This may be the last post.

I don't want to write anymore.
All I do is write about how I feel.
If I feel crappy,
which is most of the time,
it's just a like a selfish cry for help kind of bull crap.
If I feel good,
I just feel like I'm lying to myself.
No matter what the case,
it's just a unfulfilling waste of time,
because who am I kidding?
I have this personality that just makes people feel bad,
whether on purpose or not, and
I don't want people to feel bad for me.
If my life sucks it's my fault.
If I know why it sucks then I need to change it.
But, I don't,
so boo hoo,
who cares.

This is just not really helping anyone,
so I'm done.

.

Listening to some death cab...




This is getting so hard.
Writing about it just makes my mind shut off.
I have lost myself minute after minute,
chasing my own tail.
Only to bite myself.
I don't know what I'm trying to do anymore.



shalom.

The L-Word

Love is greatest.
But, sometimes, it does not fix anything.
Because that is not it's job.
Sometimes I just want people to listen, not love, not preach, not write in all caps...
I would rather have someone listen out of hate than to not listen to me out of love.

Listening is far more important to me right now.


shalom.

Just Sad and Tired.

I have lots of hope for this world.
Yet,
I have saved none of it for myself.

I constantly try to hold myself back from saying, "Why the hell am I like this?!?"
Everyone has a moment where they realize they need to change.
I have one more often than not, lately.
Nothing changes.
I just get depressed and want to say that none of this really matters.
That makes people sad.
I don't like making people sad.
So,
I block it all out,
take it all in,
turn it in to silence,
and let no one see or hear.
Telling sad stories is appeasing to us for some reason,
but not when it is our own.

I'm not finding anything right now... and... I want to do so more than anything.
I want to find myself again.
I want to find my heart again.
I want to find my God again.
I want to find my discipline again.
I want to find my friends again.
I want to find my Leah again.

And not be someone who constantly needs caring for.
I don't want to be sick any more.
I don't want to take medicine any more.
I am so tired of this kind of life.
I am 24.
People my age are drunk half the time, not giving a damn about what happens next, blowing all their money away on stupid things, and traveling to where ever in this world sounds good at the time.
I don't want all of that.
I just want to not care about myself.
I just want to love people and figure out what that means,
but "I can't," and I still really haven't figured out why.

Close to 8,000 dollars every six months.
Just give it to some village, so they may live for years and years.
Generations of countries could live on the money spent for my medicine.
That screams to me, "NOT WORTH IT!"


I'm sorry.


I am just overwhelmed with the sadness of what "the future holds."

shalom.
i really hope,
shalom.

Relax.

This was not intended to be an attack,
but a reminder to teenagers to just think about what they go through
and to use it and to learn from it
rather than stay the same forever,
because that is just sad.

shalom.

Teenagers

Having a job with teenagers,
I have realized that I work with the most selfish and blaming people ever--teenagers.
They can't help it, though. It's a process of life. Figuring out yourself is hard work. I can't even blame them, because I did the same thing, had the same personality 5 years ago.
I just hope to see them grow out of it healthily, rather than get stuck in it.
Right now, I guess I just see myself there to help fight it.
To let kids know that life is hard, not impossible.
To let them know that every one's parents messed them up emotionally some how, but everyone gets over it, or should, at least.
To let them know to be honest and take the blame for yourself, not to lie to everyone (including yourself) about who's fault it is.
To let them know they are so cool, they don't have to try so hard to impress their friends.
To let them know that fashion is very unoriginal and expensive.
To let them know that discipline with what you do is the only way anyone makes it.

Unfortunately, some teenagers do not learn these things.
Then, they become horrible, struggling adults.

Shalom.

crash

This world is crashing.
There are so many problems.
So many questions.
So many answers.
Yet, we cannot rely on this world to fix itself.
We can only rely on the change of ourselves on an individual level.
Believer or not,
no one can tell me this world would be worse
if we all started trying to act with more love than we are used to.

I don't see anything but good
coming out of an attempt
to be like Jesus Christ,
believer or not.

That arises the question:
Are we willing to be more concerned about others instead of ourselves?

That is hard to answer.
We have so many reasons that we "can't":
Medical Fiascoes.
Depression.
"Not enough" Money.
Difficulty.
Too Busy.
Danger.
Ignorance.

I know these reasons
aren't really good enough reasons
to not to attempt to love, to help, to sacrifice a little more each day.
Yet, I still contradict myself by not doing this.

We are all guilty.
We are also free.
To choose right.
To choose wrong.
To re-evaluate.
And choose again.


shalom.

Maybe I am a little too tired, but this is what I think:

Everyone one of us tries to be God.
We judge.
We judge others.
Boiling down the basis of another's actions. Determining whether they deserve heaven or hell. For eternity or for this moment.
Or,
We judge ourselves.
Wondering if we will ever do the right thing or if we maybe have life right.

We don't know.
But,
it makes it a lot easier to guess.
It does.

Yet,
nothing is solved.

Fingers are merely pointed.
Deciding to jam a digit into another's breast bone,
or into our own.
Giving pain like it is something to be passed on-- to take turns with,
or to hurt ourselves so that we don't have to think about what really hurts.

Life already has enough pain and enough answers.
Why try to add more?


Maybe I am just tired,
but that is what I think.

Shalom.

Hide and Go Seek

This past week has really been a trip for me. There came a moment where I finally realized what I am lacking in relational communication. It's quite difficult to change something about one's self so drastically.
Everything comes with time.
Our hope.

Our dream.

Our love.

Our purpose.

Our life.

I used to tell spoiled youth group kids, "Imagine where Jesus is, then go there. Imagine what Jesus is doing, then do that."

I will admit,

I haven't seen Jesus in my life at all, lately,

but,

I just know he is there.

Waiting.

For what?

Now, that is the question, isn't it?

We all have things that Jesus is waiting for us to loose.

fear.others' judgements.preconceived notion that no one listens.schedule.bitterness towards the other person.possessions that possess yourself.need to be right.bottle.reasons to not do. the mistakes.oh, the mistakes i make. dear God, forgive me.

We shall all be lost at one time or another.

No one can be found if they hide from everyone, especially themselves.

Like hide and go seek games that we try to lose.

The loser is the winner.

The one who is found is no longer lost.

Come out of your best hiding spots.

shalom.

I don't know where to place myself, in this pendulum. I think about the problems in my life, then I make a choice. I either blame others or I doubt myself entirely. Right now I am doubting myself. I don't want to be caught in a cycle, but, then again, I want to understand myself so that I'm not trapped in this lonely desperation that I often find myself in.

shalom.

Baby Tooth

Where is the line?
Of caring for others and of caring for yourself?
I feel selfish for saying this,
because I feel as if the "body of Christ" would let me die,
like I'm a baby tooth holding on for dear life;
only being pushed out so that I may be stored under a pillow.

I want to say it's not true,
but I can't.

It's just lonely,
when contradictions of love arise,
when it seems that I have nothing to offer worthy,
when I feel God trying to tell me different.

