Check out out gallery of Retreat9 pictures, now available online to view and download. In the galley you can view all 300+ images in any way you choose with any color scheme that suits you best.
You can even upload your own pictures to our gallery and add them to the Retreat9 collection. Just look for the “upload” button.
That’s right, we’re having a Super Sale on Reteat9! This is the lowest you’ll ever be able to pay to get to go on the Retreat.
Here’s the deal. You have to come to any of our 4 Bridge locations on Friday, February 27th, sign up (if you haven’t already), and pay in full. If you do this, you’ll be able to go to The Bridge’s Retreat9 for only $80 (regularly $95).
Bring your permission slips with you. You can download them from letnothingmoveyou.com or have your parent come to The Bridge with you to fill it out.
Here’s the locations you can sign up and pay at:
Elmora
Elmora School #12
638 Magie Ave
Elizabeth, NJ 07208
8pm - 9:30pm
—————————-
Midtown
The Liberty Center
1121 Elizabeth Ave
Elizabeth, NJ 07201
8pm - 9:30pm
—————————-
North Elizabeth
Robert Morris School #18
860 Cross Ave
Elizabeth, NJ 07208
8pm - 9:30pm
—————————-
School 23
Nicolas Murray Butler School #23
501 Union Ave
Elizabeth, NJ 07208
8pm - 9pm
—————————-
If you have any questions you can email us or download our Retreat9 FAQ at letnothingmoveyou.com or give us a call at 908-289-6322 x 103.
Retreat9 is open to any teenager between 12 and 18 years old.
Vol 5:
I found it!
Or should I say it found me?
This so-longed peace.
My eyes became waterfalls of affection as
my past became a mist.
I released my anger with opened fist.
For a mere moment I heard the applause
and cheer of people I could only hear.
But the door still remained…
around its borders, the darkness of the pain.
I shrink at the Rio Grande leading to restoration.
My feet were like cement, blocks my entrance.
My vision was stagnant, my stomach churned
like a ship’s furnace.
Ecstatic for my voyage is Titanic.
I panicked.
I stand at this door, my feet glued to the floor.
I’m just not sure…
I can’t talk right.
My walk isn’t precise.
Even though I walk in Nikes, I just can’t do it.
But, I’m the One comforting you.
What are you afraid of?
Some man or woman who’ll soon be dead?
Some poor wretch destined for dust?
No, not at all! I fear nothing.
But this call is not all comforting.
My mind spasms at the thought of what’s next
or better yet what’s left.
I still feel a weight, like an old piece still awake.
Three seconds left, and I cut the wrong wire.
Reneged with my heart on this spaded hand.
How can I move on if I’m just a jaded man?
Vol 4:
Why?
Because I have it all planned out.
Plans to take care of you, not to abandon you.
Plans to give you the future you hope for.
When you call on me, when you come and cry to me
I’ll listen.
When you come looking for me you’ll find me.
Yes, when you get serious about finding me
and want it more than anything else
I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed.
In what way, shape, or form could you voice me these things?
I’ve hurt and shamed and sworn
that I would never bring pain to those whom my love claims.
Instead I’ve bound them in chains.
Their cries of release brings no sense of relief.
I’m a thief yet you don’t want to imprison me.
From the top of Lauren’s Hill I hear a redemption song.
Oh voice, you are so convincingly strong
yet doubt clouds what I truly long.
The fact that I want to belong.
I want to forget my wrongs and know what path I’m on.
Yet I’m stuck in this Pantheon with so many figures to choose.
I need statutes, not lifeless statues
who look at me with such disgust.
Who only give me distrust on what is just.
Oh voice, how I wish you were a man with stronger hands than your words
to rip open a portal to happiness.
How I wish you were more than a whisper.
I’ve already told you I could see your teary eyes.
I could identify.
The name-calling, the meaningless beatings…
I’ve been there.
The welps and the bleeding.
The standing bare-naked in front of rare faces
of different colors and races.
I’ve tasted it…
that bittersweet symphony that kept you down, unable to move.
The weight of its groove.
I’ve been there just like you.
But unlike you I kept lips sealed to things I used to feel
to give it purpose and appeal.
This room has a lock like a scroll has a seal.
Open it through me and experience what is real.
In this place I make my stand.
