let the good stuff in

I had my hands in the river,
My feet back up on the banks
Looked up to the Lord above and said, “hey, Man, thanks.”

I feel so good I’ve got to scream.


She said, “Baby, I know exactly what you mean.”



in the spring, I shed my skin

And it blows away with the changing winds.

Here I am,

A rabbit-hearted girl. Frozen in headlights.

It’s not enough.

I must become a lion-hearted girl. Ready for a fight.



i look up to keep myself sane, baby

At no point have I been promised to be spared the discomforts of the world. I have only been told that I will not be burdened with more weight than I can bear, and that I will be provided with strength necessary to find a way out. In the darkest times, when I wonder how exactly I will continue to cope, I remember that I will not be tested beyond my power.

How do we trust in faith during difficult times? Of course, this is no easy feat. Our natural instincts are to avoid struggle, rather than view our challenges as gifts that broaden our perspectives and leave us better rounded individuals. Every peak and valley on our paths are meant to develop our faith and mature our spirits. You’re not supposed to understand it or know why. That’s what faith is – faith is not knowing, but trusting anyway.

I want to trust in my heart and never rely on what I think I know about the future. Our life plans are bigger and more beautiful than our dreams.


i just ride

I hear the birds on the summer breeze, I drive fast,
I am alone in the night.
Been tryin’ hard not to get in trouble, but I,
I’ve got a war in my mind.
I just ride.


I’m tired of feeling like I’m fucking crazy.
I’m tired of driving ’til I see stars in my eyes.
I look up to keep myself sane, baby.
Too much I strive, I just ride.

four winds

Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe…
There’s people always dying, trying to keep them alive.
There’s bodies decomposing in containers tonight in an abandoned building where
A squatter’s made a mural of a Mexican girl
With fifteen cans of spray paint and a chemical swirl.
She’s standing in the ashes at the end of the world
Four winds blowing through her hair.

But when great Satan’s gone… the Whore of Babylon…
She just can’t sustain the pressure where it’s placed
She caves.

And it’s the sum of man slouching towards Bethlehem,
Her heart just can’t

all of that empty


It breaks.
It breaks. It breaks.