So it's Good Friday.

Each year I approach this Holy Day with apprehension and self-confusion. If that makes any sense. I'm not a confirmed Catholic, but I was raised Irish Roman Catholic. My whole extended family is devout.
I may not take all of the creeds and dogmas to heart, or even agree, but I still take advantage of being apart of something greater.
There is one twist that is hard for me-experiencing religious ceremonies with the parish community, in other words, the Church is a family and we experience it all together.
I've always been more comfortable with enriching myself with Catholicism, on a personal basis.

(What I really have a hard time with is the stereotype and preconceptions many non-catholic and even catholics have of the Church. Streaming news worthy stories of sexual abuse does not define or even represent this faith. No catholic recognizes or would welcome those individuals as "real" priests or followers of our creed. Yes, every since Catholicism became a major influence in the world, the Church has made and done terrible things, to innocent people. I don't want to defend this one bit, because this very fact also challenges my own belief, but no Catholic or any layman sees those aspects of the Church's history as the actually religion. The Popes that commit vile and immoral acts are not Catholic! I think it's hard for an "outsider" to see the actually depth of the true Catholic Church because it is very detailed and somewhat secretive. But, please, in all good faith, don't judge or see the faith through others' immoral and condemned acts.)

When I was in inpatient treatment for my sever anxiety and depression, about four years ago, we would have a weekly "Spirituality" class. A Champlain would come to visit and encourage us to talk about our value and whatnot. There was a very blinded and ignorant girl who proclaimed that Roman Catholics ruined Christianity. This shot through my limbs. I was unable to speak or correct her. I ,somewhat, screamed that "Catholics founded Christendom and started the effects of other Christian sects" "so if anything, catholics created the first Christian institution of faith!"
I was so, not enraged, but shocked at her comment.
I guess I don't even know what I think about it, even four years later. But It has helped me to know how I don't want to be.

I was lucky to grow up in a family and neighborhood that encouraged communication between faiths. I think it is essential to immerse yourself to understand foreign faiths. I have continued my curiosity in Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam and Judaism, and the multiple similarities between all of them and their roots of their creation.

If anything, I have stayed a "somewhat" catholic for the mere joy of learning about "living history" and having the privilege to experience ceremonies and rituals that have widened my perspectives.

I think That's all I have to say, probably not, but when am I ever able to say all that I want to say? : ]

Gotta love those pugs.

I admit right here, right now, that Jessica Peyton gets goosebumps when she watches "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition". I might feel like a little sucker, but I can't deny it any longer. ha.

But lets get to my report:

I have been goggle-ing my daily brewing emotions. Once in awhile my crusted lips will literally crack a smile. I came across pictures and some darlin' whatnots that seemed to jolt me at another level. For awhile my posts will be composed of random stories: so enjoy!?

My family once owned a pug named Popeye. He had quite a life. We knew an older man in our neighborhood, that had a son who was a Catholic priest. His son was growing ill and so he decided to join him and move closer to his son. We gladly adopted his beloved pooch.

The old man had smothered Popeye with as much love, and treats, a dog could ask for. We had a lot to live up to. Popeye was fed two hotdogs and a hunk of cheese each and every day of his previous life. So, naturally, we needed to stop this pup's addiction and introduce him to 'real' dog food. This, of course, was my mother's mission, it must be that "motherly intuition". : ]

Popeye was the first dog for our family He immediately became our life, and of course, the king of the house. He lived on the wild side, like every pug does. One midday, Popeye was swept up by a van, and stolen out of sight. For weeks we searched and hunted for any trace of him. Weeks later a woman carrying Popeye came to our house. She told us she found this pug in a truckers bar miles away. She recognized him because of the abundance of posters we covered the City with.

I still wonder what Popeye must have been thinking throughout his whole excursion. Did he meet a clad of truckers who fell in love with him? Did he get a sip of beer as a daily treat? : ] I guess I'll never know, but it's nice to wonder.

He had an accident with our garage door, years later. The door started closing and hit his two shoulder blades. Maybe you know, but pugs already have stocky built structures and are susceptible to bone and hip problems. He no longer could climb steps and romp around, like the dog he had always been. I know that no matter what the limitations he was given, his spirit continued. I feel so blessed to live in a family that appreciates and yearns for the love of animals. I only hope that the pets we have brought in, have felt loved just as much as I have.

# 1
My newest idea is to have, at least, a weekly "Pic of Adorableness". Sometimes you just need a fluffy or chubby reminder that there are still cute things in this world. Other than those creepy Teletubbies.

You know I'm right.

I'm still deciding a theme or direction I want my blog to have. I want validity of my convictions and of my words, so, I guess, I decided to just "blog" my thoughts, post poems or sporadic jolts of phrases, that are currently overwhelming my journal. Time bears no real meaning; some of the writings were written a month to three years ago.

So here I go, my first poetry post:

"Untitled"

They still ask.

Like I would tell them.

1...2...3...

Take me, Abba. Anyone?

I wasn't really going to say anything. What was there to say?

I wasn't trying to really do anything. At least I think.

Me? No, not me. Though wanting to end.

Don't get me wrong, Life can be a precious thing. So I have read.

The knife just sat there, staring me down.

My dear old friend,

Sweet deadly strokes; tender movements.

Yet, you're still a companion all the same.

But the bottle just sat there, staring me down.

No excuse. Screaming!

My name. Use me. Use.

Only to transfer the pain.

1...2...3...

The more I looked, the more I wasn't there.

I was fading, so fast.

I had to accept.

Too deep to retrieve.

Though they tried their best.

Persistent symptoms,

After a traumatic event? Ha.

Ninety-nine wasn't enough?

Did you really think you could do better?

Sooner or later you'll crash, and burn, and,

Fall, choked by the chains that you wrapped.

Tied so neatly around your weak pathetic legs.

Don't worry, you have done "good":

tried to follow demands,

Please any, thank plenty.

But you still hear it.

It'll never be enough-

That's my poison.

1...2...3...

Don't come too close,

Don't speak so sweet, and soft.

I don't need, I don't want you.

Can't handle it, those compliments.

I don't believe you, never will.

It hurts too much. You'll just leave.

I move, move quick. Quicker.

1...2...3...

They still ask.

But what to say?

More will come. They're aren't all depressing. But a lot were written during depressing times, so that may be a trailing theme. Till then.

First of Many.

This is one of the many quick rants:

• It would be really nice if my school wouldn't block any, and all, sites that contains pictures. It totally defeats the purpose of using my subscribed blogs for art resources. I understand that the public school administrators are trying to avoid lawsuits by "protecting" children from risque photos, but you should only censor so much. The art students need internet assistance. It is the Technology Age! I am against censorship, but control of availability is different, as long as it doesn't become detrimental to the ones that need it.
  

I need my photos of fucking awesome embroidery designs.
(It's pretty important.)

• More To Come...