I used to be bitter about this and I think I deserved to be,
but bitterness only lasts so long until it turns into sadness.

I think about this a lot.
I want to stop being critical and start being practical.
I'm not just comlaining for the sake of complaining.

shalom.

It remains.

It remains:

I contradict what I believe many times.
I am far off from living the things I preach so highly about.


but, never the less...


shalom.

Answered Prayers of the Material Variety

I believe God does answer prayers.
I also believe that God waits for us to give answered blessings away;
That we were to never keep them.

I say this because,
The only way I can make any sense of this world is by one thing:
Love.

The only way I can understand love is by seeing it as one thing:
Giving away the blessing you have been given (or think you have earned).

Without question.
Without shame.
Without hesitation.
Without payback.

shalom.

Purgatory = Indiana

I have learned to play, "Everything in it's right place" by Radiohead, on the piano.
That is something to brag about.

What goes on with me? You surely know. You surely don't. I'm no more sure of that than you may be.

I am getting a little sick. I still don't have health coverage to live in Indiana.

I am in purgatory; A place I thought I didn't believe in.
More Catholic than I expected to find myself.

I still have hope.
Friends have offered to help.
I'm not going to start dying yet.
The fact of that, makes things a little less stressing.
I do not have enough free time to make that infamous list of, "things to do before I die",
so if death started nearing, this would be the first time I wouldn't be ready.

I wonder if certain people would ask me where my faith is in all of this.
I wonder what that phrase means anymore.
A goal of my life was to make faith something to do, to live, and to not praise yourself for having.
My faith is in Jesus Christ, still. It has not bended.
I still don't know what it fully means to believe in Jesus, (Either do you.)
,but I do strive to find out, still.
This is not really a "sufficient" answer for most, but then again I struggle with giving Christians "sufficient" answers.

Shalom.

Why do I keep on with blog, blog, blog?

Now listening to: William Fitzsimmons

Every couple of weeks, I'll go through and sort of lump-read all of the writings that my friends have posted on their blogs since I've read them last.
For some odd reason, I noticed something on my round-a-bouts this evening.
Not for the ones who decide to no longer write on these webbed journals,
but for the rest of us, who keep persisting, for whatever reason:
(Trust me. I don't mean to be rude with how blunt I shall be in this next sentence.)

It seems that we're all just filling the Internet for the sake of filling the Internet.
We're all just doing this cycle.
I don't whether it is good or bad.
Are we too consumed of our consumer-selves in a consumer society?
Am I too numb to the beautiful cycle of human being's thoughts and jots?

I can only answer for myself.

I use this as a tool to say, "I've been honest enough tonight."
I use this to reassure myself, "I am witty and intellectual with words."
I use this a as cry for help sometimes.
But I never actually cry to anyone.
And I never accept real help.
I use this because sometimes I just like to write and know someone will read what I've written.
I use this as a type of traditional prayer-- waiting for God to spark something with in my practicing fingers-- maybe a revolution.

And sometimes,

I don't know what I am trying to do.

Isn't that life?
We do things blindly, hoping to actually see God working in our feeble hands.
Think to ourselves: This will do something for someone. I suppose that is a reason.

Shalom.

Our Ears. Our Hearts.

I have called you children.
I have call you son.

What is there to answer,

if i'm the only one?...

I believe this world can change. I believe all the truth shall break free. Our ears shall finally know what it means to hear. Our hearts will finally know what it means to listen.

Morning comes in paradise,
Morning comes in light.
Still I must obey.
Still I must invite...

I believe this world will change. I believe one person will understand what it means to be free. Our ears shall finally hear this voice. Our hearts will finally undestand freedom, as well.

If there's anything to say,
If there's anything to do,
If there's any other way,
I'll do anything for you...

I believe we know the person who has the blessing of leading a world to better. I believe we dream about that person. Our ears hear their name ring through our ears. Our hearts skip a beat when the thought of them enters.

I was dressed embarassment.
I was dressed in white.
If you have a part of me,
wil you take your time?...

I believe a person walks this world waiting for a sign, whether knowing it or not. I believe no one will give them that sign. Our ears shall be listening to our own voices. Our hearts will be too comfortable.

Even if I come back,
Even if I die,
Is there some idea,
To replace my life?...

I believe that person will be ignored deemed as nothing more than ordinary and average. Our ears shall be put to the test. Our hearts will be too concerned with being correct.

Like a father to impress,
Like a mother's mourning dress,
If you ever make a mess,
I'll do anything for you...

I believe that person will end up not talking as much, because the world will not listen. I believe it will be too late for most to change their minds about listening.

I have called you preacher.
I have called you son.
If you have a father,
Or if you haven't one...

Our ears shall start bleeding. Our hearts will stop.

I'll do anything for you...
I did everythign for you...

Shalom.

I come to a point where life is frustrating.
I have had time to write on this, but I do not do so.
I don't write because I don't want to be honest about how I feel.
Because when I'm honest and it's not some sort of holy perfection of an emotion, then someone feels that they need to, "call me out," and give me some sort of speech about how I need to see God in this. Which is funny how people do that, because seeing God isn't that easy, from my experience. Not only that, but it just seems like something someone says to keep others from thinking about the sad in this world, because they don't want to think about it either. Like seeing God is just going to make you not care about the sad. I don't think so. I think God very much cares about the sad in this world.
All that to say: I shall write this. Read this if you would like. That is all.

I'm afraid.
I'm afraid to let people know how scary, how hopeless, how depressing my life seems at the moment.
I'm afraid to tell people that they have no right to tell me otherwise.
Any person would be where I am at emotionally if they had these events happening to them.
"It's okay," was never anything I needed to hear. I know it's okay.
I do have hope.
Hope does not make life any easier.
Hope helps me realize that pain does not last forever.
Hope does not alleviate fear of what may happen right now.
Hope gives reason to say that life is aiming towards something.

The fact remains: I am wore down to a nub. I hear, "Don't give up." I try and try again to fight against my brain when things get too hard. It never helps. Problems seem to pile up on the highway on my back, until I cannot take the weight anymore. How can I not give up when mostly all of it points to giving up? There is only so much a human being can take. I pray to God that I am not given too much too handle.
This life will go on until then, so therefore I must walk where I can.

Shalom.

"It's funny how people only say that after they do something bad.
I mean, you never hear someone say, "I'm only human" after they rescue a kid from a burning building."

-United States of Leland

Happy = Good?

Now Listening to: Lupe Fiasco

I can't accept what I type when I'm am happy.
Is that an obvious coincidence?
I feel blind.
Being happy merely makes me frustrated.
All of what I want is obscure and blurry.
All of what I want to express is exempt.
Creativity is creatively kept from creating.
Is happiness blind?
Is happiness ignorant?
Is happiness fake?
I hope not, but I don't feel like a real person when I am happy.

I don't have the experience to say so, though.

Shalom.

I am having a very good day.


That is all.


Shalom.

shalom.

