Roll it up, take a hit. Feelin it, 2am, summer night. Livin' my life, gittin' out dreams. People told me slow my roll, I'm screamin' out, "fuck that!" I'm gonna do just what I want, and there ain't no turnin' back. I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know everything that shines ain't always gonna be gold. Hey, I'll be fine once I get it, and I'll be good.
So tell me what you know about dreamin', dreamin'. You don't realy know about, nothin', nothin'. Tell me what you know about the night terrors every night, 5AM, cold sweat, wakin' up to the skies.
Tell me what you know about dreams - dreams. Tell me what you know about night terrors - nothin'. You don't really care about the trials of tomorrow, you'd rather lay awake in a bed full of sorrow.
Hands on the wheel? Uh-uh, fuck that.
---
It's funny because I always thought I was fine because I was a good kid. I wasn't one of the wild ones out there getting high/drunk/whatever on a regular basis. But taking stock of my life these past few months, I've seen something. My whole life has been terribly chaotic and unstable. Not in an external way, but an internal way. I read that all anger leads to violence; it's either external or internal. I'm definitely not externally violent, and thus I always thought I was not angry. But I finally have come face to face with the internal toll of anger. God help me, the denial of ym anger has worn me down to nearly nothing and left me with such a shell of a life. The selfishness, the withdrawing from people and life, the coldness, the depression, the lack of interest, the lack of self respect, the tension, the restlessness, the inability to concentrate for very long, the feeling of wanting to run away, the inability to stand up for myself and speak my mind, the excessive sarcasm -- on and on it goes. Way more than you could ever imagine saying "I don't care" and denying your emotions could do to you.
And so even though I'm not a high drunkard, I identify with that song somehow. The desperation and the heading for destruction, the anger in between the lines, and the negative behaviors to get something "good" out of life...
But I am not hopeless, far from it. Lately I have sensed God whispering, "dear, I'll catch you, but you have to jump first." I'm so scared to face all that is within me, all that I have spent years denying and ignoring. But beyond that, I'm tired. I'm tired of being held back by myself. I have absolutely no good reason to be missing out on living, though, God knows, I've attempted to justify it to myself with "good" reasons many times. I asked God a few nights ago, "will I ever get to where I want to be?" He answered immediately: "if you don't lose heart, in due season you shall reap." I keep holding on to that, holding on tight.
And I'm gonna jump. That sounds like a death wish, lol. But I'm not talking about THAT. I'm talking about LIFE. Jumping into the arms of the Author of LIFE.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
THINGS I LIKE
The song, On My Way Back Home by Band of Horses.
Figuring out how to read between the lines.
Having developed an excellent radar to detect when someone is bullshitting. Gotta get something positive out of the crap that happens in life, right?
The moment (that I'll always treasure) when my grandmother almost confessed that I was her favorite grandchild: "you were always my favorite -- no wait, I can't say that..." :D :D :D She is my second mother, after all.
Staying up late. Siiiiiigh. Ok, so I'm mixed about this one. I haven't been falling asleep until 4 - 6AM lately, which is beyond ridiculous, but I don't care too much atm.
The three of us together.
Knowing who I am, what I want, and where I'm going.
Finding a local band with surprisingly good style and artistic taste.
Occupying personal space, strong laughter and handshakes.
Owning the very first "HI!!"
That thrill when you look at nature at particular moving moments.
Not being so uptight anymore. I finally decided it was useless. And I've ended up being able to achieve more since I stopped caring so much and just accepted my strengthlessness(?). Well, actually I've still got a long way to go. But you know.
Saying "fuck" a lot. To myself. It makes me feel better somehow. I've been cussing a lot in general lately. And I don't care. And people who think saying crude words isn't Christian, I'd kind of like to tell them to fuck off. I'm NOT cursing... I'm cussing. There is a difference.
Hanging out with God. Cuz that's how I think of praying now.
