Brandon's Writings

More Than Anything In The World

[original posting date- Saturday, January 19th, 2008]

The chilling month of December had taken it’s toll on Simon. As he lay there, the icy wind wrapping around his numb fingertips, his mind began to wander off into distant dreams of her smile, or her laugh, or the way she held his hand ever so tightly during the scary movies even though she was never scared. A smile graced his lips and they moved ever so slightly…
~
The redundant beeping was keeping everyone awake. Even Simon. It seemed so distant, so far away, but it held his interest; that was the important thing. He had to get through this room, into the next, and into the next; he knew the routine. This sure is a long maze, thought he. Quietly he heard Elizabeth weeping. Where is she, he thought. I must find my Elizabeth!
~
Simon wasn’t sure what happened. He only remembered waking inside this impossible maze. A labyrinth, of sorts. And that recurring beeping was driving him insane. Or was it actually pressing him on? No. Elizabeth was his only motivation. She was keeping him alive. But why was she crying? He had to find her, dry her tears. “I’m alive!” he shouted. “Elizabeth, don’t cry! I’m alive… And I’m coming for you!”
~
Elizabeth sat quietly in the white room with little comfort from the plain and faded photographs that hung from the wall. Tears? Yes they came. She couldn’t stop them and had no desire to. He may have been a simple boy, but he loved her. And she loved him as well. But what did he expect her to do? Just throw away her life for his dreams? It had seemed so awful a mere four hours ago, but now it sounded like the perfect escape. “I put you here, darling. I’m so sorry… So sorry… sorry…” she mumbled. Her hand was clenching his; she was still debating whether she wanted the beeping to carry him away or bring him back safe. She laid her head on his chest, her long and chestnut covering her face. She sobbed quietly as his chest slowly rose and fell.
~
Simon was getting closer; he knew he just had to be. Elizabeth’s crying was getting louder, so he quickened his pace. This door, then that door. Which way? They all lead to different directions! But no matter the hall or exit he chose, her sobs were penetrating the walls and reverberating around in his mind. And that horrible, pounding beeping. He half-wished for it to stop. His legs grew tired, and he was fatigued. “I’ll only be a few more minutes, Elizabeth,” he said.
~
Elizabeth picked her head up off of Simon’s chest. She loved him. She really did. She would follow him anywhere. At least, she would if he returned. He always told Elizabeth that, even if he was going away for only five minutes. “I’ll return, my darling. Wait for me?” A silent tear fell to Simon’s face. Elizabeth smiled at the thought of reuniting with him. He had loved her through everything. He stood by her when she was weakest; he was her strong tower. She always went to him. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him; not again. Elizabeth dried her eyes and kissed his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.
~
“I love you.”
“What?” Simon said aloud. He knew he hadn’t imagined that. Elizabeth just said “I love you.” He was sure of it! But he couldn’t hear her crying any longer. That beeping, that horrible beeping, syncing with his heart. It was slowing him down; he couldn’t move. “God, no… I must see Elizabeth… I love her… She needs… I need her!” There were flashes of white all around him. Simon couldn’t feel any part of his body. He screamed in agony. He wondered if Elizabeth heard his screams. The noise was unbearable!
~
She quietly sat looking first at Simon, then at the LCD, and then back at Simon. The peaks on the screen got smaller, and smaller, and she rose and ran over to him. There was now one solid tone of agony ringing in her ears. “NO!” she screamed. “NO! Please come back to me, Simon! Please!”
~
Everything grew very still, and a peace filled the room. There was no movement, and joy was abundant (though Elizabeth knew she should not be feeling it at this time).
Through the peacefulness, she heard a faint, “Elizabeth…”
Then again, and again. She put her ear right above Simon’s ear, and heard it again. He was whispering her name, and something inaudible following. “Elizabeth… I’ve found…” “I want to tell……” “You need to know….” Simon was having trouble saying the right thing, and Elizabeth smiled. “It’s all right, baby,” she said. “What do you need to tell me?” “I need you to know…” Simon said. After a pause, and with caution, he whispered softly, “…that I love you.”
“I love you more than anything in the world.”

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Go Big or Go Home?

[original posting date- Monday, September 8th, 2008]

“As the saying goes, ‘Go big or go home’
But it’ll sometimes leave you marred
And often the best moments in life
Are when you’re standing right where you are.”

