lost service

Thoughts,news, updates, poems, bible verses, really just whatever.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Impaired contact with reality


Drained:
When one is emotionally, mentally, and physically worn out
Common equations are not correctly adding up
Sturdy surfaces are suffering from earth quakes
Back up plans failed
Pressure squeezes your heart
Your understudy did not show up

You thought you understood
you had a grasp
but happening, to you?
Un-logical
Rediculous, bogus, garbage really.

Get over it, just stop feeling!
It was easier to tell your friend that
but one's own advice is rarely helpful
towards one's self.

From an un-selfish, non-personal perspective
there is no problem.
Stop being dramatic
You could
but you want it to be seen your way
Others need to understand YOU now.
It is their turn
Is that too much to ask?

Monday, October 02, 2006

more english works

the nameless
by Chelsey Rubin 05/03/06

a car travels the grimy dirt road
in a town of blindness
the car stops by a skeleton tree
a door is opened.
an innocent bundle is thrown towards the edge of the road
the door is slammed shut.
the car leaves a nameless reality
the hard surface can not offer comfort to this dependent victim
the sky offers tears but only frightens the discarded one
a dying tree shivers while watching this familiar scene
some young boys pass by the “garbage”
the feeling in their brains damaged by sniffing glue
allows no thought
no sympathy lays eyes on the beginning life
this redundant pile is what they too are.
darkness seals the town in a black envelope
the hours of death are set in motion
irritated shopkeepers grab guns and attack
the nameless ones,
abandoned ones.
the old tree shakes as soft cries escape the rag mound beneath him
gun shots stab the gloomy night
a few more nameless ones are gone
forever.
cops continuously close their eyes during these
midnight murders.
morning is smothered by clouds
preventing the sun from shining light on the nameless
crying invades the morning harsher than the dark guns
thirst.
hunger.
frigid air gnaws.
not wanted like the many others abandoned.
the trees last wrinkled leaf falls from frail grasp
the tree will not see any more
the crying grows softer
the Nameless comes closer to the end of suffering.

Another:

I am…
By Chelsey Rubin

searching
for answers that were
not found in the light
finding
broken people reflecting
myself and life
crying
tired tears that could
not explain themselves
hoping
with an empty optimism
living
in a life that will
continue to cause
falling
from childhood innocence
joys and protected ears
seeing
more than your blind
eyes in denial
I am lost
weak
hurt
forgotten
invisible
hated
left
done

Digging through my english projects.

Found this vignette that I wrote last year:

Why Not?
Chelsey Rubin
11/15/05

It’s happening. I didn’t even realize it. Not until that disturbing thought crept into my mind without my consent. For a moment I questioned- Why not? Why do I have to work so hard to do the things I once never doubted? The things I can’t conceive as to why people would even do. It’s everywhere. I’m surrounded by it. Do I think it is morally right? No. Everyone else is doing it and having so much fun. I have to constantly struggle; strive to continue on my personal route when the whole world seams to be ramming into me as they run in the opposite direction. For a moment the desperate thought came into my mind- Why not? Why? If I am doing the right thing, why do I have to struggle the most? Should not my life be smoother? What about the ridiculous media that I roll my eyes at. Why did I for a moment find a slight appeal? Why are the bad things occasionally appearing more satisfying? Just make it stop. All of it goes away when I’m at home, at church, surrounded by people who are like me. People who do the things I now struggle with. It did not use to be a question at all. When I was younger there was no confusion, no struggle. I did not ask the question- Why not?

Mrs. Zippy... Sissimippi.... M-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i

Hey everyone!
I just wanted to post my letter about Mississippi on here, and for those who did not know, I was there on a mission trip with my youth group from Calvary Chapel, Uncasville. In Mississippi, we stayed a Diamondhead Church and worked with Willing Hearts Helping Hands, through God's awesome power. Thanks to all who prayed/supported me and others who went on this trip.

God used us for his glory in the lives of devastated people in Mississippi and used his visible power to effect us individually. Throughout the week our youth team was sent out to work along with a team from New Haven, Arizona, and New Jersey. Our team was given different tasks/jobs. Some things our group accomplished during the week was: cleaning up messed up yards, priming, painting, drywall, spackling, sanding, installing insulation, and picking up a LOT of garbage on the sides of roads. God kept our group from major injuries, we walked away from any given days work with only multiple bug bites and serious body odor to complain of.

We had many opportunities to just talk to the people living their. People would see us with our red biohazard bags walking down the road and would come to the road with gatorades, thanks, conversation, or an offer of air conditioned room to rest in. Seeing the hope/joy in people who have suffered so much really affected our groups view on materialism, and attitude. We all agreed after a day of the ab burning task of picking up garbage on the side of the road with the sun showing no mercy, in high temp. and humidity, that we would not complain when asked to take out a bag of garbage at home.

Towards the end of the trip, everyone was exhausted and aching for God. Most of the group would agree with my conclusion that working in a house was the least detested job because of its cooler temperature, and visible progress that we could proudly stamp in history with a picture, but I personally believe that picking up garbage was a crucial challenge from God, a serious reality notice, and had a major impact on our hearts. We found your basic garbage such as beer bottles, full baby diapers, and plastic bags. But most of all, we found once precious items, memories. We found old family photos that may have once adorned a refrigerator, parts of a mobile that formerly could have coaxed a baby to sleep, a collection of marbles and bouncy balls previously prized by a child, lonely stuffed animals slumped over in the dirt, credit cards, tools, small race cars, coin purses, and so much more. While picking up the remains of “hurricane safe” houses and houses that once held birthday parties, April fools day pranks, Christmas mornings, and family reunions, you really felt a whirl wind of emotions. I felt pain, anger, sympathy, passion, and opportunity. This could happen again, so why bother rebuilding houses that may be demolished again? Because we are showing people God’s love through our actions. We are touching people’s lives. This hurricane was devastating, but God made it into opportunity.

There is still so much to do there, and many people have forgotten this, or believe that after a year everything is back to normal, but thankfully God has not and will not abandon these incredible people.