Not going to church... *cough* I've kind of given up on the idea, much as I hate to admit it to myself. There's just no where around here I feel compelled to go. I miss it though. So I don't know.
Figuring out that my friend's ex was a total douche bag who screwed with all our heads and nothing he said is believable.
Making money doing what I love/having my own business at 23/freelance writing.
Deepening my walk with God like never before (yes, this can happen even if you do cuss... :P)
Learning what it means to be loved by Someone and my imperfections never a/effect that love, ever.
Mylanta.
Flarp. ^_^ It's sitting on my desk. Right now. It was purchased on one of our late night Walmart runs.
Lists.
Ending this and sleeping.....
The song, On My Way Back Home by Band of Horses.
Figuring out how to read between the lines.
Having developed an excellent radar to detect when someone is bullshitting. Gotta get something positive out of the crap that happens in life, right?
The moment (that I'll always treasure) when my grandmother almost confessed that I was her favorite grandchild: "you were always my favorite -- no wait, I can't say that..." :D :D :D She is my second mother, after all.
Staying up late. Siiiiiigh. Ok, so I'm mixed about this one. I haven't been falling asleep until 4 - 6AM lately, which is beyond ridiculous, but I don't care too much atm.
The three of us together.
Knowing who I am, what I want, and where I'm going.
Finding a local band with surprisingly good style and artistic taste.
Occupying personal space, strong laughter and handshakes.
Owning the very first "HI!!"
That thrill when you look at nature at particular moving moments.
Not being so uptight anymore. I finally decided it was useless. And I've ended up being able to achieve more since I stopped caring so much and just accepted my strengthlessness(?). Well, actually I've still got a long way to go. But you know.
Saying "fuck" a lot. To myself. It makes me feel better somehow. I've been cussing a lot in general lately. And I don't care. And people who think saying crude words isn't Christian, I'd kind of like to tell them to fuck off. I'm NOT cursing... I'm cussing. There is a difference.
Hanging out with God. Cuz that's how I think of praying now.
Not going to church... *cough* I've kind of given up on the idea, much as I hate to admit it to myself. There's just no where around here I feel compelled to go. I miss it though. So I don't know.
Figuring out that my friend's ex was a total douche bag who screwed with all our heads and nothing he said is believable.
Making money doing what I love/having my own business at 23/freelance writing.
Deepening my walk with God like never before (yes, this can happen even if you do cuss... :P)
Learning what it means to be loved by Someone and my imperfections never a/effect that love, ever.
Mylanta.
Flarp. ^_^ It's sitting on my desk. Right now. It was purchased on one of our late night Walmart runs.
Lists.
Ending this and sleeping.....
Thursday, September 23, 2010
You know I miss ya in my life, and I kinda think that I realize that I was only lookin out for me instead of gettin you the help you need. Who do you think you are? Who do I think I am? Barely listening to my Oldest Friend. So I tell you once, but not again, that I only miss you in my life, and I hope you finally realize that I’m only looking out for you when I’m not afraid to see this through.
-Andrew Belle
-Andrew Belle
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
First favorite quote on the face of the planet:
"Sometimes, after a particularly scathing attack by a student on some individual whose doctrinal position is not orthodox or whose lifestyle seems less than Christian, I will say, 'Ladies and gentleman, you haven't lived long enough or sinned big enough to have an opinion on that subject.'"
Second favorite quote on the face of the planet:
"There is a lot to criticize about the Pharisees of Jesus' day. Jesus reserved his greatest anger for them. Do you know why? Because of their arrogance. He was angry because they didn't know how ignorant and sinful they were. They assumed that their knowledge was superior, that what they said came from Sinai, and that their purity was to be admired.
"But when the prostitutes, the tax collectors, and the children came to him they were welcomed with open arms. Why? Because they were teachable. They brought nothing but empty hands before him. They knew that he knew that, but, more importantly, they knew that he loved them anyway."