Fake it, Con'td.

I may have come to a point where my own hypocrisy plays into this.
Because I do struggle with not doing things that are to better myself.
What happened is I met with an accountability group every week, or every other, or whatever.
The point is I've decided not to go.
I don't feel like it, but that's not the reason I chose not to go. That was just coincidence. But, again, I say that was not the reason.
Here are my reasons:

I felt like that I already knew all the guys in this group. I wasn't learning anything more about them from the group, but I was learning things about these guys before. So, it's like what's the point?

I felt like there's just too many people. We basically have hour to talk about what's going on. That is hard to do with six people.

I felt like it was said, "this is a commitment." But, honestly, it never seemed like one. If one person didn't show up, we wouldn't meet. If two people had a leadership meeting, we wouldn't meet. If nobody was going except for me and my roommate, we wouldn't find out until a half of an hour before we had to meet. There was not commitment. If someone couldn't make it on the one day a week we wouldn't try to figure something out so we could meet. We just would skip it. Inconveniently, every time this would be canceled, I would really need it.

I hate the fact that "we", as a generation, society, whatever, need to set aside a time to be open and honest with other rather than doing all the time. Maybe that is just me, but I feel that I try to be honest with people all the time and try to listen to people being honest all the time. Maybe I'm a freak, but I feel honesty and vulnerability are quiet necessary in all aspects of life. Having a group to do so, just isn't necessary for me.

Lastly, I just had to ask myself: Is this bringing me closer to Jesus? Is this helping me become a more holy or better man?
And, the answer was "no".
Not because of the people in it.
Not because I was a little frustrated with one of them.
Just because this group thing isn't for me.
I don't need this group to know the things I know about these guys, or to keep learning what's in their hearts, or to have them ask me what's going on with my life, or to tell me the latest thing they've learned, or to tell me what they think Jesus meant, or just to sit.
But, I do need friends.

Sorry that was so long.
I keep finding myself having to explain it to friends.

Shalom.

Fake it.

Now listening to: Josh Garrels

I find myself getting angry with everyone, lately.
I know that only means there is something with myself that I am angry with.
That could be, oh, so many things.
I do understand that I am angry with myself.
I can probably list the reasons and how I have convinced myself thousands of times to not stop doing so.
There comes a point where I try to find the balance.
I am a sinner. I dream of Jesus.
I should be upset with defiled sacrifice. I should be glad that he merely wants a sacrifice.
But with my anger, I have not had love or joy in my heart,
which means my balance is too lop-sided.
I cannot prove myself wrong. My logic is set.
I must believe that body and spirit are one;
That if I attempt force my body to find Jesus, even if my heart may want it,
and that my spirit will get something out of it also, even if I may not notice it.
We always thought, "fake it to make it," was such a bad phrase.
Everyone, who attempts to be a better person than they are now, is faking it.
That is not wrong.
It is only wrong to believe that you are a better person than anyone else.
Shalom.

I haven't had a constant thought in my head for weeks.
shalom.

Work, Sleep, then Work

I can't believe I was at work 8 hours ago and am about to go back.... dang.
I was having a weird dream.
I was working at the youth center,
then I got lost and scared.
I found myself in a unit where a kid chopped another kids hand off in self-defense.
I remeber thinking, "How could I ever restrain this crap?"
I went to take a break in the woods.
Me and an Indian couple were smoking amazing cigarettes that we bought together.
Finally I saw my friend, Dan, walk past and away from us to the road.
I asked where he was going.
He gave some bullcrap answer.
Then, I yelled, "You know what I think? You're just afraid!"
The End.

Why are my dreams so detailed?
It's like they're more real than my life when I'm awake.
Maybe I'm Neo.
Maybe not.



Shalom.


p.s. I like my job.

Free Write of My Mind

I realized Anderson is the place I've lived longest.
I don't like the sound of that.
Maybe others do. That is fine.
I don't feel like it's a home town.
I don't know. I love the people here.
Leah still needs to finish school.
I need to pay bills.
I can't pack up site and leave immediately.
Well, I can, but it wouldn't be too smart.
So, how do I learn to love a place that I've hated 98% of the time?
I love how everyone told me that the friends you make in college are the ones that last a life time. I certainly believed it. I was very close to them.
Once our senior year came around it was a different story.
I miss them.
I feel I am too different from them.
Then again, I feel I am too different for most people.
I am unique.
Just like everybody else.
I probably just insecure.
Most people are insecure.
I need to break the cycle.
I am sick of not searching for Jesus like a desperate dog digging in a rabbit hole.
With time comes change.
With change comes knowledge.
With knowledge comes ability.
Enough time has passed for me.
There is an answer somewhere in my heart to all of this existential malarkey.
I shall find it.

And, meanwhile...
I'll brush dem haters off.a

shalom.

When Will Everyone Stop Focusing On How They Are Such A Victim?
Myself included.
And yourself included, too.

Life is tough.
That should not stop anything.
Being a martyr for martyrdom's sake is stupidity.

Shall we stop hindering what this life is actually capable of?
I sure hope so.
Myself included.
And yourself included, too.


shalom...

Up and About

Now listening to: Sufjan Stevens

"On the floor at the great divide,
with my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied...

i am crying in the bathroom"

There is so much in this life to worry about.
There is so much of this worry to use at any one's expense.
Especially our own.
Worry is more abundant than money.
Worry is less fulfilling swallowing air.
Yet, it is spent and consumed like a drug.
When God comes down on my face like a ray of sun,
I cannot imagine what will come.
I can only feel my face soaking up the burning heat,
In the most glorious of ways.

"Oh, the glory that the LORD has made,
And, the complications when I see his face in the morning in the window.
Oh, the glory when he took our place,
But, he took my shoulders and he shook my face and he takes and takes and he takes."

Shalom.

I wrote this at work. It's very Mewithoutyou influenced:

It seemed so easy how you led my blind eyes astray. What did I expect from a blind man guiding the way? Like a felt-tip marker on a Bible page, my foolish words of ignorance and rage bled through the message we've believed for billions of days. No longer literate of parable and praise. Only jet black stains translated into foolish paraphrase. Now, at this eleventh hour, when there's no truth to read... I realize how much more of my silence the world actually needs.




shalom.

Direction of Life

Now listening to: City and Colour

I'm starting to wonder where everyone is going.
Not in a heaven/hell sense, but maybe,
because heaven or hell, I believe, are the lens into which we see this life.
But, I think I mean more in a way of what someone wants.
That's become very interesting to me in the past 24 hours.
I just want step up to someone,
raise my head,
and solemnly say,
"What do you want your life to be?"
And if that evokes a passion to assist them,
then so be it.
But, if they just need to let someone hear what they truly want,
then that is just as well.

So, to the random Internet hitchhikers and wanderers of the web,

What do you want your life to be?

I just want...
shalom.
In the deepest sense of the word.

SHALOM.

World

"In the world I see, you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying strips of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned super-highway."
-- Fight Club

I see nothing of this world.
I really wish to.

shalom.