As I write these words, Anberlin is playing softly in my speakers, and the recurring theme of “going big/going home” is etched in my mind. If one is not doing “great” things where one might be, it is perceived as failure. But I would venture to say that it’s not always winning or losing in all situations. Sometimes there are gray areas in our lives as humans. We’re sometimes stagnate; we don’t always show positive progression. I have discovered that in these times of stationary motion (whether involuntary or voluntary) the greatest revelations of God can occur. I see God in small/insignificant situations, and in people. That’s important. Why is it that if I believe all mankind is made in God’s image, I tend to overlook God’s beauty in mankind? In the homeless man down the street; in the drama queen who needs genuine attention; in the rambunctious youth looking for adventure; in the mellow hippie who seems to have it all figured out; in the quiet ones yearning for genuine affection. I’m starting to see God in everyone. (some more than others, lol. i’m working on it though…)
So, in short, different situations breed different outcomes. If “great” things aren’t happening, if motion isn’t happening, it’s not always a bad thing. It’s at times when I’m not worried about “going big, or not at all” I’ve finally slowed down enough to see the beauty and craftsmanship of a great God who loves us and cares for us unconditionally. Haha, “blessings in disguise” is an overused cliche, but it’s true. When I’ve slowed down enough to see the signature of God in everyone, my truest friends (and dearest friends) casually wander into my life.
It’s not about “going big or going home.” It’s about living your life, right where you are.

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Make Believe, Not War.

[original posting date- Monday, September 22nd, 2008]

Hmmm… What have I to do with words? I believe words, in their truest essence, are gifts from The Divine. I would also venture to say that words are embedded in us even before we realize that they’re there. They belong to us, as long as they remain in the confines of our small and finite minds. However, one cannot live life keeping all of their marvelous words to oneself. A basic human need of conversation, verbal discourse with another, is ingrained to us. But what we do with these words can have phenomenal impacts on others. And depending on who one may be, could drastically alter the nation (but let’s not go there).

I read a quote once. Simplistic in nature (on the surface), but the words hold an important meaning. The band Anchor & Braille (www.myspace.com/ancorandbraille) have a shirt that reads: “Make Believe, Not War.” At first glance, it seems like just another “… not war” type slogan. But I think, being the capable human that I am, it is possible to pick this apart. So, words. There are only four words here. However, quality is greater than quantity. Well, what is “make believe”? Is it something that we tell children to do to encourage their imaginations? Or maybe just to get them out of our hair…? And with that, what is “war”? Is it something adults do to fight an unjust evil? Or maybe just something to show how we can get someone out of our hair…? Hmmm…

Make Believe. I remember those days, days before it was discouraged; days before creativity was stifled; days when one could be anything one’s mind could fathom. Somewhere along the way, we were taught that “make believe” was only in our minds, and therefore did not really exist. With that in mind, it would mean that everything unseen is not “real.” But, one cannot see their own brain. Does this mean the very brain that can conceive “make believe” (something unseen and not real) is also nonexistent, because it cannot be seen? Certainly not. Maybe “make believe” is as believable as it implies: it merely requires believing. Nothing can be achieved unless first seen in the mind, making “make believe” not seem child-like any longer. Maybe adults give it another name like “strategy”?

If at first you don’t succeed, try again, right? If this is true, does one’s failure entitle one to repeat failure using the same methods? Let us hope not. If something is repeatedly broken, sooner or later a new method of repair will have to be used. Why not sooner?

Maybe we should try to make believe, instead of making war, and merely see what happens. I am doubtful that more damage would occur.

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This is for You and Me

[original posting date- Sunday, November 4th, 2007]

i’m usually at a loss for words around her
and she thinks that it’s sweet
i gave her a hug
she smiled
i kissed her cheek
she blushed
i told her she was beautiful
she grinned
i told her she was my everything
she gasped
i took her hand
she never let go
i was depressed
and she stood by my side
i was cold
so she held on to me tightly
i was thirsty
so we shared a cup of coffee
i took her home
we stood on her porch
it felt like years
but then she broke the silence
“i guess i’ll go in now,” said she
her hand touched the door
but i touched her hand
i kissed her lightly
she smiled and turned away
i tried to say “i love you”
but the words just never came
my sadness prevails
i can bear it no longer
i must tell her
but she will not accept me
she will not love me back
what if i am wrong about her
what if i am wrong
and if i am wrong then i am wrong!
i run back up the steps onto the porch
frantically i beat on the door
is it too late?
is she already gone to sleep?
the light comes on…
maybe all is not lost
maybe i can tell her
she quietly opens the door
and whispers, “yes?”
i stutter, my tongue is tied
i cannot speak the words
that come so fluently in my head
she smiles
she quietly walks out to meet me
still stuttering, i am ashmed
why is she smiling?
does she find this humorous?
this is torture…
ok… i can tell her
it’s easy… i love you… i love you
but i never get the chance
she reaches in her pocket
and unfolds a piece of paper
it’s a diary entry
i take it and read
i am amazed
she smiles
i can’t find the words to say what i feel
she just stands there smiling
i read the diary entry again
a tear begins to fall down my cheek
“i never knew anyone could love me that much,” said i
“i never knew anyone could love me,” said she
a tear runs down her face
i embraced her with all my heart
she never let go