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| GIMMIE ALL YOUR IMAGINATION! | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Page 1 / Page 2 / P AGE 3 / Page 4 / Page 5 / Page 6 / Page 7 / Page 8 / About Me | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| NEVER KNOCK ON DEATH'S DOOR... Ring the doorbell and run! (he hates that) |
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| Bad Childhood Nicknames... | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Email This Chica... | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| When I was a small child, I loved to talk. I talked about anything and everything--whether it was pertinent or not. My sister, in her youth, had been known for speaking her mind and had quite a gift with language [whether it was being used to make a man three times her size shrink away in fear or to melt the heart of someone she loved]. Soon, people began calling her "Mouth." And so my immediate family (predictably) attempted to nickname me "Mouth 2." | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Cry out and Shout! Oh inhabitant of Zion, for Great is the Holy One in the midst of thee!" Isaiah 12:6 |
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| HOWEVER, such folly was caught early with the realization that--although I was always talking--I wasn't always saying anything witty or really, of any importance at all. I might be talking to my feet or singing some nonsense song about grass. Being the youngest, I had to work the hardest to be heard (well..."listened to" anyway). By the time I came along, my parents had already nearly perfected their ability to "tune children out" at will. So, I tended to spread my statements out like buckshot: put out as much as possible...at least SOMETHING was bound to get someone's attention. It was during this period the alias "Evenrude" was born. It was a popular boat motor brand. They had skipped the more common names like "motor mouth" or "big mouth" (etc.) and gone straight for the jugular. I guess in one sense, it meant that I was a special enough case to carry my own brandname for loudness. |
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| "Life...It's not what's for dinner but, I hear it's pretty darn good with salt" | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "you are the salt of the earth..." Matthew 5:13 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| <---Denesha, LaJonese, and Me | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Killing Time? | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Kill roaches with a monkey wrench while playing Wagnerian arias on a kazoo Become a subgenius Develop an unnatural fear of staplers pick that nasty scab on your arm Write a screenplay about a diabetic Swedish girl who can't swim Listen to radio static Speak only in rhymes |
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| As I grabbed a CD out of the pile and began fiddling with the CD player's volume, i could feel my mother watching me out of the corner of her eye. "Another one of Lola's LOUD cds was going to have some playing time." It isn't that I play anything crude or vulgar, my musical tastes are more than appropriate. The problem was...whatever music I DID choose to play was probably going to get played fairly loud. Despite constant warnings of impending hearing loss, my generation lives for loudness. As for me, I just love immersing myself in the harmonious sounds. To me, music is another one of God's very special creations. It is also one of the ways he created for his praise--even the angels use it to worship Him in heaven. |
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| On the other hand... you have different fingers... |
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| Anyways...As I began to fumble around with the various buttons, she began to chatter on about one of her patients--who happens to sing Gospel. (a clever move considering the fact that I LOVE singing and listening gospel music.) The twist? Her patient is blind. She offered to get a couple tapes she had been given and with my curiosity aroused, I immediately accepted. As the woman's beautiful voice echoed praises to God through the upper level of our house, my heart crawled into my throat and my eyes began to fill with tears . It was as this point I began to think (WOW!...again?!)... |
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| Society tends to view those who are "lacking" mentally or physically (or otherwise) as "handicapped" or "lame." Shifting paradigms, a new perspective began began to sprout in my mind. This same woman I pitied had something I didn't... Her eyes would never be corrupted by the evils of this world...Instead, the first sight she would ever behold would be Christ---in all his beauty. And as for the deaf, their first sounds would not be the loud and angry din of a city, nor angry blaphemes against Christ and his truth...they will never be forced to listen helplessly to gunshots ringing into the night. No, their first perception of sound would be the choir of the Saints, the angels praising God and even the magnificent voice of God himself! | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Figure out how to say "Do not mock my baboon style" in 14 different languages Walk and Talk backwards Get a job be repetitive be repetitive Lie face down on the floor and moan Legally change your name to "Master of the Pan flute" Evolve into a higher species... |
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| Humbled, I began hold the "handicapped" in much higher esteem. It isn't necessarily an unfair thing that some are born without vision, hearing or other such abilities. It was simply a difference in experiences. I would never behold God in all his glory as my first sight...yet, I would be allowed to navigate my worldly existence with less assistence. A mere exchange of perspective... | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| HERE | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Page 1 / Page 2 / PAGE 3 / Page 4 / Page 5 / Page 6 / Page 7 / Page 8 / About Me | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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