Proximity of Hope

Can I plunge
my hand
into the earth
and stop
the world
from spinning
out of control?

When I'm where
I am right now,

yes.

I believe so.

My vision is clear by one thought.
My proximity of hope.

shalom.

w h e r e i a m .

Honestly,
am I separated from everything?
Because,
it feels that way whenever I look at my life.

I can barely remember how to "get back",
or what it even means to do so.
I know I need to start over.
Head to new point of perspective.
I believe I shouldn't look through my eyes anymore,
but how do you see new hope, new life, new faith,
without the eyes embedded in your face?

True repentance is true change.
God's hand is needed.
First I must find that hand.
My plan for "following Christ" has been set in stone
because of my stubborn mind,
but the tablet needs broken.
Blank prayers are thrown up.
Silence is horrifying.

Every person stumbles through a desert sometime.
Not everyone leaves.
May I not be the doubtful one to say,
"We have no idea what a different place looks like.
It may be dangerous.
It may be fake.
It may be desolate.
It may be worse.
So, I'll just stay in the desert
because this is the way it is
and the way it is what I know."
May I not be the cautious one,
who waits for the promised land to come,
who takes joy in living in misery,
who lies awake hating the desert I am in.
Rather,
Let me be the one who blindly follows
what seems to be whispers
into a journey that is unknown.
That is my prayer.

shalom.

Part 2 of a Pendulum Writing

On the lighter side of things, I am getting pretty stinking tan.
I still haven't received a pay check.
I lost my cellphone.
I have learned how to "handle with care" at work, which means I have learned how to be a humble bad ass (if that exists... well, actually Jesus was, so, then, that is a correct match of adjective and noun) and restrain youth.
I have eaten for free for a very long time. That is a blessing, but my belly is getting a little too pudgy for comfort. Literally, it's hard to sit up straight.
I went to a church service for the first time in lots of months. I enjoyed it.
I rode my bike across town. Painful, but very empowering.
I get to see the love of my life approximately 5 days.
I miss her so.
She is, honestly, my best friend, which I never thought a girl could be my best friend.


Yeah.
Mushy.


SHALOM.
Sorry Mr/Mrs Anonymous for being so snappy,
but you did something worse than hurt me,
you almost crushed every reason to believe in myself.
I couldn't let that happen.
It's taking a long time for me to finally believe in myself,
And, I don't want that taken away again.
I hope you understand.

I'll Write Shalom If I So Please.

Honestly, who ever wrote the comment on the last blog.... that just made no sense about my childhood friend controlling my feelings... and it makes me not want to write at all.

I don't care if I sound negative. Life is negative a lot.
I don't care if I sound depressed. I am depressed a lot.
I know I say shalom. I have learned to have peace in my life. Sometimes I don't have it and, then, it is something to aim for- a prayer. So, don't criticize me and ask me why I say shalom when I'm writing "negatively". Much of the Bible doesn't fit together and "contradicts" itself, but I don't hear Christians giving the Bible advice. That's because may contradiction, is the only thing that can explain/express certain things.
If that is a contradiction to YOU, then that is okay. But, it is not a contradiction to me.
I do not need advice every time I speak. I am not stupid. I am not scared.
I don't know why people I know seem to always give me advice, when I never asked for advice.
I just simply want to be listened to because I am simply writing.
I don't care if everyone understands me. I didn't start a blog for everyone to understand me.

Maybe this is why I feel like I don't fit in with anyone anymore.
Sorry to ramble on, but honestly this is how I feel.


SHALOM.

To Many

Now listening to: The Appleseed Cast

Too many video games.
Too many drinks.
Too many meals.
Too many complaints.
Too many doubts.
Too many judgements.
Too many conveniences.
Too many reasons not to.
Too many ambitions.
Too many misconceptions I give to others.
Too many people on the same "too many's" as me.

Shalom.

Now listening to: The Soft Drugs



I don't want to do anything.

no.


not anything.


shalom.

The sky hasn't fallen asleep for weeks.

Still

We become different people.
For short.
For long.
It happens.
Sometimes others cannot deal with it.
Sometimes they blame themselves.
Maybe I do,
but that is irrelevant.

I only know right now,
that if this person changed,
I would still love her.
And I don't see anything changing that.

shalom.

This is the Jubilee of my Soul

I feel as if life is supposed to be aimed.
Like cross hairs on what our ultimate purpose is.
I used to always check where I was aiming before I shot.
Now, not so much.
I need to get back to that.
And, quit "wasting time" in the biggest sense of the word.
I have been too worried about making myself a martyr.
I have missed the point.
Where grace, true grace, and love, true love, meet.
Steady.
Aim.
Fire.
I see today finally being different.
I haven't seen a day like that in a very long time.
This is the day.
For me to have an excuse to stop being to apathetic.
This is the day.


Shalom.

I Am A Sorry Mess

I never felt more at fault then at that moment.
I never wanted to rescue someone more then her.

And I just drove
Three hours away,
Then six more.

I hurt someone to the point of destruction,
then decide to mend things.
I only have epiphanies on the eleventh hour.
I finally understand how to be there for someone,
then leave.

Why is it that?

I am no martyr,
But I sure try to act like one.

Shalom.

Now listening to: Headphones



I've got like a REAL job.
Woah.
Two 11 hour days..
Booyah.
Ummm... now I sleep.
ZzzzzzZzzzzz...


shalom.

Doubting Others' Intentions

How come we question the love from the people that love us most?
It's not accountability.
It's something we convince ourselves that is a "calling to more",
whatever that may mean.

Maybe we all just push everyone away for no reason at all.
Maybe we disguise this by pulling people close, then push them away.
Maybe we are handicapped to being perfect and we are totally ignorant.
Maybe humans have no reason to be trusted because they are not perfect.
Maybe we have decided not to love because love seems to always end or fade.
Maybe we try to test others' love so we know it's "real".

Or, maybe we need to say the hell with everything that prevents love from occurring.
And, maybe we need to stretch ourselves out to others over and over and over again--
Just assuming that the good in their hearts is true.

Because, all of the reasoning to not do so seems to be making me depressed, lonely, and pessimistic about this life, world, and purpose here.

Shalom.

It's been a week.
Birthdays have passed. Fourth of July has passed. I started working.
I've been burnt out from social activity.
I've been tired.
I've been tiring.
I've been hurt.
I've been hurting.
I've been misunderstood.
I've been misunderstanding.

How do you show what love truly is, especially, when you know you have trouble discribing it?
"Just living it out" hasn't seemed to work.
Attempting to explain it hasn't seemed to work.
Telling of where I've come short of it hasn't seemed to work.

I could be wrong.
I am most of the time.


shalom.

i don't know...
off to babysit another house...


shalom.

William.

Pretty little kitty used to come by everyday.
Now he doesn't give the least bit of visiting.
We are out of cat food.

Screw you William.
You eat way too much anyways,
And you smell.
Thinking you're all cute with your fluffy tail,
Black coat, and white boots...

