This has been one helluva crazy week. Monday meant Heroes, which was brilliant as always, but which also included Joe berating me for not calling him to hang out more often. Mike pretty much told Joe straight up that the reason why so many of his friends have been ignoring him is because he is "mean" and "a dick." Okay... true, but awkward. I simply pointed out the fact that I've been busy like a mad honk mah-fah lately... also very, very true.
Tuesday night, I ended up going over to see Mom after work. The purpose for the occasion was a lesson in balancing my finances (mom does this for a living, I wanted to make some changes, so it made sense to discuss this with her), and we did do that. Of course, though, Mom wanted to talk growing up and relationships and my current state of mind, just checking up on all three. It was a nice time - i didn't expect less, either. I love Mom and get along splendidly with her. Still, I had to pick something up to eat on the way home 'cause it was too late to cook and eat. I'm trying not to eat out, and trying not to eat late. Double fail on Tuesday night then. Monday, too.
And... Wednesday, too. We got free tix to the Pacers game last night. I felt guilty for not wanting to go. Yeah... like 4 people from work showed up. Sad. But I did have a good time. Only issue was, I didn't eat before I went (nor did I exercise at work, either). I have been bad this week. Didn't exercise last night, haven't brought my lunch all week, even though it's prepared at home. I just keep forgetting it.
If this damn day every ends (work-wise), i can go lift and run and do my fun little exercise stuff. And then Cory is coming up. Which means we are probably going to go grab a bite to eat.
Epic Fail. I am epic fail.
There are about a hundred things going down this week, and a hundred more every week this month. Which is both good and band, because the winter is when I feel the most lonely, on average. It's like, summer is for horny people, winter is for lonely people, and hey, I can be both! No worries, though, things are good, if a little too busy. We take what we can get.
My mind is at ease, and it's also not changing about much. Not sure what that says about me. Not sure I care. Listening to Sublime right now to close out my day at work, as it is, looking forward to this evening, so it's all good.
10.09.2008
10.06.2008
Memories Like Fingerprints
It never ceases to amaze me what little things can do to make me feel. I have never denied that I am a mercurial individual. Lately things have been great, steady and charging forward with life. I have dealt with a lot of stuff lately, internal and external, and feel like I am emerging from the crucible of my own doing to become a better person.
Regardless, I do still hurt and can still be lonely. Yesterday, I sat down to look for a couple of songs I had written a long time ago. They were not where they were supposed to be – my songbook, which is a shambles of its once former glory – so I had to search through many a dump-pile, folder, and loose stack of papers in search of them. I never did find them, but I did come across so many songs I had written that I had forgotten about.
Putting aside for the moment how embarrassed I was at some of these songs – I have always felt my writing needs to take a quantum leap forward, and the juvenile nature of the lyrics I saw yesterday made me ill – I was reminded how often I wrote of loneliness, despair, broken love and broken relationships.
There were songs that I had written in some of the darkest periods of my life – just after my engagement was broken off, right after my grandmother died, the times after my girlfriend moved out of my house. The sad thing was the common thread that bound them all together.
I question everything, and blame everything on myself.
Making matters worse – ok, not worse, because I am not feeling bad or down, just odd, like I need to add something else to the crucible – I have been reading a book about Guided By Voices, a band from Dayton, Ohio. In it, at a certain point, the lead singer and creative force of the band is talking about growing up in a small town. He talks about how, growing up in a small time, people are expected to get married quickly, settle down, get a real job, have a family.
This of course is exactly what I wanted right after high school. I wanted to marry my high school sweetheart, both of us from tiny country towns. When I went to college and my world blew up, things changed a bit between her and I, but soon I had a new goal – get married to my college sweetheart, have jobs, have kids, have the house with the white picket fence. That dream ended, painfully, enough to fuck me up for a few years.
But my small town kid, small town dreams remained. So I met the woman that wound up being my last serious relationship. We fell in love. She moved in, all the way from Pennsylvania. My dreams seemed attainable again. I even took steps to make sure my heart and head were ready to take such a big, life-changing step. In the end, impatience, fear, financial strain, and a dozen other things added up to such a weight that we couldn’t sustain the relationship.
So, as I laid down to sleep last night, all these old songs were running through my head, and this story about small town relationships was running through my head, which lead me to have the most amazing, fucked-up and vivid dream I have had in a long time. Seriously, it was odd and very, very revealing – too much for the internet, that’s for sure. Suffice it to say, though, when I woke up I was in a Toad The Wet Sprocket mood. Listening to them right now, in fact.
As I pulled myself out of dream-world, and shook off the sleep, the questions, blame, and guilt began. For what has been a pretty good couple of weeks, even a pretty good month and year so far, it was kind of an odd feeling. It was amazing to me how the little things I had looked at yesterday had elicited such a strong reaction.