Third favorite quote on the face of the planet:
"Children recognize in their childlikeness that one of the great truths of the universe is that it is big enough for most of us to be wrong about most of the things almost all of the time. To be childlike is to be teachable."
Fourth favorite quote on the face of the planet:
"Only those adults who have retained, with whatever additions and enrichments, their first childish response to poetry unimpaired, can be said to have grown up at all."
First three, Steve Brown, last one C. S. Lewis.
Favorite quotes on the face of the planet are subject to change without warning.
"Sometimes, after a particularly scathing attack by a student on some individual whose doctrinal position is not orthodox or whose lifestyle seems less than Christian, I will say, 'Ladies and gentleman, you haven't lived long enough or sinned big enough to have an opinion on that subject.'"
Second favorite quote on the face of the planet:
"There is a lot to criticize about the Pharisees of Jesus' day. Jesus reserved his greatest anger for them. Do you know why? Because of their arrogance. He was angry because they didn't know how ignorant and sinful they were. They assumed that their knowledge was superior, that what they said came from Sinai, and that their purity was to be admired.
"But when the prostitutes, the tax collectors, and the children came to him they were welcomed with open arms. Why? Because they were teachable. They brought nothing but empty hands before him. They knew that he knew that, but, more importantly, they knew that he loved them anyway."
Third favorite quote on the face of the planet:
"Children recognize in their childlikeness that one of the great truths of the universe is that it is big enough for most of us to be wrong about most of the things almost all of the time. To be childlike is to be teachable."
Fourth favorite quote on the face of the planet:
"Only those adults who have retained, with whatever additions and enrichments, their first childish response to poetry unimpaired, can be said to have grown up at all."
First three, Steve Brown, last one C. S. Lewis.
Favorite quotes on the face of the planet are subject to change without warning.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."
God loves us best when we are at our worst, I think. Not that God's love actually alters or or is at times better than others. But I'm suddenly getting this vibe, if you will, that He loves to comfort us. And so His love is at it's finest when we are at our worst. I think. I mean, after all, He sent His son to die for us when we were absolutely at our worst. The whole, "rarely will a man die for a righteous man" thing, so woah-ho-ho, say what, you're dieing for a WRETCHED man? Yeah. I dunno, that one Rob Bell video where he's going through the storm in the woods with his baby son comes to mind.
Being made in the image of God, it occurs to me that we, also, can love another human the best when they are hurting. Also, in turn, we can experience the love of someone else in a profound way when we are hurting.
Vulnerability. It's a scary thing. At least, in our society of "keep it together, never let 'em see you sweat - let alone shed a tear or punch a wall" and such. But we've got these ideas in our heads that if we have problems, if we're not perfect, if we don't meet a particular standard that makes us "good enough," if we're hurting, if we have struggles or ugly secrets or brutal scars or flaming wounds ... that we're unworthy of being loved. When that is the total opposite. That is when we are the most lovable! But unfortunately that is when we tend to close ourselves off and fear rejection the most. We get stiff. The part in "Approaching God" by Steve Brown about "it's easier to hug a dirty kid than a stiff kid" applies here. It's never the dirtyness that makes us unlovable, it's the stiffness. The shutting down. The putting up walls. The facade of stoicism. We're afraid that the "real us" is repulsive. But I think that's a lie from the devil to keep us trapped in an existence that is less than whole, less than healthy, and less than our full potential. It keeps us from opening up and experiencing the reality of love, healing, and overcoming.
I might be going a bit utopian here, of course... It's not accurate to say that humans always love each other perfectly. We're not God, merely made in His image, and we're fallen at that. Many times people are repulsed by the real us and we are, in turn, repulsed by the real them. It's hard to not be mutually repulsed at each other's imperfections at times. It's hard to love someone else while you're struggling yourself. That seems rather a hopeless cycle, I know. But then, there's God. Get real before yourself and God. Stop being stiff before Him. Let Him see you dirty (psst: He has already seen you dirty anyway so it's pretty useless to pretend that He hasn't). Experience a Love so perfect, portent, and pure that it binds up wounds, turns deserts into pools of water, and makes ceder trees grow in formerly barren lands, and you will start to heal. In turn, the walls will come down and you will be better not only to experience human love, but to spread the love. You will better be able to love others at their worst and help them find healing. And so on and so forth.