Yeah, you are.
Please come over to the porch.


shalom.

Tiny Little Alien in My Domain

I saw you walking.

You were minding your own business--
On a mission to transport goods back to the colony.
You were stuck in no-ant's land.
You had no idea.

I picked up a quarter.
I wanted to play--
No thought of anything else at the time.
I was bored.

Idol hands cause destruction.

Instructions of the devil's plans in our palms.

You died.
I cried.

Thinking of the metaphor,
Of us being gods to insects.

But realizing,
God would never do this.

shalom.

My Oh My Week

The past week has left me feeling...
important.
Not like I control the world,
but like I have a part in this world.

---

Can I say this without sounding like a dope?
Leah is a better friend then I ever hoped to imagine.
I was in Pennsylvania getting all the guys dressed for Heath's wedding,
and, for a second, I look up and see Leah.
She was supposed to be Indiana working at a theater.
I didn't even think about it.
I just waved, like she wasn't ever gone.
I am very weird.
She is amazing.
(Okay, that is all I'll put you through.)

---

My brother is now married. That is strange. And, I have a new sister.
My cat is losing weight.
My halo skills are improving.
My tan is getting darker.
My interview at Sycamore went very well. Pray for me.
My room is almost organized.
My friends are getting married this Saturday.
My guitar is going to be played in about 5 minutes.

---

My life is getting good.
You are so jealous.

shalom.

I have a new sister!

Things I learned from a wedding:
1. It's more fun when you know most people there.
2. Toast speeches are better improvised.
3. Being best man is actual work, not just a glorified groomsman.
4. Taking shots with you uncle is a must.
5. Hoisting a small child on your shoulders improves your chances of not catching a garter.
6. Dance!


shalom.

The Bachelor, The Organ, and The Chair

I went camping with Heath, L.J., and Corey last night.
It was Heath's "bachelor party".
I thought I didn't know them that well,
but I had one of the greatest nights in a long time.

----


My mom threw away my organ.
She threw away my chair.
It's times like these,
When I'm never prepared.

---

shalom.

The After-taste of "Godspell"

Now listening to: Pedro the Lion

I just saw a musical theater production.
I liked it.
It was based on the Book of Matthew from the Bible.
It made me think about two things:

1. What kind of seed am I?

One trampled on a trail?
Have I let the devil demolish my heart?
One surrounded by weeds?
Have I comforted myself with pride, bitterness, money, or material stuff?
One planted in rocks?
Have I faded from the passionate follower of Jesus that I was before?

I need transplanted somehow.
If only my desire for love would turn into action.

2. What makes an actor genuine?

I understand this sounds very critical, but I couldn't help but think this as I watched a play based upon the Gospel of Matthew. Do actors just act? I would say, "no," but I could be wrong. I just assumed that you participated in things you support. It has to be somewhat true because lots of people won't star in pornography, because they feel it's ethically wrong. Maybe I'm too much of an extremist, but I think that people should only act in something they believe in. I don't know. It comes to that whole thing about making money versus actually doing what you feel passionate about.

Sorry, I just realized I might be getting in something deeper than I can dig.
I'm just wondering if an actor chooses what he/she wants to star in, or just does whatever can get more experience under the belt or more money in the wallet.

Shalom.

Cops, Money, and the American Heart.

Now listening to: Wolf Parade

I am in Bloomfield.
Can I say that I don't like cops?
It's not even like I've been arrested.
And, It's not even like I'm a minority.
But, cops harass me 90% of the time I come in contact.
I imagine it could be the way I look,
but really I have no idea.
And, I don't really have any right to complain
when I'm not racially profiled as bad as most people of minority races are.
But, I just don't like cops.
I had a cop follow me last night for five minutes and three turns before pulling me over.
He said I was speeding.
I promise you, I had not been speeding.
That's just a sliver of the crap other human beings with different skin color have to deal with.
I understand that they have "good intentions",
but they also have to make money.
Money wins over the American heart.
So, it's not just the cops, the greyhound bus driver, the lady at the DMV, or the receptionist at the welfare office that are jerks.
We're jerks too.
We just get paid to be jerks about something else.
We don't have to.
We do, though, because we assume that we will not be able to pay our bills, buy our food, or rent a movie if we don't do exactly as they say.
It's not true.
But, we make ourselves believe it is so.

"It's getting old,
it goes on,
but it's old..."

shalom.

Getting Life Together/ Having Friends

It's weird coming back to the town where most of my friends are located
because I feel like I just want to be by myself.
I know that sounds bad.
I don't know why I am that way sometimes.
It might be because whenever it comes to getting my life together,
it seems like it's one of those things I have to do on my own.
(Which isn't right to say, but I had to leave Anderson before because I couldn't rely on my friends to keep me alive.)
And, I don't have them together yet, so maybe I'm just waiting until I can be a friend instead of someone who needs something from others (which I am, but it definitely feels better to pretend like I don't need charity).
I'm not saying I got sick because of my friends' carelessness.
It's not their fault. I didn't let them know enough about my condition.
I know I'm not correct for feeling this way,
but I'm just being honest to why I've been an absent friend.

I really do love my friends here.
But, I am weird.

hmmm...

yep.

shalom.

I like slushies, skateboarding, frisbee, and random walks.


shalom.

I hallucinated from a lack of sleep last night.
I saw a man standing in the middle of the highway.
Good thing he disappeared before I tried to swerve.
Because I would have been killed by a man I made up in my mind,
which I heard, "is never fun."


shalom.

Being Dropped.

Now listening to: D-Sides by Gorillaz

The first thing I can remember is seeing the sun for a split-second.
How beautiful it was, yet how much it hurt.

I can't really remember my birth.

Some believe we all came from the clouds.

Some say we came from others like us.
Some speculate that we existed before that;
In a world fully fluid and of limitless motion.

I don't really know what I think.
All I know is that we go through this life.

Some before you.
Some after.
Some by your side.

Then something happens.

Some name it, "death."
Some call it, "moving on."
Some don't speak of it.

My one friend said that he heard,
Through a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of his,
That when it's about to end,
A new reality reigns down.
Like you can see, hear, smell, and feel for the first time.

Some think that all blue and white disappear behind you,
And you see colors you've never seen.
Some say a deafening din surrounds your ears.
Some believe your body becomes heavy and crushes itself.
And,
At the last second,
You shatter into thousands of pieces.

I think there's something more;
That we are all gravitating to whatever it is.
Maybe it is a tangible place.
Maybe it is only in our minds.
Either way, it exists.

Maybe the only way we can get there,
Is by being dropped from the heavens,
And falling through this life.
Gaining momentum every second,
because our natural selves long for their home,
More and more the closer we get.
Then, with enough speed,
We shatter.
Loosing all of the things we don't need any more;
Sacrificing our whole selves,
For the greater good of a reality,
That we can't even witness in these few minutes of life.


shalom.

P.S. Ya get it?