I know I doubt myself far too much. When it comes to relationships, I tend to blame myself for every failure and every mistake. But that is not the way it really is. Everything is a two way street – friendships, romances, even the relationships we have with our parents. The good times, the bad times, they are all what we make them and what we make of them, together.
When I look at my life, now, I see that life is what I make it. My past is what I make it, too. My future, maybe that is what I make it. I hope so, I think so. It is so easy to lay blame to me, or to god, or to others. But it is much better to look at those things as lessons. If you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough, if you’re gonna fall down you gotta get back up – that’s the way the song goes.
My dreams, they haven’t all come true. My life hasn’t turned out the way I planned it. Sometimes I wonder why. But most of the time I see that as a blessing, albeit maybe a blessing in disguise. I could be bitter, resentful, and play the blame game and bring myself down. Or I could choose to see things in a different light. I mean… it sure has made for some good songs along the way.
I do still want my silly small town Midwestern dream. It’s part of what I know, part of who I am. It’s ok to want that and dream for it, too. And yes, I still think about past loves, I still miss them, I still get lonely. I still drink myself silly and make an ass out of myself some nights. And, still others, I sit down with a guitar and sing lonely lost songs about lonely lost loves, and I sing them to those lonely lost loves. And each song makes my voice – internal and external – all the more stronger.
This life… it’s worth walking through that crucible. It’s worth a little pain and a little regret. Because it comes with joy and goodness, happiness and highlights. The reward of life is getting to live it, and what comes with it each and every day, and all the things you get to see, experience, and feel, from day one until the last day.
Besides, I’d rather be a cryin’ little pussy than a faggy goth kid, any day.
Regardless, I do still hurt and can still be lonely. Yesterday, I sat down to look for a couple of songs I had written a long time ago. They were not where they were supposed to be – my songbook, which is a shambles of its once former glory – so I had to search through many a dump-pile, folder, and loose stack of papers in search of them. I never did find them, but I did come across so many songs I had written that I had forgotten about.
Putting aside for the moment how embarrassed I was at some of these songs – I have always felt my writing needs to take a quantum leap forward, and the juvenile nature of the lyrics I saw yesterday made me ill – I was reminded how often I wrote of loneliness, despair, broken love and broken relationships.
There were songs that I had written in some of the darkest periods of my life – just after my engagement was broken off, right after my grandmother died, the times after my girlfriend moved out of my house. The sad thing was the common thread that bound them all together.
I question everything, and blame everything on myself.
Making matters worse – ok, not worse, because I am not feeling bad or down, just odd, like I need to add something else to the crucible – I have been reading a book about Guided By Voices, a band from Dayton, Ohio. In it, at a certain point, the lead singer and creative force of the band is talking about growing up in a small town. He talks about how, growing up in a small time, people are expected to get married quickly, settle down, get a real job, have a family.
This of course is exactly what I wanted right after high school. I wanted to marry my high school sweetheart, both of us from tiny country towns. When I went to college and my world blew up, things changed a bit between her and I, but soon I had a new goal – get married to my college sweetheart, have jobs, have kids, have the house with the white picket fence. That dream ended, painfully, enough to fuck me up for a few years.
But my small town kid, small town dreams remained. So I met the woman that wound up being my last serious relationship. We fell in love. She moved in, all the way from Pennsylvania. My dreams seemed attainable again. I even took steps to make sure my heart and head were ready to take such a big, life-changing step. In the end, impatience, fear, financial strain, and a dozen other things added up to such a weight that we couldn’t sustain the relationship.
So, as I laid down to sleep last night, all these old songs were running through my head, and this story about small town relationships was running through my head, which lead me to have the most amazing, fucked-up and vivid dream I have had in a long time. Seriously, it was odd and very, very revealing – too much for the internet, that’s for sure. Suffice it to say, though, when I woke up I was in a Toad The Wet Sprocket mood. Listening to them right now, in fact.
As I pulled myself out of dream-world, and shook off the sleep, the questions, blame, and guilt began. For what has been a pretty good couple of weeks, even a pretty good month and year so far, it was kind of an odd feeling. It was amazing to me how the little things I had looked at yesterday had elicited such a strong reaction.
I know I doubt myself far too much. When it comes to relationships, I tend to blame myself for every failure and every mistake. But that is not the way it really is. Everything is a two way street – friendships, romances, even the relationships we have with our parents. The good times, the bad times, they are all what we make them and what we make of them, together.
When I look at my life, now, I see that life is what I make it. My past is what I make it, too. My future, maybe that is what I make it. I hope so, I think so. It is so easy to lay blame to me, or to god, or to others. But it is much better to look at those things as lessons. If you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough, if you’re gonna fall down you gotta get back up – that’s the way the song goes.
My dreams, they haven’t all come true. My life hasn’t turned out the way I planned it. Sometimes I wonder why. But most of the time I see that as a blessing, albeit maybe a blessing in disguise. I could be bitter, resentful, and play the blame game and bring myself down. Or I could choose to see things in a different light. I mean… it sure has made for some good songs along the way.
