Decision!

Stress about decisions has caught up on me. Decisions about relationships, priorities, time, hobbies, and life in general.

I had strayed away from the Foam Cabinet for a while, probably because I got a little fed up with it.

So I went to it today, and came upon boldness.

Boldness!!


Described as not being fearful or hesitant in the face of danger, rebuff, or discomfort, and as being courageous or daring, boldness is one of those qualities I wish I had more of. And the Foam Cabinet had some for me.

I went to open the Foam Cabinet up, and saw that the bottom of it was gone. There was an indeterminably deep, black hole right there in front of me.

Before I tell you what happened, I must ask: How would you react if there was a deep, seemingly endless hole in front of you? It would make sense to drop something down there first, to see how deep it was, right?

Yeah.

I jumped in.

I'm serious, my curiosity could kill me one day... and I'm incredibly cautious.

But I did jump in.

And I haven't found much, because I don't remember what happened next. All I can say is that if I saw that hole again, I'd jump in again. Why?

Because now I can walk up to anyone and love who they are in that same instant.

Now I can tell anyone anything without much regret.

Now I can study God's word without nerves.

Now I can say no to peer pressure.

Now I can make decisions.

I'm no longer concerned with what other people think...

And I'm no longer concerned with the restricted customs of this world.

If I wanna say something, I'll say it.

If I wanna do something, I'll do it.

I've got boldness now!!

=D

New Reminder

Inside the Foam Cabinet... It's a strange little world. The guy who had a fork over me happened to be holding my hand, not a fork. He was checking my pulse. Go figure.

So I asked him, "How did you get inside the Foam Cabinet?"

"I just looked inside, and the next thing I knew... you were on top of me, unconscious," he replied.

"That's strange. Sorry."

"No big deal. You kept me warm," he smiled. This kid was half on top of me, still holding my wrist. He intertwined his fingers with mine, and did the same to my other hand, pulling me up to a sitting position.

I took a good look at him. He really did look familiar. He was a little difficult to see; it was almost pitch black inside the Foam Cabinet. Whoever he was, he sure did smell good. REALLY good. And he was incredibly warm.

"I recognize you, but I can't put a name to the face..." I mumbled.

He stayed silent, studying my face.

"What is yo--"

He stroked my face gently.

He leaned in closer, his breath closing my eyes and parting my lips.

His hand on my neck, he pulled me to him.

Right as we were about to kiss, I woke up.

It was all a dream.

I got really upset, and ran around anxiously, looking for the Foam Cabinet. It was sitting where it usually does.

I tried to open the Foam Cabinet, but the door was stuck. I kept trying. I started to pry at the door, scratching foam off everywhere. I wanted to find out what was going on.

Finally, I gave up, and sat down next to the Foam Cabinet. I started to cry in frustration. How could such a thing happen? Why were dreams so cruel?

After I got some tears out, I looked over at the Foam Cabinet. It didn't have any scratch marks anymore. I got up and tried once more to open it.

Inside was a pinecone.

Just a pinecone...

And for the rest of the week, I took that pinecone wherever I went.

My thoughts never ventured away from that guy, though.

He smelled just like that pinecone.

Unexpected

When I open the Foam Cabinet, most everything is unexpected. 


But now that I'm inside...


Here's what happed.


The person I'm lying on top of is warm. He smells good, too. I feel a pulse, and he's breathing. I tried to open the Foam Cabinet, but can't. I realize that it could probably only be opened from the outside. This proves to be a dilemma. 


Time passes, and I get sleepy. 


Soon, I'm fast asleep...


In my dream, everything is perfect. Everything turns out exactly the way I want it, only better. The dream lasts for a while... then suddenly, an image is stuck to my mind.

I can't get the image out of my mind. It drives me crazy! I toss and turn in my sleep. 


I'm woken up. There the guy is...


A fork in his hand...

In Simplicity

A person was found in the Foam Cabint today, moments away from death. When I saw him laying there.... I cried. I didn't know his story, though I recognized his face. I prayed for him, crying on his chest, hugging him with all I could give. 

At least, that's what I hope I did.

After a long time, I closed the Foam Cabinet, both of us inside. The door actually shut this time. And my whole world changed.

Oh, Snap.

There was a note on the Foam Cabinet a couple days ago. It told me to listen. And this is what I heard.

I was so excited that I couldn't contain myself. Seriously...
Then, the Foam Cabinet had a little note under the "listen" one. It said to stop. It said to LISTEN.

The song was ringing in my head... I wondered what the Foam Cabinet meant.

A little confused, I opened the Foam Cabinet. Inside was a note that said, "Look up. Go out, stop, look up, and listen."

So I did.

Guess what I saw? Guess what I heard?

I felt it in the air that night. My Lord. I've been waiting for Him all my life.
He's always been there...

He showed me the moon. The big, bright, beautiful full moon.

He let me remember everything.

