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.

Breaking Up With Hairy

I can't believe...
you're actually thinking about this.
We have been friends for years.
I don't see what I did wrong. I make you look good.
Why don't you get rid of the real problem-
your ears?
I make you look manly and mature.
I help repulse high school girls,
And reduce the frequency of people calling you 'queer'.
Okay, maybe I've not been fully there,
Since I don't have the capability
of being a full-grown beard.
But, please don't do this.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Can't you see I'm being sincere?
No! No! No! Stop!
I beg you to at least re-think this with me
over an ice-cold beer.
You're really doing this?!? Whatever.
I don't want to see your face again.
Consider me out of your life. Disappeared.
I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry.
Just pull me out of the trash,
Get some glue and have me adhered--
Okay, you're right.
Yeah, I know it's too late for that,
but if you ever need me again, I'll be right here.
Under you skin,
waiting to hold up your chin,
and catch every, single tear.
Do me favor?
and tell mustache and the eye brows,
that this was mutual and we're...
we're still friends?
And that I'll come visit?
And that they have nothing to fear?
Have a nice life.
I'm sorry it had to be this way.
Enjoy you're new chin that's facial-hair clear.

p.s. You look like a girl now.
and you'll come running back to me
once you show all your peers.



Shalom.