I do still want my silly small town Midwestern dream. It’s part of what I know, part of who I am. It’s ok to want that and dream for it, too. And yes, I still think about past loves, I still miss them, I still get lonely. I still drink myself silly and make an ass out of myself some nights. And, still others, I sit down with a guitar and sing lonely lost songs about lonely lost loves, and I sing them to those lonely lost loves. And each song makes my voice – internal and external – all the more stronger.
This life… it’s worth walking through that crucible. It’s worth a little pain and a little regret. Because it comes with joy and goodness, happiness and highlights. The reward of life is getting to live it, and what comes with it each and every day, and all the things you get to see, experience, and feel, from day one until the last day.
Besides, I’d rather be a cryin’ little pussy than a faggy goth kid, any day.
9.30.2008
Reaches for her, and the water turns to red hot... won't be long to be burned, burned again.
It has always been a little rough to be a heart-first individual, and... many times, I just don't cut it. Sometimes my heart gets the best of me.
Other times, though... I don't let it get the best of me. Those are days when I choose to listen to my head, rather than my heart.
Oh, in the situation I am thinking of, I have listened to the heart before. And what it got me? Wasted time. And I've tasted a life wasted... I am never going back to that shit again.
No, sometimes some things that strike deep in are hearts are just like sirens of the deep... sirens that call us, and call us, and call us, only to lead us to our doom, to bring us into cold, freezing waters, raging out of control. We freeze or we drown or our heads get crashed upon the rocks.
Do I want something wild, uncaged, free, untamed? Absolutely. But tempered by time, maturity, and wisdom. It is one thing to be scared, cowardly, never taking the leap of faith. It is another to be brash, reckless, destructive with lust, love, vigor.
No, both of those paths lead to time wasted. Balance. Balance in all things.
Balance. Balance.
Like a mantra, like a river. That is the lesson I come away with when I look into the eyes of the siren.
It is easy to want to reach out. Just remember sometimes the water turns to red hot, and it burns. And the siren calls another sailor to her trap, and to his death.
Other times, though... I don't let it get the best of me. Those are days when I choose to listen to my head, rather than my heart.
Oh, in the situation I am thinking of, I have listened to the heart before. And what it got me? Wasted time. And I've tasted a life wasted... I am never going back to that shit again.
No, sometimes some things that strike deep in are hearts are just like sirens of the deep... sirens that call us, and call us, and call us, only to lead us to our doom, to bring us into cold, freezing waters, raging out of control. We freeze or we drown or our heads get crashed upon the rocks.
Do I want something wild, uncaged, free, untamed? Absolutely. But tempered by time, maturity, and wisdom. It is one thing to be scared, cowardly, never taking the leap of faith. It is another to be brash, reckless, destructive with lust, love, vigor.
No, both of those paths lead to time wasted. Balance. Balance in all things.
Balance. Balance.
Like a mantra, like a river. That is the lesson I come away with when I look into the eyes of the siren.
It is easy to want to reach out. Just remember sometimes the water turns to red hot, and it burns. And the siren calls another sailor to her trap, and to his death.
9.26.2008
Waits for a present something
So... things are... good. To a point. I couldn't put my finger on anyone thing that has been a BIG change. I'm exercising and eating more healthily than I have in a long time. I am trying to save money. I am working on relaxing, centering myself. Reading. Playing more music and less video games. Spending time thinking about big questions. Expecting less and less of God... by easing my expectations on him, perhaps he eases his expectations on me (somehow, this seems to work).
I am contented. I would like to flip out, especially with the emerging economic crisis. But, you know, we are fucked no matter what on that front, so... the best I can do right now is just try and save more, be more frugal with my money. So that is a goal.
But there aren't many things I could really change... because I am in such a state of flux right now... it's not change for the sake of change. It's forward motion.
I am finished (for now at least) with waiting on a present something. Even if these steps are baby steps, I am putting one foot in front of the other. Life is what happens while you are living it. So long as I can be healthy and have fun, why wait?
I am contented. I would like to flip out, especially with the emerging economic crisis. But, you know, we are fucked no matter what on that front, so... the best I can do right now is just try and save more, be more frugal with my money. So that is a goal.
But there aren't many things I could really change... because I am in such a state of flux right now... it's not change for the sake of change. It's forward motion.
I am finished (for now at least) with waiting on a present something. Even if these steps are baby steps, I am putting one foot in front of the other. Life is what happens while you are living it. So long as I can be healthy and have fun, why wait?
9.25.2008
God, what do you say?
So… the other night I had a dream that I want to relate. In the dream, there was a hero. He looked a bit like me. As I watched, I discovered the world he was in was our own, but in the future.
In the future… after the second coming, the apocalypse, Armageddon, the rapture, whatever you want to call it.
