process and the truth that you proclaim to both my head and my heart. Would my heart not trust so deeply in emotions and reactions and feelings, fleeting fleeting feelings, but on Your Word, in Your truth, in words that last forever. God I don’t know why I suddenly grow worried of things that I’m not even stressed out about.
It’s so peculiar.
There are so many things I love and there are so many things I want to pursue and learn more about. I want to style more. I want to work on it and get better at it. Grow that area and that skill that I truly think You’ve blessed me with Lord. I want to write more and write with passion and fervor and honesty. I want to write in a way that moves people and speaks to people. I want to write to provoke. Provoke thought or action or emotion, sadness, happiness, empathy, anger, all of the above and more.
Your Hands in Mine – Explosions in the Sky. So good. Music is so so good.
God help me to write this feature with excellence. Help me to do my best and try and work at it even when it’s not right the first time.
What else.
I want to learn photography. Take sick pictures. I want to write, take pictures, and style.
Lord help my heart. Help my heart to trust in Your timing and Your perfectly crafted plan. God remind me of Your faithfulness. Remind me of how I came to where I am now. Remind me of how I moved here, never ever wanting to move here. Hating the idea and thought of it all. Staten Island, ferry, Wendy and her 50 million cats, x infinity antiques and junk...
Matthew 6:25-34
For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?
Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more that they?
And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?
And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin
Yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these.
But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith! Do not worry then saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘ What will we wear for clothing?’
For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things
But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
So do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
HAPPY EASTER!!!
That's My King! from Albert Martin on Vimeo.
In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
'Till on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Brought with the precious blood of Christ
No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'Till He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Throwback Tracks
My most played tracks in high school:
Disclaimer: Some of the videos are kinda whack.
Solange Knowles: Feelin You
Yellowcard: Something of Value
Kelly Rowland and Nelly: Dilemma
Ashanti: Foolish
Ashanti: Baby
HOVA and Beyonce: Bonnie and Clyde
Beyonce: Naughty Girl
Aaliyah: Try Again
Aaliyah: Are You That Somebody
Disclaimer: Some of the videos are kinda whack.
Solange Knowles: Feelin You
Yellowcard: Something of Value
Kelly Rowland and Nelly: Dilemma
Ashanti: Foolish
Ashanti: Baby
HOVA and Beyonce: Bonnie and Clyde
Beyonce: Naughty Girl
Aaliyah: Try Again
Aaliyah: Are You That Somebody
The Heart
7 Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD
And whose trust is the LORD.
8 For he will be like a tree planted by the water,
That extends its roots by a stream
And will not fear when the heat comes;
But its leaves will be green,
And it will not be anxious in a year of drought
Nor cease to yield fruit.
9 The heart is more deceitful than all else
And is desperately sick;
Who can understand it?
10 I, the LORD, search the heart,
I test the mind,
Even to give to each man according to his ways,
According to the results of his deeds.
11 As a partridge that hatches eggs which it has not laid,
So is he who makes a fortune, but unjustly;
In the midst of his days it will forsake him,
And in the end he will be a fool.”
12 A glorious throne on high from the beginning
Is the place of our sanctuary.
13 O LORD, the hope of Israel,
All who forsake You will be put to shame.
Those who turn away on earth will be written down,
Because they have forsaken the fountain of living water,
even the LORD.
14 Heal me, O LORD, and I will be healed;
Save me and I will be saved,
For You are my praise.
And whose trust is the LORD.
8 For he will be like a tree planted by the water,
That extends its roots by a stream
And will not fear when the heat comes;
But its leaves will be green,
And it will not be anxious in a year of drought
Nor cease to yield fruit.
9 The heart is more deceitful than all else
And is desperately sick;
Who can understand it?
10 I, the LORD, search the heart,
I test the mind,
Even to give to each man according to his ways,
According to the results of his deeds.
11 As a partridge that hatches eggs which it has not laid,
So is he who makes a fortune, but unjustly;
In the midst of his days it will forsake him,
And in the end he will be a fool.”
12 A glorious throne on high from the beginning
Is the place of our sanctuary.
13 O LORD, the hope of Israel,
All who forsake You will be put to shame.
Those who turn away on earth will be written down,
Because they have forsaken the fountain of living water,
even the LORD.
14 Heal me, O LORD, and I will be healed;
Save me and I will be saved,
For You are my praise.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
i get a text message from my dad saying:
"now i see. you did think about italy for a while.
on second page of google image there you are. type in sarah kim.
and you'll see. i saw it last night."
i was confused. so whatever. i did what he said.
there i was. 4th row down.
my friend chris, formerly from 3sixteen, interviewed me for his blog.
but ive seen it before. i mean i wrote out all the questions he asked me.
but then i read them over. and i Freaked out.