EVERYTHING.

So I stopped, and I listened. I listened to the distance of the world. I listened to the non-silence of nature. Trees whispering, insects chattering, my own heart beating... I fell in love that night. I had already been in love with Him before, but I felt renewed.

I felt free. It wasn't the song. Oh, snap.

A Guest!

I felt a little lonely... so I opened the Foam Cabinet.

Glitter fell out!
Now my face is covered in it.

I looked in my bathroom at the reflective tiles, to see the damage done.

It's really not that bad...

But now there's glitter everywhere.

So it's time to clean up...

Turns out, it you put a wet wipe on the glitter, most of it comes off. Most of it...

I guess I'll have to be a vampire today.

Twice

The Foam Cabinet opens.

Out pops a turtle. His shell is made of sixty bones.

He has battle scars.

The turtle runs to hide...

But I catch it.

Then it dissappears.

Out of the Foam Cabinet now comes six horses.

They walk around a mountain.

Then, as the Foam Cabinet closes, they vanish.

Look up the word curple. It rhymes with purple. And it has to do with horses.

In a way, I miss the simplicity of the brick.

An Effect

As I walked to the Foam Cabinet, I noticed something new. There was a small dent in the top; almost enough to penetrate the strange material, but not quite. I opened the Foam Cabinet to fix the dent from the inside. Nothing seemed to be in the Foam Cabinet at the time, so I considered it safe.

Pushing on the ceiling of the Foam Cabinet, I noticed that I could probably fit myself inside and close the door. I was curious to find out what made the Foam Cabinet tick. I stepped in and sat on the half-shelf. My head touched the top of the Foam Cabinet, cranning my neck ever so slightly. I reached to close the door, only to find the edge of it about a centimeter out of my reach.

Still curious, I half-stood and grasped the edge of the door. My back was arched in that akward position no one can stand in for too long. I pulled the door back.

It wouldn't close.

Why?

Because my feet were just a little too big to put on the floor while the door is shut, and the shelf I was sitting on isn't deep enough to sit back. There I was, hunched in a most uncomfortable position. Plus, the Foam Cabinet was causing static electricity. My hair was sticking to the still-dented ceiling.

Determined not to let the Foam Cabinet defeat me, I tried to squish myself into any remaining space, so the door would close. The result was simple: the shelf of the Foam Cabinet broke.

I thought that this was my solution, but I still couldn't close the door. The shelf was now on the floor, in the way. I attepted to move it, then tried closing the door again.

In vain.

Little peices of styrofoam started to get into my clothes. I got itchy. I stepped out of the Foam Cabinet to fix the shelf, but the shelf had managed to misplace itself. I looked around a little franticly, then realized that it was stuck to the back of my shirt somehow.

I tried to get the shelf off my back, but every time I moved my shoulders, it would move just out of reach. And I was itchy. And my hair was still staticy. And there was still a dent in the top of the Foam Cabinet.

I threw a short temper tantrum and shook my body so the shelf would come off. It flew a few feet away, so I had to walk over to it and bend down to pick it up.

I took the shelf back to the Foam Cabinet and tried to fix it.

In vain.

You just can't put styrofoam onto styrofoam and expect it to stick automatically. It turns out that it sticks when you don't want it to. Which is what happened... I gave up, and attepted to close the door again, this time with me on the outside and the shelf on the inside.

The door wouldn't close, because the shelf was stuck to the door.

I flew into a rage and kicked the Foam Cabinet. Instead of my foot going through the wall satifyingly, the Foam Cabinet simply half-floated, half-scootched back. I turned away, yelling. It took me a while to calm down.

Lo and behold, once I looked back at the Foam Cabinet, the door was closed. The dent was gone. It was as if nothing had been done wrong to the Foam Cabinet.

I opened the door.

The shelf was there, fixed. And on the shelf was a little slip of paper, unsymmetrically torn. On it was one word.

"Irritation".

I walked away for the day, changed. Because behind me, the Foam Cabinet was no different from the first time I saw it. As for me, I could either laugh it off, or remain as the slip of paper said.

What's In The Foam Cabinet?

This is the Foam Cabinet. 

In the Foam Cabinet is something, someone, somewhere, or somehow.

It's different every day, whatever it is. 

Not to be confusing, I'll start simple.

Today, I open the Foam Cabinet and find a brick. 

This brick is made of clay. I do not have any better equipment to obsrve the brick than my own two eyes, my ten fingers, and all the nerves my body wants to provide. The brick is not soft, nor is it rough. It would not be pleasant to bite, but it is satisfying to paint. Not with watercolors, but any other paint would do. 

I pick the brick up. It's about five pounds, more or less. Enough to draw blood, if dropped on one's head. How do I know this? Because this brick has been dropped from a simple distance of five feet, onto someone's head. They're not dead.

The observations stop here, because the Foam Cabinet closes, and the brick dissappears.