As I listened to him talk to a passerby or a companion, I know not which, he described what had happened. God had returned to our now (not the dream-world now, but this current day and age) to call his faithful home, and to judge and punish the wicked.
The unfortunate thing was that so many had lost faith in the one true God, and had worshipped so many things other than him – their own “Christian” religion among those idols they had raised up – that very few truly faithful people still existed. Many of these people immediately turned on God, spewing hatred and evil, while others held on to the beliefs they had always had, claiming this wasn’t the true God, not the one they believed in, but some imposter god. The other people, those who had been neutral or aligned differently in their religious outlooks in life… most of them stayed that way.
It was a dark time, but would only get worse. God decided to cleanse the world of what was left. This he had decided to do with an army of angels, that surely no human could withstand. What he hadn’t counted on was the spirit and fire of human will, not to mention the selfish, devious lengths any human would go to “win.” As such, most of the remaining people allied themselves with all manner of demons, devils, evil creatures and malevolent spirits.
The combined army of humans and devils was too much for God’s angelic army. The war raged on and on, destroying the natural beauty of the earth, leaving it nothing more than a wasteland. Eventually, the will of humanity won out… and God’s angel were all either killed or expunged from the earth.
The remaining people then began to war with their once demonic allies, for control of the either. God looked down, and sighed. Many humans remained that had tried to remain neutral, and still more were born of the wicked humans who turned away from evil ways.
The hero was one such child… a person born of evil but turned to goodness because of the amount of evil in the world. He was a crusader.
His words to his listener, this passerby or companion, were harsh, true, heartfelt.
“God is not dead,” he said. “God simply failed. He failed because he gave us power, the power of choice and the power of will. Maybe we both failed, God and us. He still exists, and he is still a being of love, and even now, he cares for his children, even the ones he failed to destroy.”
“We live in a new age, with no rules, with no Christ, with no boogey-men preachers that tell us how to live, with no book-thumpers who make us feel guilty for the choices we make. It is a world where survival of the fittest rules. It is a world of humanity for humanity’s sake. To be good is simply enough. To be evil is simply enough. To be neutral is enough. There are lines drawn in the sand.”
“Today is what we make it. Tomorrow is what we make it. It is my choice to walk this broken world, bringing hope to the broken, bringing justice to the wicked. I serve the true god, the god that failed, the god that wasn’t strong enough to protect and correct his own creation. But the old prophets disciples got one thing write. Christ was enough to teach us all that God does love us. So maybe he was our savior after all? Doesn’t matter now. What matters is what we do this day, what we do tomorrow, and that we try not to kill and curse everyone we cross in our path.”
“Maybe one day we’ll right our own wrongs. To hell with what anyone thinks. It’s time to live for the sake of living, to hold on to goodness.”
The hero turned to walk away. The passerby or companion raised a fist, and in this fist was a knife, and he lunged to stab the hero in the back.
The hero spun and shot the listener dead. He spat on the ground. He looked up to the red-black sky, the scorched sky, and then looked down at the scorched earth.
“It is my choice to walk this broken world, bringing hope to the broken, bringing justice to the wicked… bringing peace, love, and goodness to the deserving. I am broken and serve a broken god… but each step brings hope….”
The hero walked onward.
I woke up later, and wondered to myself… was this a dream, or reality?
Am I the hero, or the listener?
Am I dead, or truly alive?
Is this all dream, or reality? What wickedness controls our daily lives? Where is the hero with hope for the broken, is this, the most broken of ages?
Should I go back to sleep?
In the future… after the second coming, the apocalypse, Armageddon, the rapture, whatever you want to call it.
As I listened to him talk to a passerby or a companion, I know not which, he described what had happened. God had returned to our now (not the dream-world now, but this current day and age) to call his faithful home, and to judge and punish the wicked.
The unfortunate thing was that so many had lost faith in the one true God, and had worshipped so many things other than him – their own “Christian” religion among those idols they had raised up – that very few truly faithful people still existed. Many of these people immediately turned on God, spewing hatred and evil, while others held on to the beliefs they had always had, claiming this wasn’t the true God, not the one they believed in, but some imposter god. The other people, those who had been neutral or aligned differently in their religious outlooks in life… most of them stayed that way.
It was a dark time, but would only get worse. God decided to cleanse the world of what was left. This he had decided to do with an army of angels, that surely no human could withstand. What he hadn’t counted on was the spirit and fire of human will, not to mention the selfish, devious lengths any human would go to “win.” As such, most of the remaining people allied themselves with all manner of demons, devils, evil creatures and malevolent spirits.
The combined army of humans and devils was too much for God’s angelic army. The war raged on and on, destroying the natural beauty of the earth, leaving it nothing more than a wasteland. Eventually, the will of humanity won out… and God’s angel were all either killed or expunged from the earth.