CRAZY.
and anyway. whats my dad doing google searching me?
so for the 2 people (MAYYBE 2, im being a little generous,
its probably only like, 1 person, who happens to be me, right after i post it HA) that read this.
im moving to ITALY in november.
or trying to at least. yea. we'll see.
so into this song right now.
on second page of google image there you are. type in sarah kim.
and you'll see. i saw it last night."
i was confused. so whatever. i did what he said.
there i was. 4th row down.
my friend chris, formerly from 3sixteen, interviewed me for his blog.
but ive seen it before. i mean i wrote out all the questions he asked me.
but then i read them over. and i Freaked out.
CRAZY.
and anyway. whats my dad doing google searching me?
so for the 2 people (MAYYBE 2, im being a little generous,
its probably only like, 1 person, who happens to be me, right after i post it HA) that read this.
im moving to ITALY in november.
or trying to at least. yea. we'll see.
so into this song right now.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
A Thank-You Note to Men
By Mary-Louise Parker
To you, whom it may concern:
Manly creature, who smells good even when you don't, you wake up too slowly, with fuzzy, vertical hair and a slightly lost look on your face as though you are seven or seventy-five; you can fix my front door, my sink, and open most jars; you, who lose a cuff link and have to settle for a safety pin, you have promised to slay unfortunate interlopers and dragons with your Phillips head or Montblanc; to you, because you will notice a woman with a healthy chunk of years or pounds on her and let out a wolf whistle under your breath and mean it; because you think either rug will be fine, really it will; you seem to walk down the street a little taller than me, a little more aware but with a purpose still; to you who codifies, conjugates, slams a puck, baits a hook, builds a decent cabinet or the perfect sandwich; you who gives a twenty to the kids selling Hershey's bars and waits at baggage claim for three hours in your flannel shirt; you, sir, you take my order, my pulse, my bullshit; you who soaps me in the shower, soaks with me in the tub; to you, boy grown-up, the gentleman, soldier, professor, or caveman, the fancy man with initials on your towels and salt on your chocolates, to you and to that guy at the concession stand; thank you for the tour of the vineyard, the fire station, the sound booth, thank you for the kaleidoscope, the Horsehead Nebula, the painting, the truth; to you who carries me across the parking lot, up the stairs, to the ER, to roll-away or rice mat; to you who shows up every so often only to confuse and torment, and you who stays in orbit, always, to my left and steady, you stood up for me, I won't forget that; to you, the one who can't figure it out and never will, and you who lost the remote, the dog, or your way altogether; to you, wizard, you sang in my ear and brought me back from the dead, you tell me things, make me shiver; to the ones who destroyed me, even if for a minute, and to the ones who grew me, consumed me, gave me my heart back times ten; to most everything that deserves to call itself a man: How I do love thee, with your skill to light fires that keep me warm, light me up.
from Kaity Velez, via Esquire.com
To you, whom it may concern:
Manly creature, who smells good even when you don't, you wake up too slowly, with fuzzy, vertical hair and a slightly lost look on your face as though you are seven or seventy-five; you can fix my front door, my sink, and open most jars; you, who lose a cuff link and have to settle for a safety pin, you have promised to slay unfortunate interlopers and dragons with your Phillips head or Montblanc; to you, because you will notice a woman with a healthy chunk of years or pounds on her and let out a wolf whistle under your breath and mean it; because you think either rug will be fine, really it will; you seem to walk down the street a little taller than me, a little more aware but with a purpose still; to you who codifies, conjugates, slams a puck, baits a hook, builds a decent cabinet or the perfect sandwich; you who gives a twenty to the kids selling Hershey's bars and waits at baggage claim for three hours in your flannel shirt; you, sir, you take my order, my pulse, my bullshit; you who soaps me in the shower, soaks with me in the tub; to you, boy grown-up, the gentleman, soldier, professor, or caveman, the fancy man with initials on your towels and salt on your chocolates, to you and to that guy at the concession stand; thank you for the tour of the vineyard, the fire station, the sound booth, thank you for the kaleidoscope, the Horsehead Nebula, the painting, the truth; to you who carries me across the parking lot, up the stairs, to the ER, to roll-away or rice mat; to you who shows up every so often only to confuse and torment, and you who stays in orbit, always, to my left and steady, you stood up for me, I won't forget that; to you, the one who can't figure it out and never will, and you who lost the remote, the dog, or your way altogether; to you, wizard, you sang in my ear and brought me back from the dead, you tell me things, make me shiver; to the ones who destroyed me, even if for a minute, and to the ones who grew me, consumed me, gave me my heart back times ten; to most everything that deserves to call itself a man: How I do love thee, with your skill to light fires that keep me warm, light me up.
from Kaity Velez, via Esquire.com
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The SSW
The Sarah Special Wrap from Broadway Cafe
(it's not official yet, but it should be)
Sprouts
Jalapenos
Cucumbers
Lettuce
Peppers
Avocado
Turkey
& Mustard
on a Whole wheat wrap
(it's not official yet, but it should be)
Sprouts
Jalapenos
Cucumbers
Lettuce
Peppers
Avocado
Turkey
& Mustard
on a Whole wheat wrap
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