The irony of being most lovable at our worst ties in with another irony: loosing something to find it. We have to loose our "keeping-it-togetherness" in order to truly get it together. To be confident and strong we have to first be helpless and weak. Our ideas of how to survive have to die before we can thrive in new-found life. The "peacefulness" of shoving down our emotions and never letting ourselves feel pain or anger or whatever has to die an uncomfortable death (in other words, we have to go through a brutal storm of feeling all those things bottles up inside) before we can find a true peace. The peace the grows from the LOVE that floods into our lives when we are at our worst. Because God loves us best when we are at our worst.
And rather than be like Lambchop and start a whole "this is a song that never ends" sort of thing, I will stop here.
God loves us best when we are at our worst, I think. Not that God's love actually alters or or is at times better than others. But I'm suddenly getting this vibe, if you will, that He loves to comfort us. And so His love is at it's finest when we are at our worst. I think. I mean, after all, He sent His son to die for us when we were absolutely at our worst. The whole, "rarely will a man die for a righteous man" thing, so woah-ho-ho, say what, you're dieing for a WRETCHED man? Yeah. I dunno, that one Rob Bell video where he's going through the storm in the woods with his baby son comes to mind.
Being made in the image of God, it occurs to me that we, also, can love another human the best when they are hurting. Also, in turn, we can experience the love of someone else in a profound way when we are hurting.
Vulnerability. It's a scary thing. At least, in our society of "keep it together, never let 'em see you sweat - let alone shed a tear or punch a wall" and such. But we've got these ideas in our heads that if we have problems, if we're not perfect, if we don't meet a particular standard that makes us "good enough," if we're hurting, if we have struggles or ugly secrets or brutal scars or flaming wounds ... that we're unworthy of being loved. When that is the total opposite. That is when we are the most lovable! But unfortunately that is when we tend to close ourselves off and fear rejection the most. We get stiff. The part in "Approaching God" by Steve Brown about "it's easier to hug a dirty kid than a stiff kid" applies here. It's never the dirtyness that makes us unlovable, it's the stiffness. The shutting down. The putting up walls. The facade of stoicism. We're afraid that the "real us" is repulsive. But I think that's a lie from the devil to keep us trapped in an existence that is less than whole, less than healthy, and less than our full potential. It keeps us from opening up and experiencing the reality of love, healing, and overcoming.
I might be going a bit utopian here, of course... It's not accurate to say that humans always love each other perfectly. We're not God, merely made in His image, and we're fallen at that. Many times people are repulsed by the real us and we are, in turn, repulsed by the real them. It's hard to not be mutually repulsed at each other's imperfections at times. It's hard to love someone else while you're struggling yourself. That seems rather a hopeless cycle, I know. But then, there's God. Get real before yourself and God. Stop being stiff before Him. Let Him see you dirty (psst: He has already seen you dirty anyway so it's pretty useless to pretend that He hasn't). Experience a Love so perfect, portent, and pure that it binds up wounds, turns deserts into pools of water, and makes ceder trees grow in formerly barren lands, and you will start to heal. In turn, the walls will come down and you will be better not only to experience human love, but to spread the love. You will better be able to love others at their worst and help them find healing. And so on and so forth.
The irony of being most lovable at our worst ties in with another irony: loosing something to find it. We have to loose our "keeping-it-togetherness" in order to truly get it together. To be confident and strong we have to first be helpless and weak. Our ideas of how to survive have to die before we can thrive in new-found life. The "peacefulness" of shoving down our emotions and never letting ourselves feel pain or anger or whatever has to die an uncomfortable death (in other words, we have to go through a brutal storm of feeling all those things bottles up inside) before we can find a true peace. The peace the grows from the LOVE that floods into our lives when we are at our worst. Because God loves us best when we are at our worst.