The remaining people then began to war with their once demonic allies, for control of the either. God looked down, and sighed. Many humans remained that had tried to remain neutral, and still more were born of the wicked humans who turned away from evil ways.
The hero was one such child… a person born of evil but turned to goodness because of the amount of evil in the world. He was a crusader.
His words to his listener, this passerby or companion, were harsh, true, heartfelt.
“God is not dead,” he said. “God simply failed. He failed because he gave us power, the power of choice and the power of will. Maybe we both failed, God and us. He still exists, and he is still a being of love, and even now, he cares for his children, even the ones he failed to destroy.”
“We live in a new age, with no rules, with no Christ, with no boogey-men preachers that tell us how to live, with no book-thumpers who make us feel guilty for the choices we make. It is a world where survival of the fittest rules. It is a world of humanity for humanity’s sake. To be good is simply enough. To be evil is simply enough. To be neutral is enough. There are lines drawn in the sand.”
“Today is what we make it. Tomorrow is what we make it. It is my choice to walk this broken world, bringing hope to the broken, bringing justice to the wicked. I serve the true god, the god that failed, the god that wasn’t strong enough to protect and correct his own creation. But the old prophets disciples got one thing write. Christ was enough to teach us all that God does love us. So maybe he was our savior after all? Doesn’t matter now. What matters is what we do this day, what we do tomorrow, and that we try not to kill and curse everyone we cross in our path.”
“Maybe one day we’ll right our own wrongs. To hell with what anyone thinks. It’s time to live for the sake of living, to hold on to goodness.”
The hero turned to walk away. The passerby or companion raised a fist, and in this fist was a knife, and he lunged to stab the hero in the back.
The hero spun and shot the listener dead. He spat on the ground. He looked up to the red-black sky, the scorched sky, and then looked down at the scorched earth.
“It is my choice to walk this broken world, bringing hope to the broken, bringing justice to the wicked… bringing peace, love, and goodness to the deserving. I am broken and serve a broken god… but each step brings hope….”
The hero walked onward.
I woke up later, and wondered to myself… was this a dream, or reality?
Am I the hero, or the listener?
Am I dead, or truly alive?
Is this all dream, or reality? What wickedness controls our daily lives? Where is the hero with hope for the broken, is this, the most broken of ages?
Should I go back to sleep?
9.11.2008
Oh, and I listen to both sides of my head...
Today has been nothing short of surreal, at least in my heart and my head. I couldn't tell you why I feel so devestated today, but I know that I do. I tried explaining to a friend/co-worker, and he understood the sentiment, anyway... and had some good advice.
I do wonder if the heart of my issues, right now, is the same disease that I've been worried about so frequently, lately... a loss of faith. I just don't believe in anything anymore. God, love, faith, sex, music, people, healing... I don't believe in them.
And as bad as it sounds, it did all start with another girl, another heartbreak. Oh, this one was quick, for sure, and didn't hurt as bad as some. But that is part of the problem. It was like I went through 3 months of a relationship in 3 days.
A friend of mine calls me a man-whore. Only half in jest. I surf the internet, looking for something, anything, that'll spark my heart. I've tried not caring. I've tried just letting loose, being confident.
I wonder how many people can see how soulless I am?
There is a fight going on, but the part of me that is shouting, "you are good, you are worthy!," the part some would say is from God, telling me he loves me... is losing. I just don't give a damn about much of anything anymore... and even music is losing it's meaning. I can barely stand to play my guitar.
I wish I could cut out this cancer, whatever it is... but then again, I think I'd half to cut out most of me to kill the cancer.
This must be what growing old and losing hope feels like.
I do wonder if the heart of my issues, right now, is the same disease that I've been worried about so frequently, lately... a loss of faith. I just don't believe in anything anymore. God, love, faith, sex, music, people, healing... I don't believe in them.
And as bad as it sounds, it did all start with another girl, another heartbreak. Oh, this one was quick, for sure, and didn't hurt as bad as some. But that is part of the problem. It was like I went through 3 months of a relationship in 3 days.
A friend of mine calls me a man-whore. Only half in jest. I surf the internet, looking for something, anything, that'll spark my heart. I've tried not caring. I've tried just letting loose, being confident.
I wonder how many people can see how soulless I am?
There is a fight going on, but the part of me that is shouting, "you are good, you are worthy!," the part some would say is from God, telling me he loves me... is losing. I just don't give a damn about much of anything anymore... and even music is losing it's meaning. I can barely stand to play my guitar.
I wish I could cut out this cancer, whatever it is... but then again, I think I'd half to cut out most of me to kill the cancer.
This must be what growing old and losing hope feels like.
I will hold the candle, 'til it burns up my arm...
I am at war today. I need a break, badly, from anything and everything negative. I need to not be told how flawed I am. I know I am flawed, I've lived with it for damn near 28 years. I know I fall short.