Joy holds my hand.
She places herself behind me as the winds of change sway my decisions
in this emotional wave of uncertainty.
I’m scared as the wind suddenly halts
and again I’m reminded of my faults.
But your voice and joy doesn’t stall in encouraging me about this safe call.
Looking over this valley of emotional death
I see my wings of hope open to glide even though I have an extremely heavy breath.
And even though I’m so scared and stumped
I’ll taste air,
close my eyes,
and jump.
Words and music by Michael Regalado and William Hartz
When:
Friday, October 17, 10pm - Saturday, October 18, 7am
What is it?
Unlimited basketball, batting cages, soccer, football, and all kinds of other sports. Laser tag, arcade games, food, and fun.
How much:
$25.00
What else do I need to know?
We’re meeting at Elizabeth High School Dwyer House at 10pm on Friday, Oct 17, directly after The Bridge. We’ll be back around 7am on October 18.
Payments and permission slips are due at Sanctuary on October 12.
For more information, email us or call 908-289-6322×103.
Vol 3:
Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on stress?
Come to me.
Walk with me and work with me.
Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.
For a moment it didn’t matter how I was broken.
Flattered, I staggered my vision
towards the light with sounds of men, women, and children.
A soothing melody mellowed me
and overtook my tears.
It slowly brought visual dreams out of my ears.
I was able to see. To believe.
Suddenly it made perfect sense to me.
I had to go to the voice,
but a sudden black stride from inside whispered to remind,
told me to rewind and look what I’ve left behind.
I looked behind me, stood a woman with a belt.
My arms were numb and full of welps.
Another came with stealth,
hands on my pelvis.
Helpless. I need help!
Yet another came with southern game
lighting up a flame.
His shirt read shame.
Behind them all the hooded main remained.
Empty, I felt pleased.
The words spoken.
The door opened.
I felt good but frozen.
My mind flooded with questions:
Could the voice be trusted,
or is it another failed life lesson?
Can he bring the truth or more oppression?
Will I ever escape this room,
find another connection?
Can it bring me a father, love, or affection?
Is it after what I could offer,
or is he a deceiving impostor?
And if I was to give it a try…
why?
Vol 2:
From vibrations, the sounds became pictures
became people in here with me.
No skin motioned to really exists.
Every time I reached to touch, they vanished.
I managed my knees to an upright position
yet the man stood in front of the door.
My heart found a permanent residence in my vocal chords
to drown out my misery.
And it speaks to everyone my feelings.
This dark man x’s his arms and says,
“Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh. I’m one with you
until the very death.”
A gloom of heavy smoke made the walls glow
to a brighter green than before.
The man sarcastically laughs in a carousel-like
movement as the room inhaled and exhaled.
A deep sense of irritation
brought forth an irrigation down on my face
to a rage never experienced.
A sudden dash, accompanied by a last attempt.
To live?
The doors, the voice, this room…
Is there life beyond these walls?
A hope encroached, approached and called.
Every breath taken was a sob.
A sense of being robbed.
Flashes of moments where this room I wasn’t in.
An emotion I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t begin.
My deepest fear became the face of my opponent.
Erroneous thoughts escaped when I saw his hands
identical to mine.
I dropped.
A force of light glittered and the being dissolved before my sight.
Vol 1:
This place where my life meets a common reality.
This deep hole where invisibility tells me to focus.
I chuckle in disbelief,
caressed by a sinister grief.
Since he spoke to me a dim light shines
and lets me see shadows of where hands have been.
But these secrets I’ve hidden Hyde who I’ve become.
Visions of tears, embodied fears, attack my vulnerability
as my strength is sapped.
This light brings to life my past to convict me.
Conviction exposes the monster entrapped.
But where I am, a past life is but a faint memory.
Searching in this room I could only hug my misfortune,
talk to my sorrow standing heavy and oppressive,
whispering me to a daze.
Wishing I could borrow or burrow for an escape,
to run like hell from this Pink Wall
without talk of tomorrow.
Discreetly and feebly my arteries dried.
My spirit became pale and determination died.
The push of my burden enough to enslave,
With extreme force I collapsed
expecting to meet a determined grave.
Once again I disengaged into the numbness of my guilt and rage.
And the wails echoed in my room.
Words and music by Michael Regalado and William Hartz