It's about being a rain drop.

Away

I want to be somewhere.
A place without familiarity.
Without faces that look like faces I've seen before.
Lacking any location in my memory.
Only found on a map.
Utterly new and awkward.
Discomfort is comfort.

shalom.

What I Need

now listening to: Matisyahu

I need to see God in people more.

I need to stop staring at the wrong in others.

I need to see God in myself more.

I need to stop hating everything about me.

I need to pray more than not at all.

I need to speak up more when I know I'm right.

I need to show the importance of people more.

I need to find a way to drive to Indiana.

I need to show the unimportance of money more.

I need to stop being spoiled.

I need to tell people to be quiet more.

I need to be where I am more.

I need to start running.

I need to write a song.

I need to be hugged more.

I need love more than I'll ever know.

I need to hug more.

I need life more than I'll ever know.

I need to show how wretched hate is.

I need friends more than I'll ever know.

I need to show how wretched apathy is.

I need family more than I'll ever know.

I need to brush my teeth more.

I need God more than I'll ever know.

I need to make a phone call.

I need to stop focusing on what I need to do
and simply start living what I believe to be right.

I need...

shalom.

P.S. What do you need to do?

Condiments, Not Compliments

I hate compliments.

But,

I love condiments.








shalom.







p.s. Two words: Spicy Ranch.

The Thrill of Hitting the Ground

Now listening to: The Streets

When I was little I jumped off of tall objects.
Off our porch banister, the roof of the house, the metal slide on the playground, the branches on the top half of the tree, the swing at it's pinnacle.
I knew I couldn't fly.
I remember thinking when I was five years old, "..but, maybe I can glide a little..."
I sprained my ankle.
I kept jumping.
I knew I would fall and hit the ground violently.
The fascination was the power of my own weight.
Hitting the ground so hard, I could feel the ground shake under me.
I came from outer space and re-entered the earth's atmosphere,
only to crash upon the ground at maximum velocity-- trying to throw the planet out of orbit.
Now, my right knee hurts when I bend it.
Was it worth it?
Yep.

shalom.

It looks like a new outfit.

Now listening to: Dangerdoom

new pants.
new shoes.
new shirt.
dirty underwear.

shalom.

Choices, Love, Hate, and a Smack Right in the Face.

Now listening to: Small Leaks Sink Ships

I've come to a conclusion:
You can't change people.
If they truly want to change, they will change.
If they don't want to change, they will not change.
It is not my ability or duty to make someone do one or the other.
It is only my ability and duty to love someone,
when they make the right choices,
or even when they make the wrong choices.
Love is the answer.
Love does not make someone choose.

I understand this.

So, why am I so pissed off when my friend(s) don't do the right thing?

There's some quotes that come to mind that help me put things into perspective:

"There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people... ever imagine that they are guilty themselves. I have heard people admit that they are bad-tempered, or that they cannot keep their heads about girls or drink, or even that they are cowards... And at the same time I have very seldom met anyone... who showed the slightest mercy to it in others. There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves. And the more we have it ourselves, the more we dislike it in others."
-- From "The Great Sin" Out of Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis



The things I hate in others are, in fact, are the things I see in myself that I hate.

dang it.

shalom.

p.s. I took out the parts of the quote about how Christians don't fall into this subconscious trap, because, honestly, I think that Christians make this mistake as well as anybody else. Sorry if that seems to take it out of context, but I don't worship every word he writes, but I do like a lot of his points made. If you would like to read the whole writing I took snippets from, you can go here.

My Pockets

I have five pockets.
I use two for my hands, so I don't feel as awkward or as fat around strangers.
I use one for change, but change hasn't come along for a long time.
I use one for plastic cards that seem important, yet I don't feel important.
I don't use the last one. I wonder it's holding-capabilities. It's too tiny.



shalom.

Hypocrisy

I wish greatly to see Jesus around me.

I realize, though, that it doesn't mean anything to say I wish that,
because I don't strive to do it. It is a contradiction of words and actions.

I am a walking hypocrisy.

Will I change?
I hope.


Shalom.

Running Away's Metaphor

Now listening to: Pedro the Lion

Now was the time that we had to take.
Then we started hiding,
Like refugees who flinch at the sky.
A paradox.
The sky is the limit.
No.
The sky is the fear.
We let a thing so glorious and beautiful
Scare us underground.
Building our hell.
Trying to remember what the sun feels like on our skin.
Thinking of what the dirty taste of rain is like.
Turning the soil below us.
Never looking up.
Deeper down we go.
Pure safety is almost at hand.
Yet, digging one's own grave
Was never as fun as the popular kids made it sound.

And, if we've dug long enough,

We can't remember which way is up.

Feelings of being stuck and lost are reasonable.

Not getting the hell out of our lives we hate,
Not getting our lives out of this hell we've made cozy,
Not recalling what the sky looks like,
Not asking others how they remember the perfect overhead,

is the hugest mistake we make.

We are the lonely.
We are the depressed.
We are the scared.
We are the worried.
We are the abused.
We are the insulted.
We are the hated.
We are the hateful.
We are the starved.
We are the self-centered.
We are the hurt.
We are the imperfect.

We are the people

time has waited for.

But, if we don't have hope,

No one shall.

If we don't stop digging to safety,

the world shall collapse.

Shalom.

No Juices

I have many shoes.
They help me walk without pain,
And give me support.

I have many faces.
They help me hide from myself,
And give confidence.

I have many friends.
They help me realize how cool
It is to be me.

I have some problems.
They help me humble myself.
Time and time again.

I have a raincoat.
But it is not waterproof.
I'm wet when it rains.

I have no juices.
So, I am writing badly.
It is not helping.

shalom.

I'm afraid I will lose my faith

from: www.explodingdog.com

shalom.

A Small Description of My Life in the Past Day

Now listening to: I just went to pandora.com and typed in "The Avett Brothers, Owen, and William Fitzsimmons"

Hello fellow mellow yellow,

I don't know what to take from any of this life that I experience and label "life" anymore. I used to fear that I may become crazy one day, but now I think that I don't have to worry about that happening.
I'm already crazy. That might be an exaggeration, but I do think I'm slightly suffering from frailty of the brain.

---
Intermission
---

I went to the diner with some friends this Sunday. It was the first time I felt like I had returned to the Mercy House (the church I attend in Indiana). I don't even know how to explain why. I spent time with everyone who was present at the diner long before Sunday, but for some reason when these six people sat at a table with me yesterday, I felt the Mercy House. Maybe I didn't feel the Mercy House. Maybe I felt a part of a church that I needed to be in. I wish I could iterate it more completely, but it's hard to iterate feelings. Feelings aren't thoughts. Feelings aren't words. At least, I think so.