Where did this come from? I am not sure I even believe in God anymore, and yet I have always believed in spirituality. It seems as if there is a war of good and evil raging in my soul. I want to tell all my friends off, I want to disappear, I want to start over, I want to be angry, I want to hate myself, and I want to blame me for all of it. At the same time... I want to apologize, I want to be good, to do good, to please God.
It's said that God doesn't punish us (any more, not New Testament, JC as savior Christianity), but that we punish ourselves, or that it's the work of some devil. I alternate between thinking God hates me and thinking he doesn't really exist.
There is a lot of love in my life. I try to constantly remind myself of that. I might not have all the kinds of love I want, but I do actually have most of the love I need. If, IF, God is love afterall, then maybe I can say he has provided some light through the darkness. And, truth be told, the darkness and the light... well, it all just depends on which direction I am facing.
I've got problems by the boatload, most of which a few friends have been hammering on lately, however unintentional or intentional that hammering may be. I have little to no money, and need money to do the things I want to do. I am lonely. I am tired. I feel unappreciated. I feel like I am walking on eggshells. I am paranoid. I am in debt. I am unhealthy.
But that is just looking in one diretion. I have a wonderful, loving family. I have some pretty great friends. I have a nice place to live, food to eat, clothes on my back (not that the necessities are good or bad - they're just essential; still it is nice to have them!). I am employed. I have a few fun hobbies.
The world doesn't come with rose-colored glasses. I take things hard, but life really is hard. And, while I feel unhinged, like the feelings inside me are being pushed there - by some kind of spiritual warfare, that good and evil are fighting within - I know it's not all me. I wish there was something more I could say. I have things good, but that still doesn't mean I need a break from getting kicked in the balls every damn day by friends, love, bills, finances, etc.
I still wouldn't mind a break. Really.
Where did this come from? I am not sure I even believe in God anymore, and yet I have always believed in spirituality. It seems as if there is a war of good and evil raging in my soul. I want to tell all my friends off, I want to disappear, I want to start over, I want to be angry, I want to hate myself, and I want to blame me for all of it. At the same time... I want to apologize, I want to be good, to do good, to please God.
It's said that God doesn't punish us (any more, not New Testament, JC as savior Christianity), but that we punish ourselves, or that it's the work of some devil. I alternate between thinking God hates me and thinking he doesn't really exist.
There is a lot of love in my life. I try to constantly remind myself of that. I might not have all the kinds of love I want, but I do actually have most of the love I need. If, IF, God is love afterall, then maybe I can say he has provided some light through the darkness. And, truth be told, the darkness and the light... well, it all just depends on which direction I am facing.
I've got problems by the boatload, most of which a few friends have been hammering on lately, however unintentional or intentional that hammering may be. I have little to no money, and need money to do the things I want to do. I am lonely. I am tired. I feel unappreciated. I feel like I am walking on eggshells. I am paranoid. I am in debt. I am unhealthy.
But that is just looking in one diretion. I have a wonderful, loving family. I have some pretty great friends. I have a nice place to live, food to eat, clothes on my back (not that the necessities are good or bad - they're just essential; still it is nice to have them!). I am employed. I have a few fun hobbies.
The world doesn't come with rose-colored glasses. I take things hard, but life really is hard. And, while I feel unhinged, like the feelings inside me are being pushed there - by some kind of spiritual warfare, that good and evil are fighting within - I know it's not all me. I wish there was something more I could say. I have things good, but that still doesn't mean I need a break from getting kicked in the balls every damn day by friends, love, bills, finances, etc.
I still wouldn't mind a break. Really.
I will walk with my hands bound...
Right now, I feel like my hands are bound. I can't even play a fucking video game without pissing someone else off. I mean, what the fuck? I do not want the world to revolve around me. I am sincerely trying to take a look at myself, and every day I am trying to take some time for personal reflection. The odd thing is, some of my friends have really thrown some hard curveballs my way, and I am apparently striking out left and right.
I am only human, only a man, only a normal, ordinary guy trying to find my way, right my ship, all that other bullshit cliche stuff I could write here.
I just want a fucking break. You know? Some fucking space where I am not a fuck-up in the eyes of someone, an asshole in the eyes of another, getting told how I missed something here or there, being held to some unholy fucking high standard that Jesus would fail trying to reach.
One friend. One friend who hasn't been stepping on my balls lately. Ok, two. Musicians both, they seem to be the only people I can find solace in at all, at least in my social circle. I feel my relationships with two of my closest friends (not those two) deteriorating rapidly, all because of standards and all else and whatever.
I was raised to respect other people, to not kick someone when they were down, and to keep to your word. I don't run off and chase trim and leave my friends high and dry... and I would never think about doing it, either. Not if I gave my word. And I did my best to not get angry, to bite my tongue, and it's all over now... and then someone else comes along and punches me in the balls.