And rather than be like Lambchop and start a whole "this is a song that never ends" sort of thing, I will stop here.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Just Gonna Stand There And Watch Me Burn...
So I'm sitting here listening to Eminem feeling pretty angry. Yeah, that's totally Eminem's influence on me. :P
Anger is so frightening, but, I'm learning, so essential. I have no patience with stoic people. Absolutely none. Dicks. But I'm so afraid to feel it sometimes. Sometimes, I turn into a dick myself. *sigh*
This last week I totally shoved everything I was feeling down inside of myself. I didn't know any other way to carry on. I watched myself show and feel absolutely no emotion when my beloved cat was on her supposed death bed. I just kept thinking about other things. I was wondering at the time why I wouldn't even think about it. But I just wouldn't. And I don't know. Everything else that's bothering me I just shoved down too and told myself I was over it and fine. I burring myself in my work. And then the next thing I know I'm going out of my fucking mind because I was so anxious. I couldn't concentrait on anything, I couldn't think, couldn't sit still, couldn't move, couldn't breathe. And I decided something. Sadness and anger are better than the alternative of repression that just turns into self abuse.
I've always considered myself a person who didn't get angry. Now I see I DO get angry, I just didn't recognize it as such. All my anxiety, depression, heartburn, irritability, and whatever the crap else comes from the fact that I don't let myself be angry. We live in a society that pretty much portrays anger as people beating each other's brains out, shooting each other, young inner city kids in gangs setting fire to buildings, etc. etc. And we think we can't be angry or we'll turn into them. But God has been teaching me something: you can't forgive without first being angry. And it's never anger that's a sin, it's only what you do with it that can turn into sin. Me punching someone in the face because I'm angry? Sin. Me whipping my bed with my exercise band and making my bird think I'm insane when I'm angry? That's ok. So there you go.
Two things that are interesting indeed. 1, my friend Ellen said, "maybe we can't truly love the sinner until we truly hate the sin." 2. my mother keeps telling me that Jesus said to live abundantly, which means feeling all emotions abundantly, even anger. People always want to talk about the Love part of Christianity. Love is essential but there's more to life and the Bible than just love. Anyone who seriously reads the Bible should be able to see that.
Part of life is picking up, moving on, letting go, getting over it. But you cannot, have not, done that if you don't first go through a really tough time. There's no rebirth without death. You can't censor your emotions. You can't pretend that just because you know something is for the best that it doesn't still matter in some ways. You have not moved on from something if you only take a week to eat ice cream and watch One Tree Hill or whatever. You're still carrying all that stuff around with you if you never really let yourself be sad and just deal with it. End of story. And so I'm being sad and dealing. Although, still eating ice cream -- abundantly.
I'm rambling.
Anger is so frightening, but, I'm learning, so essential. I have no patience with stoic people. Absolutely none. Dicks. But I'm so afraid to feel it sometimes. Sometimes, I turn into a dick myself. *sigh*
This last week I totally shoved everything I was feeling down inside of myself. I didn't know any other way to carry on. I watched myself show and feel absolutely no emotion when my beloved cat was on her supposed death bed. I just kept thinking about other things. I was wondering at the time why I wouldn't even think about it. But I just wouldn't. And I don't know. Everything else that's bothering me I just shoved down too and told myself I was over it and fine. I burring myself in my work. And then the next thing I know I'm going out of my fucking mind because I was so anxious. I couldn't concentrait on anything, I couldn't think, couldn't sit still, couldn't move, couldn't breathe. And I decided something. Sadness and anger are better than the alternative of repression that just turns into self abuse.