---

While I was reading blogs today, I realized that each blog fell into one of three categories: 1. Writing to show one's honest self; 2. Writing to teach some grand point; 3. Writing in attempt to practice writing moving pieces.
I'm not saying one is better than the others. This isn't even an argument. I read blogs because those three categories are something I love to witness in friends and in strangers. I thought blogging was very dumb for a long time, but I don't think it's such a bad idea that everyone has a chance to express what they are thinking. I love the fact that it seems impossible to make a blog that has some other motive. (Well, I guess someone could have a blog that is ridiculous and funny without any point, but I will not add those-we-don't-speak-of to the three categories because I don't like that kind of reading. And, since I have the power to write whatever I wish, I will say that those aren't really blogs anyways. Ha! You can't stop me!)

---

I haven't been able to think about the future in any sense until yesterday. I don't know if it was because I took some of my friend's St. John's Wart, or if it was because another friend told me about an awesome job opportunity, or if it was because someone with a planning-mind showed me the glory of thinking ahead, or if it was a combination of all three, or if it was something entirely different.

---

shalom.

Brains

We all want to figure something out in life.
The thing is, for most people I know, we don't need to figure anything out.
We need to just do what we understand.
Which can be very easy,
but our brains seem very hard to do.

dang brains.

shalom.

?

Last night I had a dream that my friend killed my brother.
I was crying.
I didn't like that dream.

---

Last night I had a feeling that I couldn't explain.
Leah asked me if I was angry? No.
Sad? No.
Disappointed? Frustrated? No. No.
So, I described the situation exactly as it happened and how I got to this feeling.
Then, I started feeling it again.
And, still couldn't label it.
My brain is too weird, even for me, sometimes.

---

Yesterday was Mother's Day.
I'm glad I have my Mother.

---

I learned that I have the gift of not fighting with someone about packing and moving.
Apparently, it's a big deal.
I don't think so.

---

Two Mice Made of Straw.
The first one tumbling down.
Walkin would be proud.
---

Three snakes on a hill.
With no legs become hungry.
Wait for food to come.
-
Four rabbits with homes.
Go on a journey somewhere.
Coming back with scars.
-
Five dogs asleep now.
Woken by scurries of pests.
Alert the humans.
-
Six humans dreaming.
Of the things they could have been.
The dogs wake them up.
-
okay, that is all.

shalom.

Our Stimulus Soaked Society

It's bizarre to see the kids accumulating upon the Anderson campus.
They're so young, or at least so I thought.
Someone told me that next year the freshmen class in America will be mostly people born in the 90's. How crazy is that? I feel old.
Should I warn them?
Should I tell them that they may never use their "degree"?
Should I yell, "Turn around and run!"?
Should I just let happen what may happen?
V for Vendetta is probably one of the greatest movies ever. It's a little violent, but has one of the most inspirational messages that a movie can have.
I watched it at 4:30 a.m. and felt like I needed to change the world instead of sleep.
We see all of these great movies, read all of these great books, listen to all of this great music, yet...
not much more ever comes out of it.
I can't help but think of the quote in the Bible about how if you hear a great message of truth/love, that you should follow suit in your life and take action-- Giving yourself a foundation of stone-- rather than just listening and doing nothing-- Giving yourself a foundation of sand.
Whether it be an under-breath comment made by a sarcastic friend, an awesome track on a CD, or an impressive speech made in front of thousands of people.
Most (not all) things have some sort of truth in them, which means most things have something to learn from them, which means we have an action to make or a way of thinking to adhere to ourselves from them, which means our lives should look different before and after anything with truth in it comes into contact with us.
Sorry.
I just realized that in this over-stimulating time, watching movies, reading books and listening to music is not always a bad thing (but can be excessive like anything else), but are things that we should actually use to better our minds, hearts, and lives.
If we don't, though, we are truly wasting our lives.
I'm sick of wasting this life.

Shalom.

I had a dream.
It made no sense to me.
We all had super powers.
Yet, we still got speeding tickets

shalom.

Alive

Now listening to: John Butler

Something happened to turn this vacation stumbled itself into purposeful trip.
Was it the step I took? Did I change my own perspective?
Was it the fall I had? Did I realize how much of this life I have made has been crap?
Was it the ankle placed under me? Did my friends help me realize that I needed to change through their passion, love, and even their sadness?

My face hit the pavement.
I saw the ground approaching closer.
Yet, I just let go and fell.
I thought, "What's the point of fighting?"
Then,
I woke up the next morning with the pain still there,
But I also was prompted with the question:
"What was I expecting? A facial massage?"

I think a lot of us want to realize the pain we're in and want to feel bad for ourselves.
We don't want what's really at hand--
The fact that we are the ones with the huge imperfections.
We reach out and grab others, saying, "Look at what the world has done to me!!!"
We lift our hands and point, saying, "Why are they doing this to me?!?!"

I'm sick of being this kind of person.
I have no time to show everyone the speck in their eye,
while their is a two by four in my eye.

For the first time ever, I've realized that love is not about fixing.
It's about loving.
Why do I worry about the mistakes of others, when I don't face my own?
If I learn more about the ones around me, wouldn't I love them more instead of worrying about them not making mistakes?
Actions of others do tend to send messages.
But, that message is: "Please, Help Me."
It is not: "Please, make me feel like shit."

So, I'm sorry if I've ever "called" you out and it wasn't out of love,
but just an attack to make myself feel like I was a better person than you.
And, I'm sorry if I've just judged your actions without actually finding out what hurt and without trying to just be there for you.

shalom.

Awkward...

I've felt awkward for the past 4 days.
I don't understand.
Then, I think about it more, and guess what.
That's right, more awkwardness.
It sucks "catching up" with people who are close to you, yet you have nothing "big" (I hate when people say, "Well, what BIG things have been going on?") to say.
I practically did nothing for the past month and a half of my life except fix a gas leak on a car.
But, I'm not really mad at them.
I'm mad at myself.
For not having a life with cool, interesting stories to tell from it.
Shalom.

Here I Go!

In 8 hours i will be attempting to drive to indiana.

Wish me luck.

I shall need it.

I may or may not be able to write much.

We'll see... or we won't see.

I don't know.

I can't predict the future,

So, just lay off.

Okay?

SHaloM.

Heads of Stone. Bodies of Dirt.

Now listening to: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

I read great things and I hear great stories and I watch great people live.
My "soul" is ignited, but apparently the flame does not catch and I find myself complaining about how I'm sick all of the time and how I owe money to a lot of people and how I'm stuck.
I'm approaching a departure for Indiana.
I predict smokey diners with friends in booths.
I predict anger at the way it is and how it should be done.
I predict me thinking what is "it" anyway?
I predict me thinking, "We're all so full of dirt."
With heads of stone sinking down into our bodies of dirt.
Our bodies crumbling across the sands we stand upon.
The sand giving way to the waters around.
The water evaporating to the clouds above.
The cloud ripping apart by the winds traveling through.
The wind halting to the mountains in ahead.
The mountain crumbling under the weight of the stones composing it's body.
The stone falling onto a small pile of dirt.
It is a process.
Beautiful and Ugly.
It is only prevented when we take our glorious heads of stone
and replace them with the dirt we are actually made of.
Then, we can realize the sand we stand on before it gives way.