I am in debt up to my neck. My career feels like it is getting nowhere. I ain't get older, skinnier, funnier, better-looking. I have worked so hard all my adult life to control my problems - to be less intense, to not give into anger, to be a selfless person, to love instead of hate.
And... today, I hate myself, and want to be angry just so I can find some fucking peace.
God, if this is what you meant by back breaking toil, I guess I must be a sinner, because I am really sick of all of this, and lately, it seems like it is all you keep giving me.
I am only human, only a man, only a normal, ordinary guy trying to find my way, right my ship, all that other bullshit cliche stuff I could write here.
I just want a fucking break. You know? Some fucking space where I am not a fuck-up in the eyes of someone, an asshole in the eyes of another, getting told how I missed something here or there, being held to some unholy fucking high standard that Jesus would fail trying to reach.
One friend. One friend who hasn't been stepping on my balls lately. Ok, two. Musicians both, they seem to be the only people I can find solace in at all, at least in my social circle. I feel my relationships with two of my closest friends (not those two) deteriorating rapidly, all because of standards and all else and whatever.
I was raised to respect other people, to not kick someone when they were down, and to keep to your word. I don't run off and chase trim and leave my friends high and dry... and I would never think about doing it, either. Not if I gave my word. And I did my best to not get angry, to bite my tongue, and it's all over now... and then someone else comes along and punches me in the balls.
I am in debt up to my neck. My career feels like it is getting nowhere. I ain't get older, skinnier, funnier, better-looking. I have worked so hard all my adult life to control my problems - to be less intense, to not give into anger, to be a selfless person, to love instead of hate.
And... today, I hate myself, and want to be angry just so I can find some fucking peace.
God, if this is what you meant by back breaking toil, I guess I must be a sinner, because I am really sick of all of this, and lately, it seems like it is all you keep giving me.
9.10.2008
All the love that she had was just wood that she burned...
So, in my normal routine, I am reading Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller, and, with a bit of time on my hands last night, I dived right through two and half chapters, waiting at an auto-place to pay $130 to replace my car battery.
One of the things that Miller makes it a point of saying is how broken humanity is. And you know, he's right. Highlighting that we can't change what's wrong with the world without recognizing that the problem is us... as in me, I am the problem. And you, you too are the problem... but this is my blog. You deal with you on your time, buddy.
Anyway... yeah, how selfish are we? CS Lewis wrote a poem that Miller highlights that contains this line: I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
Neither have I. Not really, but pretty much. I mean, how often do we do good things, not because it truly delights us to do something good for someone else, but because of the recognition we will get out of it?
As I am reading this book, and examining my own broken spirituality and broken Christianity and the mess that my heart/mind is in, I was thinking about how I have changed, and how I had changed. The thing is, though I may not feel "lead" by God, or driven by the spirit, or whatever jumped-up mumbo-jumbo voodoo that you want to claim is how it works... the thing is, despite my distance from that, I still think I do a halfway decent job of not being selfish all the time. I bend over backwards for people. Too many friends have told me that, sometimes, I just have to do what's right for me.
I've had relationships destroyed because I was bent until I broke, and left broken, feeling used. I get stressed and frustrated at work because I help and help, and sometimes no one helps me. I won't yell at my roommates when they don't pay their share of the bills on time, and I end up in the hole in the bank, or running out of money and having to live off of a credit card.
I'm not pointing out I can be selfless for recognition purposes. What I am saying is, it strikes me as odd that though I may not being the perfect model of Christianity (which I never would be anyway) and while currently my spirituality is pretty dead (that, then, is the part I truly worry about), I still apply the lessons of selflessness - ultimately, of love - throughout my life.
Love may be the wood that I burn up for myself, but at least I don't let it get all stacked up, moldy, bug ridden and wasted. Or something like that.
More on this later...
One of the things that Miller makes it a point of saying is how broken humanity is. And you know, he's right. Highlighting that we can't change what's wrong with the world without recognizing that the problem is us... as in me, I am the problem. And you, you too are the problem... but this is my blog. You deal with you on your time, buddy.
Anyway... yeah, how selfish are we? CS Lewis wrote a poem that Miller highlights that contains this line: I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
Neither have I. Not really, but pretty much. I mean, how often do we do good things, not because it truly delights us to do something good for someone else, but because of the recognition we will get out of it?
As I am reading this book, and examining my own broken spirituality and broken Christianity and the mess that my heart/mind is in, I was thinking about how I have changed, and how I had changed. The thing is, though I may not feel "lead" by God, or driven by the spirit, or whatever jumped-up mumbo-jumbo voodoo that you want to claim is how it works... the thing is, despite my distance from that, I still think I do a halfway decent job of not being selfish all the time. I bend over backwards for people. Too many friends have told me that, sometimes, I just have to do what's right for me.
I've had relationships destroyed because I was bent until I broke, and left broken, feeling used. I get stressed and frustrated at work because I help and help, and sometimes no one helps me. I won't yell at my roommates when they don't pay their share of the bills on time, and I end up in the hole in the bank, or running out of money and having to live off of a credit card.