I've always considered myself a person who didn't get angry. Now I see I DO get angry, I just didn't recognize it as such. All my anxiety, depression, heartburn, irritability, and whatever the crap else comes from the fact that I don't let myself be angry. We live in a society that pretty much portrays anger as people beating each other's brains out, shooting each other, young inner city kids in gangs setting fire to buildings, etc. etc. And we think we can't be angry or we'll turn into them. But God has been teaching me something: you can't forgive without first being angry. And it's never anger that's a sin, it's only what you do with it that can turn into sin. Me punching someone in the face because I'm angry? Sin. Me whipping my bed with my exercise band and making my bird think I'm insane when I'm angry? That's ok. So there you go.
Two things that are interesting indeed. 1, my friend Ellen said, "maybe we can't truly love the sinner until we truly hate the sin." 2. my mother keeps telling me that Jesus said to live abundantly, which means feeling all emotions abundantly, even anger. People always want to talk about the Love part of Christianity. Love is essential but there's more to life and the Bible than just love. Anyone who seriously reads the Bible should be able to see that.
Part of life is picking up, moving on, letting go, getting over it. But you cannot, have not, done that if you don't first go through a really tough time. There's no rebirth without death. You can't censor your emotions. You can't pretend that just because you know something is for the best that it doesn't still matter in some ways. You have not moved on from something if you only take a week to eat ice cream and watch One Tree Hill or whatever. You're still carrying all that stuff around with you if you never really let yourself be sad and just deal with it. End of story. And so I'm being sad and dealing. Although, still eating ice cream -- abundantly.
I'm rambling.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
White. Lies. Baby.
To find you awake by your windowsill. I broke down in horror at you standing there. The glow from the moon shone through cracks in your hair. I shouted with passion, "I love you so much" but feeling my skin, it was cold to the touch. You whispered "where are you?" I questioned your doubt but soon realised, you were talking to God now.
You've got
blood
on
your
hands.
I know it's mine.
I just need more time.
A requiem played as you begged for forgiveness. "Don't touch me!" I screamed. I've got unfinished business.
He catches raindrops from his window, it reminds him how we fall. Raindrops from his window, making puddles in his hands. He sees how quick the water's rising as another raindrop lands.
You talked me to sleep that night. I hadn't felt that sad in years. Your eyes like glass mistakes, they moved me close to tears. You speak those favourite fables which I'm yet to live and casually confirm my fears that I've got nothing to give.
I wish I could say that I've got no regrets but saying that would be one more to pile on my desk. I wish I could say I've clung to time like gold...
And I lived on the right side, slept on the left. That's why everything was love or death.
Close my eyes as my hands shake and when I see a new day. Who's driving this anyway? I picture my own grave 'cause fear's got a hold on me. Yes, this fear's got a hold on me. Yes, this fear's got a hold on me.
You are a dozen to the project, with a galaxy of questions and all we heard was lies about the truth. No choice but be obedient, like prisoners of war, caught on the wrong side of morality and youth.
You've got
blood
on
your
hands.
I know it's mine.
I just need more time.
A requiem played as you begged for forgiveness. "Don't touch me!" I screamed. I've got unfinished business.
He catches raindrops from his window, it reminds him how we fall. Raindrops from his window, making puddles in his hands. He sees how quick the water's rising as another raindrop lands.
You talked me to sleep that night. I hadn't felt that sad in years. Your eyes like glass mistakes, they moved me close to tears. You speak those favourite fables which I'm yet to live and casually confirm my fears that I've got nothing to give.
I wish I could say that I've got no regrets but saying that would be one more to pile on my desk. I wish I could say I've clung to time like gold...
And I lived on the right side, slept on the left. That's why everything was love or death.
Close my eyes as my hands shake and when I see a new day. Who's driving this anyway? I picture my own grave 'cause fear's got a hold on me. Yes, this fear's got a hold on me. Yes, this fear's got a hold on me.
You are a dozen to the project, with a galaxy of questions and all we heard was lies about the truth. No choice but be obedient, like prisoners of war, caught on the wrong side of morality and youth.
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