Shalom.

"Now is the greatest time for exaggeration for all of humanity in the history of the planet earth." -- paraphrase of some comedian

"God didn't do this. We did this." -- I Am Legend

Slept

now listening to: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill


I slept 30 of the past 36 past hours.
I feel like I got enough sleep for the first time in years.

shalom.

Clay

I get reactively pissed off whenever I find out someone is rich or has/had it easy when it comes to financial situations.
It's like for a immeasurable moment,
I hate them.
It's not like I wish I had it like them.
I just wish they didn't have it.
That's wrong.
I know.
I just figure I should be honest and open with my imperfections instead of trying to be a martyr or creative or funny or egotistical.
Plus, I need to stand back sometimes and look at this lop-sided and far-from-perfect life slouching on the wheel.

Batter, bruise, and mold the clay I call my spirit a little more...

shalom.

Leak

After working
more than 20 hours
on the car's gas line,
i went to start it.
Gas still leaked.
i didn't get mad, though.
That's a surprise.
But, it still isn't fixed.
And, I'm getting sick.
So, I slept 18 hours.

Shalom.

God Doesn't Make People Choose. Why should we?

Now listening to: Weinland

I went to a "private", "christian" college. By that, I mean I went to an expensive, judgemental college. We were influenced to be passionate about anything as long as you could fit in one or more of the following words: "Jesus", "God", "Bible", "Heart", or "Gospel". I do not think that any of these words are bad to use. I just think they're misused. Instead of trying to portray what truth and love are supposed to look like while being honest about how we may be wrong, we sometimes just get "passionate" about something (i.e. community living, recycling, epidemics, poverty, etc.) and just start throwing out these words or quotes of the Bible in order to persuade ourselves or others.

Sorry.
I think I just thought of this because I saw a flyer in a church pamphlet that said Christians should sign some petition so that homosexuals can't get married. I do have a view point on homosexuality. I just don't think that it has anything to do with whether two people of the same sex choose to commit themselves to each other. And, I just don't think that prohibiting someone from making a choice isn't really freedom and isn't really love. God lets us have the choice to do whatever we want. He lets us choose Him. He does not make us do the right thing. He does not make us do the wrong thing. He lets us live and choose and search for Him.
With such a fear of homosexuality, most Christians are demonstrating a support to lack faith in God and the powerful love He has.

shalom.

Writing More... ?

We have the mistake of thinking

that writing has to be a certain way,

when this is clearly not so

because anyone literate

with access to the Internet

can write a web log.

I notice that many friends

who write things

on a website write rarely.

I even do it a lot of the time.

And, I understand that some

of us just don't think to do it

most of the time.

But, I honestly think

sometimes that

I shouldn't waste my time

and other's time

when I sign in and look at the

blank post on my monitor.

What do I have to say?

What do people want to hear?

Those are reasonable things to think,

but I don't think

always asking

ourselves these questions

helps anyone.

We don't get anything out of it

for writing it

and others can tell

when a friend

is not sharing who they actually are.

Writing is ingrained into us.

It should be natural and not judged upon

for "errors" or

whatever they may be called.

It's hard to say,

"You said what you're thinking wrong,"

unless you're not really listening.

It's more important just to ask

what someone meant

by what they wrote.

Well, I'm not

that intelligent and

I didn't think any of this

by my own thought process.

I read it in a tiny book

about writing as second-nature.

I forget what it's called,

but I'll find it and put it on the side bar.

Maybe a little realization

of people appreciating my blog

(for what reason, who knows)

helped my mind also.

Anyways, my point is:

All of you that write

on your blogs

please write more!

I love reading whatever it is you express,

especially when it's about an honest portrayal

of your thoughts and emotions.

It makes me smile.

And for someone who is depressed a lot of the time,

not making me smile is a pretty messed up thing

to do to someone in my circumstances.

shalom.

Now listening to: Lovedrug

Oh, like the salt of the earth

Each correction makes us stronger.

Absconder in happiness...

I remember days of glory, of passion, of purpose.
Ironically enough, I was dumb, blind, a coward.
With time, I became "wiser".
Information oozing into my scalp,
experience squeezing under my belt,
and love penetrating my heart.
With time, wisdom clouded and surrounded me like a storm.
I thought so much about things without taking any action to unleash those secret passions consisting of ideas that are not logical or realistic.
With time, many mistakes occured and pain resided. Mostly of my own accord.
I dwelled in them like a cave sinking to the bottom corner of the earth;
giving myself the ultimate time-out.
I let my ugly imperfections of myself and the horrible pain of the world soak into my outlook of what it means to love God and love people.
Am I worse off the mark than I was before?
I surely think so.
And, I am sorry, so sorry for my own sake and for those I have hurt.
Does a loving God still want this life to use?
I think the answer is, "yes".
I have the belief that there is a perfect love, grace, and purpose trying to be in my life. And I think that perfectness would want to have this life to use. I say that because I am very imperfect (huge understatement) and I wouldn't want me, so something perfect would want this mess, right? Right.
Where do I begin?
Almost 60,000 dollars of debt, a permanent disease, and a trail of disasterous mistakes to heave along..
This is not easy, but who ever said that it would be?

Suck it up.

Dry your tears.

"I’ll lift you up,"

Says the angel here...

shalom.
(I hope)

i'm just so sick and tired...

Thoughts of June In April

Enduring the God-awful autumn.
Waiting for winter to wither away.
Today is the day.
The backyard blazes through the blinds.
The patio glass slid ever so and the window wide open.
I am no longer a domesticated lazy, dormant cat.
Litter box, bother me no more.
A deep dish of delicious dinner does not deserve my desperation.
I am an animal with atrocious attributes.
Ferocious feline with supernatural senses.

The beautiful breeze brings smells so sensual they smother my nostrils nerve endings.
It turns into a terrific taste on my tongue.
Something is stirring my soul.
Ancient and aching.
Thorough and thirsty.
Lacking mercy. Lusting murder.
It whispers past my whiskers and in my inner ear.
Telling me to take action.

I thrust powerfully through the peaceful prison I call "home".
A surging spring to the sill shows an astounding spectacle.
Creatures with wings, unaware of my intentions.
Claws clenching, tail twitching, respiration reserved.

Blood shall be spilt tonight.

At least, once this silly screen is shoved slightly to the left.

shalom.

now listening to: The Avett Brothers
p.s. If you haven't figured this out already,
June is the name of my cat.

I've been

Now listening to: City and Colour

Sleeping more and more each day.
I've been less awake.
Dreaming of obscure possibilities.
I've been less aware.
Keeping all things inside my eyelids.
I've been less alive.
Putting everything off until later.
I've been less active.
Climbing nothing but frustration.
I've been less avid.
Looking at the emptiness in my hands.
I've been less answered.
Reacting to the conditions of my condition.
I've been less anticipating.

Yet, having less reason to have hope.
I've been more hopeful.

shalom.