I'm not pointing out I can be selfless for recognition purposes. What I am saying is, it strikes me as odd that though I may not being the perfect model of Christianity (which I never would be anyway) and while currently my spirituality is pretty dead (that, then, is the part I truly worry about), I still apply the lessons of selflessness - ultimately, of love - throughout my life.
Love may be the wood that I burn up for myself, but at least I don't let it get all stacked up, moldy, bug ridden and wasted. Or something like that.
More on this later...
9.08.2008
No trade-backs
I had an interesting conversation yesterday evening. The setting: helping my friend Scott play a gig at a sorority on the campus of Indiana University. Apparently, said sorority (whose name I don't remember) was friends with a fraternity (again, don't remember) and those boys were there helping out. Scott is also a member of that fraternity, and to give him his due credit, he was right, they were not all total douchebags. Only a few.
Still, I marvelled at the youth, the arrogance, the hubris, the total lack of self, some of these "men" epitomized. There were more polos and khaki shorts than you could shake a stick at. As for the girls... I was very proud of that particular club, because not all the girls were thin and blond and super attractive. Most of them were average or just a shade on the pretty side, and a few were a shade on the other side... or worse... not at all bad or ugly... just not what you would expect from a place like IU where the greek system is ruthless, heartless, and soulless.
Those were my impressions when I went to school there, from 1999 until 2003. I was glad to see both a frat and a sorority moving in a positive, more-normal-people-friendly direction.
As I was saying... I was there to play guitar and help back up Scott. One of his frat brothers introduced himself and we began talking. He seemed like an alright kid, maybe a little confused and maybe a little less than a rocket scientist, but generally a very nice kid. The thing that shocked me... he had SOOO many questions for me.
What's it like in Indianapolis?
Why aren't you working in your major?
Why do you live with other people?
What's it like working a real job?
Do you ever miss college?
Did you party much when you were down here?
Did you party much when you left?
Why are newspapers dying out?
There were many more questions, maybe not phrased exactly the same way, but just inquiry after inquiry. Many of the questions all seemed to point to one simple thing - responsibility after college, or life as a real adult (however you want to phrase it, that's what it came down to).
And you know what? I gave him answers. I tried to tell him that it'll be completely different than college. And I thought the whole time, "kid, you don't know how good you have it right now."
I hope I maybe imparted some wisdom to the young man. I hope maybe I prepared him for the future, the real future, not the one where they (high school teachers and counselors, parents, etc.) tell you that you can be anything you want to be when you grow up - but the one that really exists, where the only things anyone cares about is that your ass is in your chair 5 minutes before work begins, and your check is in the hands of the power company and mortgage company the day before it is due.
All in all you are just another brick in their wall.
So what is it that moves you, and keeps you from being ordinary? That's the task you have to focus your free time on, so you're not just another number.
Still, I marvelled at the youth, the arrogance, the hubris, the total lack of self, some of these "men" epitomized. There were more polos and khaki shorts than you could shake a stick at. As for the girls... I was very proud of that particular club, because not all the girls were thin and blond and super attractive. Most of them were average or just a shade on the pretty side, and a few were a shade on the other side... or worse... not at all bad or ugly... just not what you would expect from a place like IU where the greek system is ruthless, heartless, and soulless.
Those were my impressions when I went to school there, from 1999 until 2003. I was glad to see both a frat and a sorority moving in a positive, more-normal-people-friendly direction.
As I was saying... I was there to play guitar and help back up Scott. One of his frat brothers introduced himself and we began talking. He seemed like an alright kid, maybe a little confused and maybe a little less than a rocket scientist, but generally a very nice kid. The thing that shocked me... he had SOOO many questions for me.
What's it like in Indianapolis?
Why aren't you working in your major?
Why do you live with other people?
What's it like working a real job?
Do you ever miss college?
Did you party much when you were down here?
Did you party much when you left?
Why are newspapers dying out?
There were many more questions, maybe not phrased exactly the same way, but just inquiry after inquiry. Many of the questions all seemed to point to one simple thing - responsibility after college, or life as a real adult (however you want to phrase it, that's what it came down to).
And you know what? I gave him answers. I tried to tell him that it'll be completely different than college. And I thought the whole time, "kid, you don't know how good you have it right now."
I hope I maybe imparted some wisdom to the young man. I hope maybe I prepared him for the future, the real future, not the one where they (high school teachers and counselors, parents, etc.) tell you that you can be anything you want to be when you grow up - but the one that really exists, where the only things anyone cares about is that your ass is in your chair 5 minutes before work begins, and your check is in the hands of the power company and mortgage company the day before it is due.
All in all you are just another brick in their wall.
So what is it that moves you, and keeps you from being ordinary? That's the task you have to focus your free time on, so you're not just another number.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
